No boat.
No deep water.
Enter only from the shallow bank.
Stop at thigh depth.
Throw toward the suspected center.
Drag slowly.
If the hook caught something, nobody would yank blindly.
They would assess.
Marcus considered it.
The heifer had changed the calculation.
“All right.”
Eli smiled.
“But I’m standing there.”
“Fine.”
“And if I tell you out, you get out.”
“Fine.”
“And no hero nonsense.”
“I wasn’t planning hero nonsense.”
Dale and Otis heard.
Naturally, they came.
Which was how five Voss County residents ended up beside the pond on a gray October morning behaving as though Eli’s experiment were a county sporting event.
Warren stood nearest the fence.
Marcus had his arms crossed.
Dale drank coffee from a dented thermos.
Otis had brought binoculars for reasons no one understood.
Eli wore old rubber boots, jeans, and a jacket he left on shore.
The nylon rope rested over one shoulder.