“Whatever it is, there are more out there,” said Frank. “Get after them, Bart. We’ll daze the fellows when we bring in a mess of these dandies.”
Hodge had arranged a tempting bait on his hook, and now he made a fancy throw that carried the whole length of the line out of the boat. The hook struck far away on the water and sank, while the fish Frank had caught flopped in the bottom of the canoe, stirring up the others to a merry, pattering dance.
“Pull in by the time your hook sinks three or four feet,” said Frank, looking after his own bait. “These big fellows are on the surface.”
Bart obeyed, and he had not drawn his hook a third of the way to the canoe before it was snapped up, bringing a little cry of satisfaction from his lips.
“Oh, this is sport!” he exclaimed. “I thought we had fun with those little fellows.”
“Those little fellows!” laughed Frank. “A short time ago you were calling them beauties.”
“They seemed so then, but these are so much larger—no you don’t, old chap!—and they are so much whiter! I hope we can get a big mess of them!”
Then Bart snapped into the boat a fish quite as large as the one Merriwell had caught. He held the shining beauty up and feasted his eyes on the spectacle a moment. Then the hook was removed, and the fish was tossed down to help stir up his gasping comrades.
By this time Frank had hooked another, and for fifteen minutes the fun was fast and furious. Once they were forced to pick up the paddles and get ahead of the school again; but finally, with amazing suddenness, the fish ceased biting.
“Where have they gone?” asked Bart. “I can’t see them jumping anywhere.”