fish and the biggest."

"Come on, Jeff," shouted Charley; "we'll beat him!"

But then he suddenly turned again to say:

"Now, mister, you've got your scoop-net along. Minners don't count, do
they?"

"No, sonny, minnows won't count. Only fish that are big enough to eat."

Charley had never seen a "landing-net" used in his life, but he knew
what minnows were good for.

"If we had some, Jeff," he said, as they hurried along toward the pond,
"we could try for some pickerel. There's some of them left. Only they've
been fished for so much, they know enough to let a hook alone."

"Big ones?"

"Some of 'em. There's one awful big one. Black Dan--he's the best
fisherman round here, only he's lame of one leg--he says it's the boss
fish, and he's fished for him a whole day at a time."

"Did he ever get him to bite?"

"No; but he says he's seen that pickerel smell of his bait, and then
swim up to the top of the water and wink at him."

"Wish we could catch him."

"If I had that feller's scoop-net, and could get some minners."

But he had no such thing; and in a few minutes more they were in their
boat on the pond, while the stranger was walking fast, for a fat man,
across the meadow toward the trout brook.

This was a very narrow, crooked affair, pretty deep in many places, and
almost hidden by high grass, trees, and bushes.

"We know there are no fish there," said Charley, confidently.

"Not even trout?"

"Well, yes, maybe there's trout. But they won't bite. Not even before
breakfast. Anyhow, they won't go for a bare hook, with a feather on it."

That seemed sensible, and Charley's own hook now had a worm on it, and
so had Jeff's.

"We'll beat him. I know just where to go. We're in the right spot."

Perhaps he did; but before the morning was over he and Jeff had moved
their boat into nearly a dozen more that seemed to be just as good.

The "pond" was a sort of miniature lake, and was nearly half a mile
long, although it was nowhere very wide. It was supplied by what Mr.
Galloway, the landlord, called the "creek"--a pretty stream of water
about ten times as large as the trout brook in the meadow.

There were fish in that pond, and it was a pity the man from the city
had not known it, and tried for some of them with angle-worms, instead
of wasting his time over there in the meadow.

As it was, Jeff and Charley had it all to themselves, and the latter was
half glad his city cousin got the first bite.

"G