“Oh, you’ve got a bite! Pull up! Pull up!” shouted Ted. “I’ll help you!”
He sprang to his feet, letting go his own pole, and started to run to where Janet sat.
“I can pull up my own fish!” she told him.
She gave her pole a hard yank, and something long and twisting was pulled from the water of the inlet. Over Janet’s head it sailed, flapping on the grass behind her.
“Oh, you’ve caught an eel! You’ve caught a big eel!” yelled Teddy.
“I don’t want an eel! I don’t like ’em! Take him off!” and Janet covered her eyes with her hands, for she really felt a little afraid of eels—they were so much like snakes, she said.
“He’s a good, big eel, and lots of folks like ’em to eat!” declared Ted, as he scrambled up the bank toward the place where Janet’s eel had fallen when she whipped it up in the air over her head.
But that particular eel was not destined to be fried. As Teddy reached the creature and made a dive to get hold of it, the eel squirmed off the hook.
“Look out! He’s going to get away!” shouted Teddy.
And the eel did get away. Over the grass it squirmed and wiggled until, reaching the edge of the bank, it flopped over, splashed down into the water and swam away. It had only been lightly hooked, and Janet had thrown it loose from the sharp point. So there was one happy eel, at any rate.