“Nonsense!” I cried, pettishly.
“But I’m afraid he has gone out for a walk this time, and it’s a case of call again to-morrow. No,” he added, energetically, “it’s all right. Says he’s at home.”
“Why, what do you mean?” I cried.
“Got a bite,” said Morgan, grinning. “You try. But mind he don’t come out with a rush. He might be nasty.”
I hesitated for a moment, then leaning my own pole against a bush, I took hold of the one Morgan gave into my hands, and moved it slightly.
“Well?” I said. “I don’t feel anything.”
“Give it a bit of a stir round, my lad,” he said.
I moved the pole a little, and then jumped and let go.
“What’s the matter?” cried Morgan, laughing.
“Something bit the pole, and made it jar right up my arm.”