"That's right," said Bill. "We'll have to get a whole lot of things we didn't have to get for Camp Pontiac; dunnage bags, sleeping bags, tump lines, fishing tackle, a lot of flies—"
"A lot of flies,—why, you dummy, we'll have to take some stuff along to get rid of the flies, from all I hear."
"You big dub, don't you know that they fish with flies?" said Bill in a disgusted tone.
"How do you catch them?" asked Pud.
"Say, what are you driving at?" asked Bill. "Do you really mean that you do not know that they fish with artificial flies?"
"Oh, artificial flies," said Pud. "Yes, I've heard of that, but I never saw any. My father's not a fisherman like yours."
"I should think not," said Bill.
"Well, don't swell up and bust because you know more about artificial flies than I do," said Pud, digging Bill in the ribs. "Before we come back, I'll be telling you a few things."
"Stop your kidding, you small giant," said Bill. "You can't be even sure of going until you see Mr. Waterman. I would not be surprised if they charge you two prices, for they will surely have to get an extra guide to carry the big canoe they'll have to have for you and another extra man to carry extra grub."
"Now, Bill, stop kidding and let me know if you really are going around to see Mr. Waterman to-night, for if you are, I'll go along," said Pud in a serious tone.