Dannie was watching him, and rightly guessed that he would fish
deep. So Dannie scooped the remaining dirt from his pockets, and
found three grubs. He placed them on his hook, lightened his
sinker, and prepared to skitter once more.
Jimmy dropped his minnow beside the Kingfisher stump, and let it
sink. Dannie hit the water at the base of the stump, where it had
not been disturbed for a long time, a sharp "Spat," with his
worms. Something seized his bait, and was gone. Dannie planted
his feet firmly, squared his jaws, gripped his rod, and loosened
his line. As his eye followed it, he saw to his amazement that
Jimmy's line was sailing off down the river beside his, and heard
the reel singing.
Dannie was soon close to the end of his line. He threw his weight
into a jerk enough to have torn the head from a fish, and down
the river the Black Bass leaped clear of the water, doubled, and
with a mighty shake tried to throw the hook from his mouth.
"Got him fast, by God!" screamed Jimmy in triumph.
Straight toward them rushed the fish. Jimmy reeled wildly; Dannie
gathered in his line by yard lengths, and grasped it with the
hand that held the rod. Near them the Bass leaped again, and sped
back down the river. Jimmy's reel sang, and Dannie's line jerked
through his fingers.
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