He pulled in excitedly and had almost brought his catch to shore when the line suddenly broke and Frank fell over on his back.
He gave a howl of vexation as his line without the hook came out the water.
"And that was a whopper, too," he complained. "I'll bet he was the daddy of them all."
"It's always the biggest fish that gets away," consoled George. "Never mind, Frank, better luck next time."
A new hook was fastened to the line and baited, and Frank grumblingly threw it in. Just as he did so, Bob gave a shout and pulled a big catfish out on the bank.
He rushed to take it from the hook but started back with a cry of pain.
"It stung me," he yelled, holding up his finger from which blood was flowing.
"Of course he did," replied Sammy. "They always get one of their horns into you if you're not careful. I'll bet that fellow's tickled to death at the way he put one over on you."
"Wash your finger well in the water," counseled George, "and then come over here and I'll put some peroxide on it that Mrs. Claxton gave me to bring along."
Bob did as directed, and then with exceeding care took the catfish from the hook.