“I think so.And there are many tricks.”
“I go now for the sardines,”the boy said.
“It is strange,”the old man said.“He never went turtle-ing.That is what kills the eyes.”
“Perico gave it to me at the bodega,”he explained.
“Let us take the stuff home,”the boy said.“ So I can get the cast net and go after the sardines.”
“He is almost blind.”
The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him.
“It was papa made me leave.I am a boy and I must obey him.”
“How old was I when you first took me in a boat?”
“That's easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.”
“Let me get four fresh ones.”
“I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.
The old man looked at him with his sunburned, confident loving eyes.
They picked up the gear from the boat.The old man carried the mast on his shoulder and the boy carried the wooden box with the coiled,hard-braided brown lines,the gaff and the harpoon with its shaft.The box with the baits was under the stern of the skiff along with the club that was used to subdue the big fish when they were brought alongside.No one would steal from the old man but it was better to take the sail and the heavy lines home as the dew was bad for them and,though he was quite sure no local people would steal from him,the old man thought that a gaff and a harpoon were needless temptations to leave in a boat.