"I reckon not!" muttered Stayford to himself, for in his opinion only the youthful victor of the shooting-match could have performed such a feat.
"No; I aimed too high," said Owen in response to Martin's doubt.
"That's bad luck, at any rate," Martin grumbled, "we've lost the turtle and frightened away the perch."
"I am willing to give them the full fifteen minutes; they have—have eight minutes left," replied Owen.
"In goes the minnow—and under goes the bobber—and out comes the first—first—first perch!" cried Martin, with excitement, at the same time landing a perch weighing about a pound.
"That must be a straggler," said Owen, "let us see whether he brought a companion along."
He threw in his line at the same place, and almost the same moment, as his float moved slowly off, began to repeat, "I—I—I—have—have—have—ve—a fine one," and when he finished the last word he pulled in a perch twice the size of Martin's.
"Good!" shouted Martin; "I wonder what brought him around."
"Don't know; but now for the fun if we have struck a school of them."
For four hours the boys did not move from the spot. Fish after fish was landed, until a string of forty perch was the reward of their day's effort.