"Stand back, ladies and gentlemen, please!" cried the fisherman. "Stand well back! Them claws is dangerous, man! They'll rip your arm clear away from your body!"
The crowd of hotel guests was thrilled and delighted by this spectacle. A dozen cameras were out and clicking away. Many of the women were squealing with pleasure clutching on to the arms of their men, and the men were demonstrating their lack of fear and their masculinity by making foolish remarks in loud voices.
"Make yourself a nice pair of horn-rimmed spectacles out of that shell, hey Al?"
"Darn thing must weigh over a ton!"
"You mean to say it can actually float?"
"Sure it floats. Powerful swimmer, too. Pull a boat easy."
"He's a snapper, is he?"
"That's no snapper. Snapper turtles don't grow as big as that. But I'll tell you what. He'll snap your hand off quick enough if you get too close to him."
"Is that true?" one of the women asked the fisherman. "Would he snap off a person's hand?"
"He would right now," the fisherman said, smiling with brilliant white teeth. "He won't ever hurt you when he's in the ocean, but you catch him and pull him ashore and tip him up like this, then man alive, you'd better watch out! He'll snap at anything that comes in reach!"
"I guess I'd get a bit snappish myself," the woman said, "if I was in his situation."
One idiotic man had found a plank of driftwood on the sand, and he was carrying it towards the turtle. It was a fair-sized plank, about five feet long and maybe an inch thick. He started poking one end of it at the turtle's head.
"I wouldn't do that," the fisherman said. "You'll only make him madder than ever."
When the end of the plank touched the turtle's neck, the great head whipped round and the mouth opened wide and snap, it took the plank in its mouth and bit through it as if it were made of cheese.
"Wow!" they shouted. "Did you see that! I'm glad it wasn't my arm!"
"Leave him alone," the fisherman said. "It don't help to get him all stirred up."
A paunchy man with wide hips and very short legs came up to the fisherman and said, "Listen, feller. I want that shell. I'll buy it from you." And to his plump wife, he said, "You know what I'm going to do, Mildred? I'm going to take that shell home and have it polished up by an expert. Then I'm going to place it smack in the centre of our living-room! Won't that be something?"
"Fantastic," the plump wife said. "Go ahead and buy it, baby."
"Don't worry," he said. "It's mine already." And to the fisherman, he said, "How much for the shell?"
"I already sold him," the fisherman said. "I sold him shell and all."
"Not so fast, feller," the paunchy man said. "I'll bid you higher. Come on. What'd he offer you?"
"No can do," the fisherman said. "I already sold him."
"Who to?" the paunchy man said.
"To the manager."
"What manager?"
"The manager of the hotel."
"Did you hear that?" shouted another man. "He's sold it to the manager of our hotel! And you know what that means? It means turtle soup, that's what it means!"
"Right you are! And turtle steak! You ever have a turtle steak, Bill?"
"I never have, Jack. But I can't wait."
"A turtle steak's better than a beefsteak if you cook it light. It's more tender and it's got one heck of a flavour."