“Reel in,” commanded Dan.
“I am reeling, but——” Walter stopped abruptly as a savage pull upon his line interrupted his declaration.
The contest continued several minutes, neither of the boys speaking. Walter’s excitement was intense, and he stood up in the skiff to enable him to look for the struggling pickerel.
“Sit down!” ordered Dan a trifle sharply.
“I can see better when I’m standing,” replied Walter. “There it is!” he shouted as his victim came within sight. “It’s a beauty! It’ll weigh more than six pounds! It’s the biggest pickerel I——”
“Look out! Don’t let him touch the boat!” broke in Dan, as the huge pickerel made a sudden rush beneath the skiff. “There! You’ve lost it!” he added grimly, as the fish tore itself free from the hook and with a swift turn darted beyond the vision of the excited Walter.
“That’s strange,” muttered Walter, as in deep chagrin he resumed his seat. “I don’t see how it got away. You couldn’t have hooked it very well in the first place, Dan.”
The young oarsman smiled a trifle derisively as he said: “A good fisherman doesn’t have to have a fish strapped and tied to land it. I told you not to stand up.”
“What difference does standing make?”
“You have to balance yourself as well as handle the rod. Only an expert can do that. Let me have your line. Your bait is gone.”