“Clap the line in the basket, Mester Dick,” said Dave; “he’s took the bait and gone.”
“Why, what a big one he must have been!” cried Tom.
“Ah, he would be a big one!” said Dave with a chuckle, as he urged the punt rapidly on; “them as gets away mostlings is.”
“Didn’t you feel him a bit, Tom?” asked Dick.
“No, he had gone before I touched the line,” was the reply.
It was very disappointing; but there were the other trimmers to be examined, and though it would have puzzled a stranger, Dave went back with unerring accuracy to the next one that had been laid down.
This did not seem to have moved; and as it was drawn in, the bait was swimming strongly and well.
“Let him go, Dick,” said Tom.
“Well, I was going to, wasn’t I?” was the reply. “There you are, old chap, only got a hole in your gristly lip.”
He dropped the gudgeon into the water, and it lay motionless for a moment or two, and then darted downward as the punt glided on.