“Try your luck with this,” he said, dropping the fly and line at Chuck’s feet.
“You can start the fire now,” grinned Chuck as he picked up the line and started for the pool. “I’ll have a couple of one pounders in five minutes.”
“Say, who’s going to clean the fish?” asked Slim.
“If I catch them, you ought to be willing to do the cleaning,” said Chuck.
“But it’s my tackle you’re using,” Slim reminded him.
“You would have to suggest that,” retorted Chuck. “That being the case, we’ll split the work. I’ll catch the fish, you build the fire, and we’ll both clean them.”
“If any,” chuckled Slim.
Chuck strode off downstream and Slim gathered up an armful of wood for the fire. Then he walked down to the pool. Chuck had used his knife to cut a sapling for use as a pole and he was casting energetically with the fly.
“How many?” asked Slim.
“Not a one so far, but just wait a minute.”