"I—-I can't," gasped Giant. "The line is twisted around my wrist!"
"Row for him, Shep!" called Snap.
He had scarcely spoken when the fish took another tack, dragging poor Giant toward the shore, some distance above the camp. Snap and Whopper hurried in the direction, and as the little youth managed to get a footing near the beach they ran in up to their ankles and dragged him to safety. Then all three began to haul in on the fishing line.
"I see what it is!" cried Snap. "A maskalonge—-and a whopper, too!"
Snap was right, and it was no mean task to bring the fish to the shore, and even then it flopped around in a manner that scared them a little. The maskalonge was dark gray in color with small black spots, and measured all of four feet and a half from head to tail.
"My, but he is a whopper!" cried Shep, as he ran the boat ashore and surveyed the haul. "No wonder he yanked Giant overboard."
"Giant, you can be proud of such a haul," said Snap. "I guess he's the king-pin of all the pike in this lake."
"Well, I am proud," answered Giant, with a grin. "Just the same,
I don't relish being pulled overboard for any fish in the lake.
He must weigh something, eh?"
"Fifteen to twenty pounds, I guess," said Snap. "It's too bad we haven't a scales along."
"Weigh him in his own scales," said Whopper, by way of some fun.