"Be lookin' at that, will ye?" he heaved. "What does the domn fool
think the Black Bass will be doin' while he is takin' in line on
that young windlass?"
"There'd be no room on the river to do that," answered Mary
serenely. "Dannie wouldn't be so foolish as to try. All he wants
now is to see if his line will run, and it will. Whin he gets to
the river, he'll swing his bait where he wants it with his pole,
like he always does, and whin the Bass strikes he'll give it the
extra fifteen feet more line he said he needed, and thin he'll have
a pole and line with which he can land it."
"Not on your life he won't!" said Jimmy.
He opened the back door and stepped out just as Dannie raised the
pole again.
"Hey, you! Quit raisin' Cain out there!" yelled Jimmy. "I want to
get some sleep."
Across the night, tinged neither with chagrin nor rancor, boomed
the big voice of Dannie.
"Believe I have my extra line fixed so it works all right," he
said. "Awful sorry if I waked you. Thought I was quiet."
"How much did you make off that?" inquired Mary.
"Two points," answered Jimmy. "Found out that Dannie ain't sore at
me any longer and that you are."
Next morning was no sort of angler's weather, but the afternoon
gave promise of being good fishing by the morrow. Dannie worked
about the farms, preparing for winter; Jimmy worked with him until
mid-afternoon, then he hailed a boy passing, and they went away
together. At supper time Jimmy had not returned.
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