“Neither did I,” says Plunk.
“Nor me,” says Mark.
Well, that left it up to me. I did have a silver dollar—just one—and I felt in my pocket for it. It was there.
“I’ve heard of the goose that l-l-laid the golden egg, but I never heard tell of a bass that laid a s-silver dollar,” says Mark.
“I don’t b’lieve, and nobody’s goin’ to make me b’lieve, that fish left a dollar,” says Plunk, who didn’t always see a joke as quick as he ought to.
“But there’s the dollar to prove it,” says Mark, without a smile. “And he l-left it on purpose, ’cause it was wedged in and held there by a l-little stick. The bass must ’a’ got out on land and f-f-fixed it up that way so we wouldn’t miss findin’ it.”
“All I got to say,” says Plunk, with a mighty solemn expression, “is that if fish in this lake can leave silver dollars behind ’em, I hain’t goin’ to do a thing but fish from now on.”
“Good idee,” says Mark, “but I calc’late nothin’ but five-pound bass can do the trick. And five-pound bass hain’t very thick. Might try it, though, Plunk.”
“What do you make of it, Mark?” says I.
Mark was still peering around, examining the place as close as if he expected to find some more dollars. He got down on all-fours and looked at the ground, and then he sat back sort of contented-looking and self-satisfied.