At fishing the boys were highly successful. Snap caught the first fish—-a good-sized perch—-and the doctor's son followed with a fine pickerel. Then came Whopper with another pickerel. For a while Giant caught nothing.
"What's the matter, Giant?" queried Snap. "You are usually our best angler."
"Oh, wait; I haven't begun yet," returned the small youth.
Scarcely had he spoken when he felt a tug and commenced to play a fish with vigor. That it was a large specimen of the finny tribe was evident by the way the rod bent and the line snapped and hummed.
"Look out, or you'll lose him!" cried Whopper excitedly.
"Let Giant alone—-he knows how to play any fish," said Snap.
"That's what!" added the doctor's son.
The others forgot their lines in watching Giant. Up came the line for fifty feet, and then out it would rush. But at last he commenced to reel in steadily, and then, with a swing, he lifted his catch bodily and allowed it to drop on the grass, where it flounced and flopped vigorously for a moment.
"A maskalonge!" cried the other boys simultaneously.
"And a big one!" added Whopper.