148 ALBACORA 



"Oh!" Luis cried. "There he goes again. I had him 

 so close." The sweat was running down Luis' face and 

 he turned his head to exclaim, "He must be foul-hooked. 

 No j&sh could be that tough." 



"Foul-hooked, my eye," Walt said. "You must be 

 weak. That fish is damn near dead." 



I shook my fist at Walter. "You'd poison your own 

 grandmother," I pointed out, but quietly. 



"What's that?" Luis asked, turning around. 



"I just said you've hooked a rugged baby that would 

 give anybody fits," I said. 



"I'll get the bastard if I have to shoot him." 



The gag was going far enough for me. If we stayed 

 there to encourage Walt he would keep needling Luis 

 all night. I was hungry. No one had mentioned dinner, 

 but amid all the jokes there was no fooling my appe- 

 tite. If we waited until we reached Pisagua before eat- 

 ing, the boys might never notice, but I would. 



"Good luck with the fish," I tossed over my shoulder 

 at Rivas, as I made for the galley. 



I could still hear the shouts. "I got him now. Here's 

 the double line again," Rivas was calling. 



As I wrestled with the pots and pans, I heard Lou 

 say, "Now watch him this time, old man." 



"Don't put too much strain on your line now," How- 

 ard said. 



Luis blurted between gasps, "Don't worry, I'm watch- 

 ing. He won't pull that on me again." 



