And about there Walter looked up and frowned vaguely, and I arose and hesitated as to how to kill quickest. Walter’s eyes strayed back to the brown pool with the white bubbles doing waltzes and two-steps across it; and with that, as I stood reflecting, I was aware that Mr. Spafford was trying to come alone. All of two hundred yards—the dare-devil. I knew it by a crash as of a bull moose, and a howl following. He’d gone into a hole the first thing. “Oh, my! Oh, my!” I heard him moan, and then more crashing, and the guides splashed suppressed laughter all over me, but Walter didn’t hear. His soul was at the end of the thread that dipped out of knowledge at a point of the dark water.
And in a second we were all intent on that same point, for the trout opened up hostilities once more. Without warning he gave an enormous pull and rose to the top and shook himself, and broke water, and beat with his tail, and tossed, and jerked, and rolled, and raised the most dangerous Cain ever, and Walter’s wrist followed the ins and outs of it faster than any mind could possibly think. If your subliminal consciousness doesn’t understand fishing you might as well give up when a trout gets to that act, for no up-stairs thinking-machine ever could follow. However, Walter’s sub-qualities saw him through, and the whale went down again, visibly tired from the struggle.
And out of the woods burst our guest. So sad and bad and mad he was that I crouched before him. “Judge Morgan,” he fired at Walter, who paid no more attention than if a puppy was barking; “Judge Morgan, I’ll say nothing about the condition of my clothes.” So I took notice, and there was a six-inch square tear in the right knee of them clothes, and the piece flopped.
“Too bad,” I murmured, and he glanced at me sarcastically as who should say he knew well enough I’d put that stick to catch him, so I needn’t be hypocritical. He further addressed the court:
“Judge Morgan, I’ll suppose that my discomfort has not been caused intentionally—I’ll suppose that.”
Walter lifted the tip of the rod the least gingerly bit, and promptly lowered it; he was there.
“Judge Morgan, I’ll not further mention myself, but for Heaven’s sake, for reason’s sake, for Mr. Engelhardt’s sake, stop catching that fish and come and catch the train. I adjure you, do not throw away the prize of your career, the governorship,” and that was shrieked in large capitals. His voice trembled with emotion. He thrust his hand into his trousers-pocket, and halted a mere second; then he pulled out of that pocket as he went on—I couldn’t believe my eyes—he pulled out of that trousers-pocket a small, slimy, dead trout, and cast it from him, and pulled out another, and up to six, and discarded them on the rocks contemptuously. And I gasped, and the guides lay down and rolled, choking, but his voice went on in great exhortation: “The governorship! For a fish! Come, Judge Morgan. Be sane. There’s time, but not more than time. We must start this instant—we must hurry—but we can make the train. Judge Morgan, I entreat you—come!”
And that “come” was a howl that penetrated even Walter. When he’s annoyed he’s likely to take his glasses off. He did that now, pulling them away hurriedly with one hand, and staring up at the exhorter near-sightedly, like a troubled bat. “What’s all this?” he growled, and threw me an appealing, irritated glance. “I’m not going anywhere till I kill this fish—you ought to know that, Bob!” and then he put his glasses on and threw one surprised glance at the little dead fishes on the rocks, and settled back to his rod, and I think plain forgot Spafford and me and everything else.
I realized that the universe, barring the trout, had been put up to me, so I took the wheel. “Mr. Spafford, I’m sorry; but it’s no use. Derricks couldn’t stir him. If you want to go on, you can take two guides and make the train all right. I’m awfully sorry, but my brother wouldn’t drop his rod, as things stand, to be made czar; we might as well give up.”
“But it’s insanity! It’s—it’s criminal! It’s—”