Bob made no reply but gave a sudden sharp jerk to the pole. This time there was a decided resistance at the other end of the line and he hurriedly began to reel in. But before he had recovered more than a few yards the big fish, evidently making up its mind that it had come far enough, made a sudden rush for the lily pads and the reel hummed as the line cut through the water.
"He's a big one, all right," Jack shouted.
Bob was pressing on the drag as hard as he dared, hoping to stop the fish before it reached the pads, knowing that once among them it was as good as lost. He succeeded just as he was about to give up hope and began reeling in once more.
"Stand by with the net," he panted.
Jack obeyed but the fish had not yet given up the fight and, although the greater part of the line had been regained, the rush which followed took it nearly all out again. Four times this was repeated before the fish, tired out with the struggle, lay gasping on the bottom of the boat.
"He's a beauty," Jack declared. "Six pounds if he's an ounce and that's larger than any we've caught in this lake."
A low but distinct rumble turned their attention from the pickerel and Jack sprang for the bow and began hurriedly to pull in the anchor.
"We've got to get a hustle on if we're going to beat it in," he declared as he grasped the wheel while Bob turned a small switch. Instantly the boat began to move, although there was no sound of an engine. A small but powerful electric motor, run by a secret type of storage cell, took the place of the usual gasoline engine. Rapidly the craft gained speed until, in less than three minutes, she was cutting through the water at a rate of nearly fifteen miles an hour.
"Better put up the top," Jack shouted a few minutes later as the first drops of rain warned him that they had started too late.
It took Bob but a moment to pull the canvas top over the boat but it was raining hard as he resumed his seat and moved the switch over another notch. A sharp flash of lightning followed by a deafening peal of thunder seemed a prelude to the sudden rush of wind which swept over the lake kicking the water into white caps all about them.