"Oh, he swallows the hook," answered the big man, testily. "His stomach must be half full of old iron by this time."
This was an interesting situation. Toots turned it over in his mind slowly. Presently his attention was diverted by an exclamation from John.
"Durn his skin!" the big man was saying. "Blest if I don't believe I've got him again!"
John's line was being dragged frantically about in the pool. The pole bent and splashed in the water. The big man's hat came off. Reginald and the Princess interrupted their flirtation to join Toots beside the pool.
"Out of the way, you folks!" shouted John. "Give me room. I'm going to land the old sinner this time, or know the reason why."
All at once the crooked pole snapped in two, and John fell backward with his heels in the air. The next instant he had dashed into the pool up to his shoulders, and seized the small end of the pole, to which the line was attached.
"Reel him in, why don't you?" sang out Reginald, laughing.
"Reel nothing," said John, wrathfully, from the middle of the pool. "The only way to get this fish out is to jump on his back and ride him out."
John concluded to compromise by leading him out. He had wound several yards of the line about his arm, and was wading toward the shore. The fish was suspiciously quiet. The big man stepped out of the water and drew in the line, hand over hand. Toots could see the dim outlines of the fish as he allowed himself to be drawn toward the water's edge. Suddenly he clapped his hands and cried out gleefully: