“Okay by me,” said Quint. “Let’s get this circus on the road.”

Hooper stood and walked to the cage. “I’ll get in the boat,” he said hoarsely. “If you two can push it over to the edge of the dock and lean it toward me, then one of you come down into the boat with me, we can carry it over into the corner.”

Brody and Quint slid the cage across the wooden boards, and Brody was surprised at how light it was. Even with the diving gear inside, it couldn’t have weighed more than two hundred pounds. They tipped it toward Hooper, who grabbed two of the bars and waited until Quint joined him in the cockpit. The two men easily carried the cage a few feet and pushed it into a corner under the overhang that supported the flying bridge. Hooper secured it with two pieces of rope.

Brody jumped aboard and said, “Let’s go.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” said Quint.

“What?”

“Four hundred dollars.”

Brody took an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Quint. “You’re going to die a rich man, Quint.”

“That’s my aim. Uncleat the stern line, will you?” Quint uncleated the bow and midships spring lines and tossed them onto the dock, and when he saw that the stern line was clear, too, he pushed the throttle forward and guided the boat out of the slip. He turned right and pushed the throttle forward, and the boat moved swiftly through the calm sea—past Hicks Island and Goff Point, around Shagwong and Montauk points. Soon the lighthouse on Montauk Point was behind them, and they were cruising south by southwest in the open ocean.

Gradually, as the boat fell into the rhythm of the long ocean swells, Brody’s fury dulled. Maybe Hooper was telling the truth. It was possible. A person wouldn’t make up a story that was so easy to check. Ellen had never cheated on him before, he was sure of that. She never even flirted with other men. But, he told himself, there’s always a first time. And once again the thought made his throat tighten. He felt jealous and injured, inadequate and outraged. He hopped down from the fighting chair and climbed up to the flying bridge.

Quint made room on the bench for Brody, and Brody sat down next to him. Quint chuckled. “You boys almost had a no-shit punch-up back there.”

“It was nothing.”

“Looked like something to me. What is it, you think he’s been poking your wife?”

Confronted with his own thoughts stated so brutally, Brody was shocked. “None of your damn business,” he said.

“Whatever you say. But if you ask me, he ain’t got it in him.”

“Nobody asked you.” Anxious to change the subject, Brody said, “Are we going back to the same place?”

“Same place. Won’t be too long now.”

“What are the chances the fish will still be there?”

“Who knows? But it’s the only thing we can do.”

“You said something on the phone the other day about being smarter than fish. Is that all there is to it? Is that the only secret of success?”