Grant had just succeeded in disentangling his hook for at least the tenth time when he heard his name called.
“Come over here, Grant!” shouted Fred excitedly. “I need help.”
Grant immediately dropped his rod and started towards the spot where Fred was standing.
“What’s the matter?” he demanded, when he was only a few yards distant from his companion.
“Matter?” exclaimed Fred. “Look at that rod.”
It was bent almost double, and the line whipped back and forth across the pool as if it was possessed.
“Zowie!” cried Grant eagerly. “You’ve hooked a good one this time.”
“I should say I had.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Take that landing net and stand ready to scoop him up in case I can bring him close enough to shore, and don’t lose him beforehand.”