"What sort of a boy is he?" inquired the latter, continuing the conversation which we have so unceremoniously broken off.
"I don't know," replied Harry. "Some of the boys like him, but Ben. Lake says he's the biggest rascal in the village. He's got two or three guns, half a dozen fish-poles, and, by what I hear the boys say, he must be a capital sportsman. But he tells the most ridiculous stories about what he has done."
By this time Charles had almost reached them, and, when he came alongside, he rested on his oars and called out,
"Well, boys, how many fish have you caught?"
"So many," answered George, holding up the string, which contained over a hundred perch and black-bass. "Have you caught any thing?"
"Not much to brag of," answered Charles; "I hooked up a few little perch just behind the point. But that is a tip-top string of yours."
"Yes, pretty fair," answered Harry. "You see we know where to go."
"That does make some difference," said Charles. "But as soon as I know the good places, I'll show you how to catch fish."
"We will show you the good fishing-grounds any time," said George.
"Oh, I don't want any of your help. I can tell by the looks of a place whether there are any fish to be caught or not. But you ought to see the fishing-grounds we have in New York," he continued. "Why, many a time I've caught three hundred in less than half an hour, and some of them would weigh ten pounds."