“Fu-fu-fu-feels like a wh-wh-whale!” answered Tom.
“Now don’t get excited,” advised Dan. “Give him his head for a while. Maybe it’s a sunfish.”
But Tom was really having all he could attend to, for whatever was on the end of his line was making the gamest sort of a fight. Tom had to let out several yards of line, for he was none too sure of his leader. Then he began to take it in again a little at a time until the fish, which seemed to have given up the struggle, was not six feet away. They all peered wonderingly into the water, but it was too rough to allow the fish to be seen.
“I’m going to pull him in,” said Tom in a hoarse whisper. “You fellows su-su-stand by to gu-gu-grab him!” Then he pulled in hand over hand, there was a thrashing a yard away and a momentary glimpse of a big silvery body that turned and twisted. Then Tom sat down suddenly in the canoe, sending it down to the gunwale and shipping several quarts of water, while the end of the line, minus leader and hook, flew over his head.
“Gosh!” exclaimed Tom, picking himself up and looking disgustedly into the water.
“Say, he was a peach!” said Dan. “What do you suppose he was?”
“Trout,” said Bob.
“Salmon,” said Nelson.
“He was the biggest I ever saw in fresh water, anyway,” Dan declared. Tom was feverishly fitting a new leader and baiting his hook.