he mouth of the creek; but they had not been anchored
ten minutes before a deep-toned cheery voice from the bank hailed them
with,

"Hey, boys! Having good luck?"

"Pretty good," said Charley. "Have you caught anything?--anything
bigger'n minners?"

"Well, a fish or two. Come ashore and I'll show 'em. Besides, I want you
to give me a lift with your boat."

The boys were ready enough to have a look into that fish-basket, and the
anchor came up in a hurry.

"See," said the fat man, as he lifted the lid of his basket.

"Why, it's more'n half full."

"All trout too, and some of 'em are big ones."

"Mister," said Charley, "did you bring any of them from the city with
you?"

"I guess not," chuckled the fat man. "I got most of 'em in the brook,
but I did fairly well along the creek. Now do you see those bushes at
the foot of the steep bank just below the mouth of the creek?"

"Yes," said Charley; "there's an awful deep hole right there."

"Well, I want to float over, slow and silent, so I can throw a fly right
under those bushes."

"You'll get caught in 'em."

"I'll risk that."

He sat down on the front seat, and Charley rowed him over as if he were
afraid of making a ripple on the water. He and Jeff were almost holding
their breath with excitement over what their fat friend meant to do.

"That's it. Let her float."

The light graceful rod swung back, a remarkable length of very fine line
went floating through the air, and the boys could see something like a
small dragon-fly at the end of it.

"No sinker, Jeff," whispered Charley.

"It's just lit on the water."

It was a beautiful cast, and the fly fell at the very edge of the
bushes, on a dark and shady spot of water with a small eddy in it.

Splash!

What a plunge that was!

"He jumped clean out of the water," exclaimed Jeff.

"You've lost your hook this time, mister, and your bait too. That's a
pickerel, and we call him the boss fish."

"It's a bigger fish than I had reckoned on," said the stranger, "or I'd
have brought a heavier rod and tackle."

"He'll snap any line you've got."

"We'll see."

The pickerel had felt the sharp point of that small hook, and he was now
darting off toward the mouth of the creek.

The fat man took it coolly, holding his rod with one hand, while the
other rested on the large bright brass reel, that was now spinning
around as the fish drew the line out.

The tough little rod was bending, but there was no gr