Thicker and thicker blew the fog. Finally it blotted out the _Barracouta_; but Percy's last view of her told that she was heading his way. What if she could not find him! The thought gave him an unpleasant chill. He rowed harder. A splash astern attracted his attention. A violent shock set the dory quivering. He started up just in time to see a large fish dart away, leaving the blood streaming from a gory wound in the head of the swordfish. A shark! Percy knew he was in for a fight. He seized the lance and sprang into the stern. A black fin shot alongside. The marauder rolled up for his turn at the banquet. Just as his jaws opened Percy drove the keen steel into his throat. Mad with fright and pain, the robber flashed off, thrashing the bloody water. Another fin appeared on Percy's left. Again he lunged, and found his mark. The tail of the wounded shark struck the dory a heavy blow. Down it rolled, almost pitching the boy overboard head foremost among the blood-crazed sea-tigers. For a moment he sickened at what might have happened; but he regained his balance and hung to the lance. His fighting blood was roused. He had risked too much already to have the swordfish torn to pieces under his very eyes. Knees braced tightly against the sides of the stern, hands locked round the stout butt of the lance, he foiled rush after rush of the black-finned, white-bellied pirates. Again and again he lunged and stabbed, until the water round the rocking boat was dyed crimson. [Illustration: KNEES BRACED TIGHTLY AGAINST THE SIDES OF THE STERN, HANDS LOCKED ROUND THE STOUT BUTT OF THE LANCE, HE FOILED RUSH AFTER RUSH OF THE BLACK-FINNED, WHITE-BELLIED PIRATES] There seemed to be no end to the sharks. Fins crisscrossed the water all about and cut in toward the swordfish in quick, savage rushes. Percy was becoming exhausted; his arms ached; his breath came short. He could not keep up the fight much longer. Where was the _Barracouta_? He shouted at the top of his lungs. Unexpectedly, out of the fog to starboard Jim's voice answered him. "Sharks!" yelled Percy. "This way! Quick!" "Fight 'em off! We're coming!" In less than two minutes the sloop was alongside, and oars and harpoon helped beat off the assailants while the prize was being hoisted aboard. Though badly gouged and bitten about the head, the swordfish was but little impaired in value, for its body had hardly been touched. Another of about the same size lay in the standing-room. It had been a good morning's work. Percy told his story as the _Barracouta_ nosed home through the fog. When he had finished, Jim dropped his hand on his shoulder. "Perce," said he, "you certainly put up a great fight and saved your fish. Nobody could have done any better." Those few words, Percy felt, amply repaid him for what he had gone through that morning. He had won his spurs and was at last a full-fledged member of Spurling & Company. XV MIDSUMMER DAYS