“Can you throw so far?”
“Yers!” cried the shabby boy. “You’ll give me the box again, won’t you?”
“Yes; I’ll throw it back.”
The boy on the other side divided his bait by putting some in a piece of paper. Then putting a stone in his little round tin box, he walked back a few yards so as to give himself room, stepped forward, and threw the box right across, Dexter catching it easily.
“Now, you try one o’ them,” said the donor of the fresh bait.
Dexter eagerly did as was suggested, and five minutes after there was a sharp tug, which half drew his float below the surface.
“Why, you didn’t strike,” said the boy sharply.
“Well, you can’t strike ’em till you’ve got hold of them,” retorted Dexter; and the shabby-looking boy laughed.
“Yah!” he said; “you don’t know how to fish.”
“Don’t I! Why, I was taught to fish by some one who knows all about it.”