Afternoon came, and the shadows of the low hills were thrown far across the stream. Here and there a splash denoted that the fish were waking from their midday torpor and were ready for prey. Little Tim resumed his rod, and slowly retraced his steps along the shore in the direction of Ellison dam and Benton.
It was about four o'clock as he neared a point in the stream a half-mile above the dam, where the water flowed very quietly past the edge of some thick alders. There were pickerel in that water. Tim knew the place of old; and he drew near softly, to make a cast. The bright troll fell with a tinkle on the still surface, and he drew it temptingly past the thicket.
A quick whirl—and how the line did tauten and the rod bend! The whole tip of it went under water. He had struck a big fish. He brought him to the surface with some effort; but the fish was not to be easily subdued. A sudden dart and he was away again, diving deep and straining the rod to its utmost.
Seeing he had a fish of unusual size, the boy played him carefully; let him have the line and tire himself for a moment, then reeled in as the line slackened.
"He's a four pounder; giminy, how he fights!" exclaimed Little Tim. And he gave a sudden yell of triumph as he saw that the fish was firmly hooked, with the troll far down its distended jaws.
Then his impatience got the better of him, and he gave a great lift on the rod, with the line reeled up short. Just at that moment too, it seemed the fish had tired; for, as Tim strained, the big pickerel came out of water as with a leap. The stout rod straightened with a jerk that yanked the fish out, sent it flying through the air and lodged it away up in the top of some thick alders that bordered the shore. There, the line tangling, it hung suspended, twisting and doubling in vain effort to free itself.
Little Tim laughed joyfully.
"Got to shin for that fellow," he said, stepping ashore and eying the prize that dangled above his head.
But, as he stooped to lay down his pole, the discharge of a shotgun close at hand made him jump with astonishment. Still more amazed was he to see the dangling fish fall between the alder branches to the ground. Then, before he had recovered from his astonishment, a youth dashed forward and seized it.
The youth was Benny Ellison.