n toward the water. He had hooked a heavy fish. The
line hissed away to the right, and almost at once picked up a good-sized
piece of seaweed.

"It's a big fish!" I exclaimed, excitedly. "Look at him go!... That
seaweed will make you lose him. Let me wade out and pull it off?"

"No! Let's take a chance.... Too late, anyhow! Gee! He's going!... He's
got two hundred yards out!"

Two-thirds of the line was off the reel, and the piece of seaweed seemed
to be a drag on the fish. He slowed up. The line was tight, the rod
bent. Suddenly the tip sprang back. We had seen that often before.

"Gone!" said R. C., dejectedly.

But I was not so sure of that, although I was hopeless. R. C. wound in,
finding the line came slowly, as if weighted. I watched closely. We
thought that was on account of the seaweed. But suddenly the reel began
to screech.

"I've got him yet!" yelled R. C., with joy.

I was overjoyed, too, but I contained myself, for I expected dire
results from that run.

Zee! Zee! Zee! went the reel, and the rod nodded in time.

"We must get rid of that seaweed or lose him.... Pull up your anchor
with one hand.... Careful now."

He did so, and quickly I got mine up. What ticklish business!

"Keep a tight line!" I cautioned, as I backed the canoe hard with all my
power. It was not easy to go backward and keep head on to the wind. The
waves broke over the end of the canoe, splashing me in the face so I
could taste and smell the salt. I made half a dozen shoves with the
paddle. Then, nearing the piece of seaweed, I dropped my anchor.

In a flash I got that dangerous piece of seaweed off R. C.'s line.

"Good work!... Say, but that helps.... We'd never have gotten him," said
R. C., beaming. I saw him look then as he used to in our sunfish,
bent-pin days.

"We've not got him yet," I replied, grimly. "Handle him as easily as you
can."

Then began a fight. The bonefish changed his swift, long runs, and took
to slow sweeps to and fro, and whenever he was drawn a few yards closer
he would give a solid jerk and get that much line back. There was much
danger from other pieces of floating weed. R. C. maneuvered his line to
miss them. All the time the bonefish was pulling doggedly. I had little
hope we might capture him. At the end of fifteen minutes he was still a
hundred yards from the canoe and neither of us had seen him. Our
excitement grew tenser every moment. The fish sheered to and fro, and
would not come into s