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"Let your pigeon fly!" cried Pete, and the lead swung far ahead

and fell with a sullen plop into the dark blue water. The line

ran out until it suddenly slackened just under the leadsman. He

fingered a mark.

"Forty fathoms!" he called.

Five minutes later another sounding was taken and proved that the

water was gradually shoaling. At thirty fathoms Pete ordered the

anchor let go and a last sounding taken.

Before the lead flew he rubbed a little tallow into the saucer,

and this, when it came up, was full of sand, mud, and shells,

telling the sort of bottom under the schooner.

Pete called Code, and together they read it like a

book--favorable fishing ground, though not the best.