"Well, I should call that No. 1," gravely replied Arnold. "He looks like a fellow I used to know by the name of 'A. No. 1.'"
"Good," cried the delighted Harry. "Now you go after his cousin. Get Mr. No. 2, and do it quickly."
"Here he comes," declared Arnold. "I knew I spit, no, spat--what should I say, spitted or spatted?--on that bait just right."
"You watch out or he'll walk away with the bait and all."
"Bingo," yelled Arnold. "I got him."
Harry laughed to see the way Arnold was struggling to keep the fish. For a short time it looked as if the fish had Arnold. At last after a long battle the fish was exhausted and gave up.
"That's a better one than mine," was Harry's generous comment.
"They're just about as nearly twins as it's possible to get them," asserted Arnold. "And they're both beauties. It's nearly noon by my watch, so I vote we go ashore and build a fire. Some fish for dinner wouldn't go bad at all. What are these, Bass?"
"I don't think so," objected Harry. "See that red spot just at the root of their tail? Well, the natives a call that redfish."
"All right," agreed Arnold, "fresh redfish will go mighty fine. And I'm hungry enough to eat a big one myself."