“Oh!” Florence exclaimed. “What a—”
“There!” Katie exclaimed again as the pole all but bent double. “Hang on tight. You—”
Was there ever such a thrilling, appalling moment? Once again the line went slack.
But not for long. Ten seconds and the pull came again. “Now!” Katie exclaimed, half rising in her place, “Now you got him.”
That she had something big on her line, Florence could not doubt. That it was alive she was not long in finding out. She had reeled in twenty feet of line when, of a sudden, the reel handle was jerked from her fingers. Her knuckles were barked until they bled as she tried in vain to recover that handle. Only the strength of her line saved the day, the line and Katie, for the stout young Finn began backing the boat away.
“I—I’ve still got him,” Florence panted as she took a fresh grip on her reel.
Once more she began reeling in. Ten, twenty, thirty feet, the fish came grudgingly. Then, with a suddenness that was startling, the pull on the line redoubled.
“He’s turned on you. Hold—hold on hard!” Katie screamed.
This time Florence’s fingers did not slip. With grim determination she held on. This was a truly big one. She must have him. Was he the catch of the season? What joy if only he were. To work as she had worked, then to play for only a day, to bring in the prize fish!
“Ah!” she breathed as once more the strain lessened and she started reeling in.