“Whoop! I’ve got a big one!” ejaculated Ned, and he pulled a wiggling beauty ashore.
It was the best catch so far, and the other boys congratulated Ned on his luck. Several other large-sized fish were pulled out after that until the boys’ baskets were nearly full.
“Haven’t we got plenty?” asked Frank. “Let’s quit and eat.”
“Good enough!” exclaimed Bart. “I’ve got a vacancy just beneath my belt,” and he patted the region of his stomach in a suggestive manner.
Frank, who had charge of the lunch basket, into which the boys had put what they had brought from home, opened it. As he was handing around the sandwiches there was a noise in the bushes behind where the lads were seated. They started, thinking it might be the strange man again, but they were relieved when they saw it was Jim Nelson, who had the reputation of being the laziest boy in town.
“Hello, Jim,” called Ned.
“Um,” grunted Jim. It seemed too much of an effort to speak. “Bait?” he asked, with a motion toward his own fishing tackle which he carried over his shoulder.
“Well, if you aren’t the limit!” exclaimed Ned. “You started off fishing and depended on finding some one to lend you the bait. Too lazy to dig it, I suppose?”
“Tired,” responded Jim, as if that explained it all. “Throw over,” he added, which the boys construed into a request that the bait can be passed over, since Jim had flopped down in a comfortable attitude on the bank.