Every one reached for his fish pole and selected his bait carefully. There was an almost church-like silence, broken only by the plop of the sinkers hitting the water.
James had the first strike, a bass, and his shrill squeal of delight must have been heard half way across the lake. He tossed it across to Janie, who dropped it into the basket.
Bill caught the next bass and Janie got the third. Fishing was really good, and in no time the basket was half full of flopping, slippery bass.
Davey had been lying flat on his stomach across the front of the boat, concentrating on some mysterious bubbles rising beside one of the big flat rocks. All of a sudden he let out a yell, and every one turned to see him pulling for all his might.
“Help! Help! Something is pulling my line away! Help! It’s awfully strong.”
Billy was beside him in an instant and grabbed the line. James fell down beside them and held Davey’s feet to keep him from going overboard, and Janie added to the commotion by jumping up and down and screaming: “Don’t tip the boat! Don’t tip the boat!”
Billy and Davey pulled with all their strength, and then out of the water there appeared a great, thrashing rubber-backed turtle!
He was securely hooked at the side of his leathery jaw, and he glared at his captors out of his little beady eyes, and he lashed the water like a twenty pound carp.
“Pull him in! Pull him in,” screamed James.
“No, no,” screamed Janie. “He’ll bite us!”