“Water-haul!” declared Joe, finally.
“Humph,” repeated Sam.
“Pshaw!” exclaimed the boys, with disappointment, eyeing the empty seine as it lay on the sand.
“What do you mean by ‘water-haul’?” queried Hal.
“Water’s all we got, ain’t it, sonny?” responded Sam, sourly, throwing the net by armfuls into the boat.
“I reckon we don’t try again till the moon changes,” hinted Joe, with a sly wink at Ned. But as Hal refused to be hoaxed into asking more questions, after a slight pause he continued:
“Sam an’ me have got to go up to Newton for provisions an’ stuff. You boys can go or you can stay an’ we’ll take you in comin’ back.”
Newton was a river hamlet about two miles above.
“Better let ’em stay,” advised Sam, whom the “water-haul” appeared to have made very grumpy. “We’ve got enough to pull against the current, without them in too.”
“We’ll stay, of course,” spoke Ned.