CHAPTER VII. THE INQUEST
“Ready, now, Shag! Ready!” called Colonel Ashley, in tense tones. “Ready with the net!”
“Yes, sah! All ready!”
“I've got him about ready for you! And he's better than I thought!”
“Yes, sah, Colonel! I won't miss!”
“If you do you may look for another place!” At this dire threat Shag turned as white as he would ever become, and took a firmer grip on the “Ready now, Shag!” called the colonel, at the same time directing his helper to come down the bank toward a little pool whither he was leading the now well-played fish. “Ready!”
Shag did not speak, but while the colonel slowly reeled in and the tip of the slender pole bent like a bow, he slipped the net into the water, under the fish, and, a moment later, had it out on the grass.
“There!” exclaimed the famous detective, with a sigh of relief. “There he is, and as fine a fish as I've ever landed in these parts! Now, Shag—”
But there came an interruption. Reasoning that now was a most propitious time to make his appeal, Harry Bartlett advanced to where the colonel and Shag were bending over the panting bass. As the detective, with a smart blow back of its head, put his catch out of misery, Bartlett spoke.