"I know what that is," announced Harry. "That's the Spanish moss we've heard about! At last, we're getting closer to the Treasure Chest. At least we've found something Spanish."
"Pull in toward the shore," requested Arnold. "I see a spot I think would be ideal for a fishes park. I can almost imagine I see numbers of young fish sitting around on the benches in the shady spots right now. They look so cool and comfortable!"
"I wonder if any of them are hungry enough to take a little lunch," mused Harry, pulling as close to the bank as he could.
"Try and see," advised Arnold. "I'm going to drop a line to a big young fellow I've heard about and see if he will answer."
Both boys laughed quietly at the conceit. Their day started finely and augured well. Preparing their tackle they lost no time in lowering an alluring bait to the finny denizens of the water.
Evidently the fish were hungry for not many minutes passed before Harry felt a tug at his line. He began reeling in rapidly.
"Oh, what a whopper," exclaimed Arnold peering over the side of the boat. "It's as long as my arm and big as a good sized stove pipe, I believe. One or two like that will be enough."
"Thanks," panted Harry. "Wait till I get this one."
Skillfully the lad drew the fish to a point where he could be sure of landing it without danger. Then he waited for his chum to assist with the landing net. The fish was a beauty.
"What shall we call it?" proudly questioned the lad.