“But, George, you know he didn’t come up to mine,” remarked Herb.
“Well, I rather guess not, Herb,” grinned the other. “I suppose you notice, fellows, that my comrade has been in swimming. Funny part of it is, he never even bothered taking his clothes off when the notion struck him.”
“Well, it came right sudden, for a fact,” laughed Herb. “That big muskalunge was tearing around like the dickens, when swoop! he took a turn under my boat, and in my haste to swing around, I upset.”
“Wow!” cried Nick, “Oh, why wasn’t I there to see the fun? I’m always missing all the good things, seems to me.”
“But you hung on to your rod, apparently,” remarked Jack; “seeing that you got your game in the end.”
“That’s just what he did,” declared George with sincere admiration. “You know our friend Herb has a touch of stubbornness in his make-up. No measly old musky that ever swam in the St. Lawrence was going to get the better of him in an argument. He hung to that rod even while he went under. It was the greatest thing I ever saw, for a fact; but he managed it fine, let me tell you.”
“Tell us how?” begged Nick, breathlessly.
“All right,” answered George. “You see, the little dinky had turned turtle when it dropped Herb out; so there it was, floating beside him, bottom-side up. Would you believe it, that fellow just climbed up over the stern, and straddled the boat as he kept on playing that fish as cool as you please.”
“Great! Hurrah for our Herb! He’s the champion fisherman; only, because we haven’t got a photograph of that game fight to show, be careful how you tell the boys when we get home,” remarked Josh.
“While he played the fish I picked up his paddle,” George went on. “And when he got the musky in where I could gaff him, we pushed ashore, so he could turn his boat over again. Then, as each of us had a prize, we thought we might as well quit for the day. What you doing ashore, fellows?”