“What does that mean, oh, boy of mystery?” said Uncle Jack.
“They suspect that I have discovered their plans,” I cried joyfully.
“And have you—are you sure?”
“Only wait five minutes, uncle, and you shall see,” I cried.
We entered the works, fastened the gate after us, and then, taking the end of my fishing-line as soon as we reached the grinding-shop, I began to bind the two meat-hooks one across the other.
“What, are you going to try for eels that way?” said Uncle Bob laughing, as my uncles seemed to be gradually making out what was to come.
“Well,” I said, “they broke my other line.”
By this time I had fastened the hooks pretty firmly, and to the cross I now secured the end of the clothes-line.
“Fine eel that, Cob,” said Uncle Dick, hunting the one I had caught into a corner, for it had been travelling all over the place.
“Yes,” I said; “and now the tackle’s ready, throw in and see if you can’t get another.”