"Well, I'm sorry for him, and we'll try and kill him first; but his fate is to be cooked in his own shell, and delicious he'll be." "I should like to take him home," said Mike, as he wound up his line.
"So should I; but if either of us did we should be bothered with questions as to where we got it, and we couldn't say.

We shall have to cook it and eat it ourselves, Ladle.

Come on; we don't want any more fish to-day." They stepped back over the rocks, and while Mike hung up the lines Vince thrust his prize into the big creel they had close to the place they used for their fire, and then hurried towards the inner cave to fetch the tinder-box and a portion of the wood they had stored up there for firing, as well as the extra provisions they had brought with them that day.
"It strikes me, Mikey, that we're going to have a regular feast," said Vince.

"Lucky I caught that fellow!--if I hadn't we should have come short off." "Hark at him bragging! I say, why didn't you catch a lobster instead ?" _Phew_! came a soft whistle from the opening into the passage--a whistle softened by its journey through the subterranean place; but sounding pretty loudly in their ears, and as if it had been given by some one half-way through.
"Lobster!" ejaculated Vince excitedly.

"Why, there he is coming down." "Oh, Vince!" cried Mike, "that spoils all.