80 AN ANGLER'S SEASON 



with less deliberation and greater speed ! 

 This time he did not shirk the cavern. 

 He ran right in, and settled down. There 

 had been no stopping him. I had, as 

 before, applied the closure when the cast- 

 loop was a foot from the top ring ; but 

 that had been of no avail. He had merely 

 pulled the rod into a sharper curve. 



This was a painful deadlock. There 

 was no possibility of hoping that the fish 

 would be in a hurry to come out. I was 

 under arrest, and should have to remain so 

 until help arrived. Home was less than a 

 mile away. It was just possible that if I 

 were late for luncheon "Miss Winsome" 

 might divine that something of the kind 

 had happened, and would come. Rarely 

 had I needed her more. Should I lay down 

 the rod, drop from the high bank, and 

 drive the fish out with the landing-net? 

 If I did, he might have the rod away with 

 him before I could scramble up again. 

 On the other hand, how long was I to 

 stand in this humiliating pose ? Hark ! 

 A footfall on the high road, just behind ! 



