Manuel'll give us the water." The "Portugee" was rocking fully a mile away, but when Dan up-ended an oar he waved his left arm three times.
"Thirty fathom," said Dan, stringing a salt clam on to the hook.

"Over with the dough-boys.

Bait same's I do, Harve, an' don't snarl your reel." Dan's line was out long before Harvey had mastered the mystery of baiting and heaving out the leads.

The dory drifted along easily.

It was not worth while to anchor till they were sure of good ground.
"Here we come!" Dan shouted, and a shower of spray rattled on Harvey's shoulders as a big cod flapped and kicked alongside.