to which it was attached by a rope. Brown knelt on the string-piece
and peered down at it. It floated deep in the water, the tide rippling
strongly through it, between the laths. The cover was fastened with a
wooden button.

The substitute assistant, after a deal of futile and exasperating poking
with the handle of the net, managed to turn the button and throw back
the leather-hinged cover. Through the square opening the water beneath
looked darkly green. There was much seaweed in the car, and occasionally
this weed was stirred by living things which moved sluggishly.

John Brown reversed the net, and, lying flat on the wharf, gingerly
thrust the business end of the contrivance through the opening and into
the dark, weed-streaked water. Then he began feeling for his prey.

He could feel it. Apparently the car was alive with lobsters. As he
moved the net through the water there was always one just before it or
behind it; but at least ten minutes elapsed before he managed to get
one in it. At length, when his arms were weary and his patience almost
exhausted, the submerged net became heavy, and the handle shook in his
grasp. He shortened his hold and began to pull in hand over hand. He had
a lobster, a big lobster.

He could see a pair of claws opening and shutting wickedly. He raised
the creature through the opening, balanced the net on its edge, rose on
one knee, tried to stand erect, stumbled, lost his hold on the handle
and shot the lobster neatly out of the meshes, over the edge of the car,
and into the free waters of the channel. Then he expressed his feelings
aloud and with emphasis.