ht you to chuck a
fish up in the tree. You should strike gently, like that."

He gave the top of his rod a slight, quick twitch, and hooked a
good-sized roach. Dexter grinning to see him play it till it was feeble
enough to be drawn to the side and lifted out.

"That's the way grandfather taught me how to fish," continued the boy,
as he took the hook from the captive's mouth, "I say, what's your name!"

"Dexter Grayson," was the answer, for the boy felt keenly already that
the names Obed Coleby were ones of which he could not be proud.

"Ever been in the workus!"

"Yes."

"Ever see grandfather there!"

"Yes, I've seen him," said Dexter, who felt no inclination to enlighten
the boy further.

"Ah, he could fish," said the boy, baiting and throwing in again. "My
name's Dimsted--Bob Dimsted. So's father's. He can fish as well as
grandfather. So can I," he added modestly; "there ain't a good place
nowheres in the river as we don't know. I could take you where you
could ketch fish every swim."

"Could you?" said Dexter, who seemed awed in the presence of so much
knowledge.

"Course I could, any day."

"And will you?" said Dexter eagerly.

"Ah dunno," said the boy, striking and missing another fish. "You
wouldn't care to go along o' me?"

"Yes, I should--fishing," cried Dexter. "But my line's fast."

"Why don't you climb up and get it then? Ain't afraid, are you!"

"What, to climb that tree?" cried Dexter. "Not I;" and laying the rod
down with the butt resting on the bank, he began to climb at once.

"Mind yer don't tumble in," cried Bob Dimsted; "some o' them boughs gets
very rotten--like touchwood."

"All right," said Dexter; and he climbed steadily on in happy ignorance
of the fact that the greeny lichen and growth was not good for dark
cloth trousers and vests. But the bole of the tree was short, for it
had been pollarded, and in a minute or two he was in a nest of branches,
several of which protruded over the water, the one in particular which
had entangled the fishing-line being not even horizontal, but dipping
toward the surface.

"That's the way," shouted Bob Dimsted. "Look sharp, they're biting like
fun."

"Think it'll bear?" said Dexter.

"Bear? Yes; half a dozen on yer. Sit on it striddling, and work
yourself along till you can reach the line. Got a knife?"

"Yes."

"Then go right out, and when you git far enough cut off the little
bough, and let it all drop into the wat