"It's grab time," Schaadt stated with perfectly unwarranted enthusiasm.
We fished until it was pitch-dark and the salmon started to roll, but we caught nothing. I reeled in, pulled my anchor and started rowing back.
Bill took his regular fly off, replacing it with a large black one, made a cast, then pulled his anchor and began rowing slowly out of the pool.
"Got one!" I heard him yell somewhere in the dark. I rowed back, and he was all excited and laughing.
"Thought I'd troll out," he said. "You see, it's never too late!"