"Do big fellows like that bite on potatoes?"
They were assured that such was the case.
"Say," John scratched nervously at a knot in a pier plank as he summoned courage for his request. "Give me a hunk, will you? I never caught a fish that big in my life and I sure want to!"
"Catch." The man's eyes flashed in amusement as he opened a deep cigar box and tossed out a half-boiled tuber.
For a second time that morning, the boys tested a new type of bait. Hoping to change his luck, John cast far out to the very limit of the ten cents' worth of fishing line on his reel and sat, tensely hopeful, for five dragging minutes. Then he jammed the pole into its old resting place between the bent nails.
"No use," he exclaimed in disgust to Silvey.
Hardly were the words out of his mouth before the reel gave a sharp click of alarm. The sagging line grew taut and rose more and more from the water as an unseen something made a frightened break for liberty. John seized the handle as the rod threatened to drop into the water and jumped to his feet.
"Gee!" he cried, half frightened by the weight and resistance of the fish, "Gee!"
Silvey strained his eyes far out in an effort to descry the captive. The southerner who had given the minnows sprang forward with a shout of "Play him, boy, play him. Give him line until he turns or he'll break away."
"Can't," John gasped, his heart in his mouth. "It's all out, now."