By
the time he had mastered the reel, and could land the sinker
accurately in front of various imaginary beds of bass weeds,
Dannie had finished the night work in both stables and gone home.
But his back door stood open and therefrom there protruded the
point of a long, heavy cane fish pole. By the light of a lamp on
his table, Dannie could be seen working with pincers and a ball
of wire.
"I wonder what he thinks he can do?" said Jimmy.
"I suppose he is trying to fix some way to get that fifteen feet
more line he needs," replied Mary.
When they went to bed the light still burned and the broad
shoulders of Dannie bent over the pole. Mary had fallen asleep,
but she was awakened by Jimmy slipping from the bed. He went to
the window and looked toward Dannie's cabin. Then he left the
bedroom and she could hear him crossing to the back window of the
next room. Then came a smothered laugh and he softly called her.
She went to him.
Dannie's figure stood out clear and strong in the moonlight, in
his wood-yard. His black outline looked unusually powerful in the
silvery whiteness surrounding it.
He held his fishing pole in both hands and swept a circle about
him that would have required considerable space on Lake Michigan,
and made a cast toward the barn.
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