THE "WHUSTLER" 243 



just behind caused me to wheel round 

 to attention at the prow once more. To 

 the left, not more than ten yards off, was 

 a circle of writhing water. 



"I saw her,' Ronald was exclaiming 

 in low tones ; " and she's no' off yet. 

 Reel up, sir ; reel up like the tevil when 

 ye've got the chance." 



Obeying, in less than a minute I had 

 the happiness of discovering that Ronald 

 was right. The whustler was not off 

 He had merely changed his tactics. Per- 

 haps he had leapt to snap the line ; 

 perhaps 



This was no time for conjectures. The 

 fish was running down the loch at a very 

 rapid pace. Like a living thing on 

 lightsome wing, the boat sped before the 

 oars as it never sped before ; yet the reel 

 was screeching. Just as the end-of-the- 

 tether crisis was at hand, the whustler 

 slowed down a little : indeed, it was 

 possible to recover a few yards of line. 



"That's richt, sir,' said Ronald en- 

 couragingly, but rowing as hard as ever. 



