murmur of insects.

Near Jeems' side his faithful shepherd dog was curled up in lazy
contentment, with his eyes peacefully closed, opening with an
occasional blink, then closing again. It was a happy interval for
Jeems, and he thoroughly enjoyed the quietness of the scene, for he
was a philosopher by nature as well as by name, and he liked to have
time for his own mind. "You can't hatch thoughts unless you sit on
'em a while," was one of his quaint phrases.

Meanwhile, Tom and Jo were walking across the sunny meadows with their
minds filled with great expectations of the trout they were about to
catch. It was a sort of a holiday for them, and they did not envy Jim
and Juarez in the least, and were actually sorry for Jeems, since they
were born fishermen. When they reached the stream they separated, Jo
going up where there were some willow bushes overhanging the water,
and Tom going down where he hoped to find some quiet pools.

The whole valley was a scene of utmost peace, and no one would dream
that there was war gathering, as it were, in the near future, but
there undoubtedly was. The only bit of tactics that Jo had in his mind
at present was how to get the big trout who lurked in the shadow of
the limpid pool. He cast carefully and watched the float on his
line with intense interest. Five minutes passed, then came the
heart-throbbing second when the float went under and there was a
strong, tense pull on the line. Steadily Jo pulled until there shone
in the air a gleaming trout.

It was a beauty with olive-green back, shading down the sides to white
with spots of black and red. It was thirteen inches in length, and Jo
promised himself quite a triumph over Tom when he should show him this
prize. By noon Jo had caught ten fish varying from seven inches to a
foot in length. He and Tom met down stream several miles, at noon.

"What luck?" inquired Tom.

"Better than yours," declared Jo proudly. "I've got the biggest fish."

"You have not," said Tom, and to prove it he pulled out of his bag a
good big trout.

"There!"

"Huh! You just wait," retorted Jo, fishing into his sack. "How does
that strike you?" and he pulled out his champion.

"Let's measure," said Tom. Jo's fish was a half inch longer, and he
also had two more than his brother, for Tom had caught only eight.

They ate their lunch on a little gravelly knoll where there were some
pine trees not far from the stream.

What with a couple of trout, back