“Up or down?” asked Fenn.
“Row up and float down,” said Ned. “We don’t want to be working all the while.”
They went up the stream for two or three miles, and Frank, who had borrowed Ned’s fishing tackle, cast in. But the fish did not seem to be biting.
“Put up a little further,” suggested Frank. “We’re almost to the Riffles. I’d like to get a bite as long as I’m at it.”
As the boat was sent round a turn of the river the boys caught sight of another craft in which a man was seated. His boat appeared to be anchored, and as he stood in the bow he reached down into the water with a long pole and seemed to be pulling something up.
He did this several times, and on each occasion would carefully examine the end of the pole which he had stuck into the river.
“That’s an odd proceeding,” remarked Bart, as he looked at the lone boatman.