Menendez had his tied to a button-hole of his coat, but he thought he had better make our lines very safe, as they belonged to him.

There was a big hook and a heavy lead to the other end of the line, with a piece of fish for bait, and we swung the lead around our heads, and threw it out into the surf as far as we could.

I thought I was pretty good on the throw, but I couldn't begin to send my line out as far as Menendez threw his.

As for Rectus, he didn't pretend to do much in the throwing business.

He whirled his line around in such a curious way that I was very much afraid he would hook himself in the ear.