“I thought,” he stammered, “that I’d come down and see—and see if—if the fish was biting to-day—”
“Well,” said his father, grimly, “are they biting?”
“They’ve bit first-rate,” responded the boy, quickly. “I’ve got fourteen in this little puddle here.”
“Throw them back into the pond,” commanded Mr. Gaston.
Joe bent over, and taking the fish one by one from the little pool of water where he had placed them, he tossed them lightly into the lake. He came to one that, badly wounded, was floating on its side.
“’Taint any use throwing that one back,” he said. “It’s—”
“Throw it back!” was the stern command.
Joe threw it back. When this task was completed, Mr. Gaston said,—
“Have you got your knife in your pocket, Joseph?”