Tom told Mr. Martin about having seen a dog that looked exactly like Skyrocket in the Gypsy wagon, and Ted’s father wrote to Mr. Whitter, the station agent, asking him to find out if any of the queer folk, who lived in red wagons, with looking-glasses on the sides, were camping near Cresco.
One day, when no picnic parties were expected, and when Uncle Ben was not going to be very busy, he said:
“How would you like some fish to-morrow, Mrs. Martin?”
“I’d like them very much,” answered the mother of the Curlytops. “Do you think you could catch any in Silver Lake?”
“I might try,” answered Uncle Ben, with a funny wink of one eye. “But I think I’d need some help. There are pretty big fish in the lake, and perhaps I couldn’t pull one out all alone.”
“Oh, let me come!” cried Ted, who heard what was being said.
“Can’t I go?” shouted Tom.
“I want to fish!” added Janet, while Lola looked up from the floor where she and Jan were playing jackstones.
“Well, I guess we can get up a regular fishing party,” said Uncle Ben, with a laugh. “What do you say, Mrs. Martin; shall I take the Curlytops fishing?”
“You might,” was the answer. “If you bring home enough I’ll have Nora cook them for dinner.”