FROLICS OF THE SILVER KINGS 



glorified wavelets of the moonbeam's path- 

 way. 



The Angler had perched himself upon the 

 part of the deck that projected into the cock- 

 pit and given the line two extra twists about 

 his hand. The leap he made landed him 

 squarely on the astonished skipper's head. 



The metal fish had split in twain, twisted 

 into distorted curlings. For many days a 

 swollen and bruised hand required the An- 

 gler's attention. 



He felt intimately acquainted with this 

 paterfamilias,, although unable to even catch 

 sight of him. 



