nto motion, the water frothed and flashed
white and the line in his hand sang like a piano wire. Automatically, he
jerked his line and began to reel in, at the same time his mind was
telling him no line of its weight could long hold what he had hooked. As
suddenly as the action had begun, it was ended and he was pulling
something heavy against the stream bank. He gaped at it, his eyes
popping. Then he heard the rustle of leaves and the snap of a stick
behind him.

"Catch somep'n, teach'?" a voice asked.

"Yes, I caught something." He got his tobacco pouch from his pocket and
filled his pipe, trying to keep his hands from trembling.

"Gee, he's a _big_ one, teach'," the voice said.

Ward stood up. The boy, Jacky Hodge, leaning over the bank looking down
at the fish. Behind him, Ward saw Bobby, Alec Cress, Danny and several
others. _Now which of you is laughing?_ he wondered. But there was no
way to tell. Jacky, a boy of twelve or thirteen, had his usual look of
stupid good nature. Bobby, under the flambeau of red hair, dreamed at
the fish. The others wore the open poker faces of children.

"That's a _funny_ fish," one of them said and then they were all
laughing as they raced away.

With some difficulty, Ward got the fish out of the water and began to
drag it up the hill toward his house.

"Outspace fish," Ward said as he dumped the thing on the work table
where Ann had deposited the bag of groceries.

"Where did you get _that_?"

"I just caught it. Down in the stream."

"_That?_ In our stream?"

"Yeah."

He looked at it. The fish resembled a small marlin in shape, but it
looked as if its sides had been painted by an abstract artist.

"They planted it on my hook," he told her. "Teleported it from somewhere
and planted it on me. Like the tigers."

"Who?"

"I don't know--one of the kids. There were a bunch of them down by the
river."

"Is it the proof you wanted?"

"Almost. I'd like to make them--whoever they are--admit it, though. But
you can't pry anything out of them. They stick together like--like kids,
I guess. Tell me, why is it that the smart ones don't discriminate?
They'd as soon play with morons like Hodge or Cress as with the brainy
ones."

"Democratic, I guess," Ann said. She looked at the fish without
enthusiasm and turned it over on its other side. "Weren't you the same
way, when you were a boy?"

"Guess so. Leader of my group was almost an idiot. Head of the 3Rs now."
He started to