No bites.

We kept patiently fishing for fifteen minutes.

It began to look as if old Trull was right.
Presently Kit jerked hastily.
"Got one ?" we all demanded.
"Got something; heavy too." "Haul him up!" cried the skipper.
Kit hauled.

It made the block creak and the out-rigger bend.

Yard after yard of the wet line was pulled in; and by and by the head of a tremendous fellow parted the water, and came up, one, two, three feet, writhing and bobbing about.
"Twenty pounds, if an ounce!" shouted young Donovan.
"Heave away!" cried the captain.