“What luck, fellows?”
“Great!” responded Jock. “What have you had? How many have you got?”
“We’ve sixty or seventy pounds,” replied Ben, as he resumed his seat.
“What does he mean by that?” inquired Jock, turning to George as he spoke.
“Oh, everybody down here measures a catch by its weight. They don’t count their fish; they weigh ’em, or guess at the weight.”
“How much have we got?”
“We haven’t over fifty pound. Hold up that pike, and ask ’em whether they’ve got anything to match that.”
Jock held aloft Bob’s prize, and called proudly, “Have you anything to match that? Isn’t that a beauty?”
“That’s pretty good,” replied Ben, “but we’ve one that can go you one better;” and as he spoke he, too, held up a pike which certainly was no smaller than the one in Jock’s hands, and might be even larger.