trousers. "You hold him down," he commanded, "while I get this string through his gills. Don't let him flop."
While Joan was trying, rather gingerly, to find the best way of seizing the fish, Jim Pemberley appeared at the lighthouse door.
"Fishermen, ahoy!" he called. "Swim, oh! Swimmo! Is there a bathing-suit in that trunk of yours, Miss Kirkland?"
"Fogger, come here, quick!" shouted Garth. "Joan's caught a perfickly monstorious big blackfish!”
Jim strolled down to the pier.
"Bravo!" he cried. "That's the biggest this season. And since when, Bo'sun, have you called grown-up young ladies by their first names?"
"I asked if I might," said Garth; "that is, I told her I was going to. She doesn't mind, do you, Joan?"
Joan shook her head feebly.
"Right-o," said Jim. "Now then, let's see who can be ready in five minutes. Up with you, Pem." He swung Garth to his shoulder, scooped up the blackfish and the crutches in the other hand with perfect ease, and stood back to let Joan off the landing.
