His reel whirred suddenly under his hand, and his rod bent double. There was a swirl in the water. The line ran out sharply, and something that was living gold in the sunlight leaped, flashed for an instant, and was gone again. Patsy uttered a howl.
“Leave him run, sir!—give and take! Reel in when the strain is off him. Aisy now, sir!”
“Off him!” gasped Wally. “Why, he pulls like a working bullock! Won’t the rod break?”
“It will not,” said Patsy. “Drop the point, sir, if he leps. Yerra, sure that’s a fine grand trout ye have—did ye see the great splashing rise he made to ye? Howld him, sir—he’ll get off on ye if ye slacken too much. Wind in when ye get a chanst, and bring him nice and aisy to the boat—I have the net ready.”
“Bring him to the boat!—it’s himself that’s doing all the bringing!” uttered Wally. “Tell me if I’m messing it up, Patsy.”
“Begob, you’re doing fine!” said Patsy—“ye’re playing him beautiful. Give and take, and his head’ll come up presently—don’t be afraid if he do run from ye. Oh, murder, there’s the little mistress got one too!”
Norah’s reel sang suddenly, and a fish went off astern. The owner of the rod made a wild effort to play him sitting down, and then stood up, her rod describing erratic circles while Mr. Linton grasped her skirt in a desperate effort to steady her.
“I’m all right, daddy!” she gasped. “Oh, such a beauty—I know he weighs a ton!”
“Let him go, miss!” shouted Patsy, rendered desperate by the hopelessness of coaching two novices at once. “Give him his head—he’ll come back to ye. There y’are, sir—did ye see his head come up?—wind him in! No, not you, miss—let him have his run: sure that one won’t be tired this long while, by the looks of him. Oh, murder, sir, is he gone from you?”—as the trout made a fresh dash for freedom and fled under the boat. “No,—howld on to the vilyun an’ he’ll be back. Kape a nice, steady strain on him, miss—give and take.” He hovered over the side, feverishly grasping the handle of the landing-net. “Ye have him bet, sir—here he comes. Nice and aisy does it—don’t hurry him—kape your point up. Back a little—ah, I have him!”
The net slipped under Wally’s fish deftly. Simultaneously, Norah’s trout executed a wild leap, and Norah reeled him, quite involuntarily, near the boat. Patsy, responding gallantly to her cry for help, dropped the first trout hastily, and turned just in time to net the second, by sheer good luck. The excitement of the moment overcame him, and Norah’s fish, falling upon Wally’s, entangled both casts and lines by a few frantic leaps, before Patsy could collect himself sufficiently to pounce upon them. The boat rocked with enthusiasm. Jim had prudently reeled in, to be out of the way of possible happenings, and stood, beaming, while the victorious anglers looked at each other with parted lips and shining eyes, and Mr. Burke wailed and triumphed alternately.