wim in the water above it. Uncle Eb
had looped an end of the bed cord and tied a few pebbles on it with bits
of string.

'Now,' said he presently, 'I want t' sink this loop t' the bottom an'
pass the end o' the cord under the driftwood so 't we can fetch it
'crost under water.'

There was a big stump, just opposite, with roots running down the bank
into the stream. I shoved the line under the drift with a pole and then
hauled it across where Uncle Eb drew it up the bank under the stump
roots.

'In 'bout half an hour I cal'late Mose Tupper'll be 'long,' he
whispered. 'Wisht ye'd put on yer clo's an' lay here back o' the stump
an' hold on t' the cord. When ye feel a bite give a yank er two an' haul
in like Sam Hill--fifteen feet er more quicker'n scat. Snatch his pole
right away from him. Then lay still.'

Uncle Eb left me, shortly, going up stream. It was near an hour before I
heard them coming. Uncle Eb was talking in a low tone as they came down
the other bank.

'Drop right in there,' he was saying, 'an' let her drag down, through
the deep water, deliberate like. Git clus t' the bottom.'

Peering through a screen of bushes I could see an eager look on the
unlovely face of Moses. He stood leaning toward the water and jiggling
his hook along the bottom. Suddenly I saw Mose jerk and felt the cord
move. I gave it a double twitch and began to pull. He held hard for a
jiffy and then stumbled and let go yelling like mad. The pole hit the
water with a splash and went out of sight like a diving frog. I brought
it well under the foam and driftwood. Deep Hole resumed its calm,
unruffled aspect. Mose went running toward Uncle Eb.

''S a whale!' he shouted. 'Ripped the pole away quicker'n lightnin'.'

'Where is it?' Uncle Eb asked.

'Tuk it away f'm me,' said Moses. 'Grabbed it jes' like thet,' he added
with a violent jerk of his hand.

'What d' he dew with it?' Uncle Eb enquired.

Mose looked thoughtfully at the water and scratched his head, his
features all a tremble.

'Dunno,' said he. 'Swallered it mebbe.'

'Mean t' say ye lost hook, line, sinker 'n pole?'

'Hook, line, sinker 'n pole,' he answered mournfully. 'Come nigh haulin'
me in tew.'

''Tain't possible,' said Uncle Eb.

Mose expectorated, his hands upon his hips, looking down at the water.

'Wouldn't eggzac'ly say 'twas possible,' he drawled, 'but 'twas a fact.'

'Yer mistaken,' said Uncle Eb.

'No I hain't,' was the answer, 'I tell ye I see it.'