"Not unless she is at the bottom of the lake," answered Bart. "You must remember that this pond is rather deep in some spots."
As soon as Bartlett Point was gained they found a convenient spot where to fish and went at the pleasure without delay.
But, though they had hoped to make some hauls at once, ten minutes passed and they did not get so much as a nibble.
"Somebody in this crowd is a Jonah!" grumbled Joe.
"We must all be it," grinned Fred, "since nobody has a bite."
"Let us go up the shore a short distance," suggested Bart.
This suggestion was carried out, and inside of half an hour they located a spot where fishing proved to be excellent. They drew up some perch, some lake trout and rock bass, and Bart also landed a big fish which he could not exactly identify.
"This is what I call sport!" cried Joe, enthusiastically. "Nine fish already and we haven't been at it an hour and a half all told!"
"Don't be too hilarious," cautioned Bart. "Our luck may desert us."
By noon the boys had a beautiful mess of the finny tribe, and then they elected to go ashore, start up a campfire and cook three of the small fish to eat with the lunch they had brought along.