"In that case we'll name it ourselves," grinned George.
"I'll tell you what we'll do," suggested Sammy. "The one that catches the first fish will have the right to name the river."
"That's a go," agreed Bob, "and I'm going to be the one."
"Don't crow too soon," warned Frank. "I don't see any medals on you as a fisherman."
"If you fellows don't stop your chinning, you'll scare the fish away and none of us will be able to catch anything," warned George.
"And then the poor old river will have to go without a name a little longer," mocked the irrepressible Sammy.
George tried to squelch him with a look but with no success.
"Here goes for the first fish," murmured Bob in a half whisper, as he baited his line and threw it into the stream.
The others had soon followed his example and a hush fell on the group as they settled down for business.
For a few minutes there was not even a nibble. Then Frank's line was almost jerked out of his hand.