Ted picked out what he thought was a good spot and, posting Jan and Trouble a little way from it, cast in his hook.
He was sitting on a grassy bank near one of the deep pools spoken of by some of the farm hired men. Here the water had worn out a place in the shore, making what is called an eddy—a quiet, swirling bit of the stream where big fish love to swim.
Ted had not been fishing long when he felt that he had a bite.
“Oh, I’ve got a big one!” he called to Jan, who was busy keeping Trouble from falling into the stream. “I’ve got a whopper! Look, Jan!”
He pulled up. Something black went sailing through the air over his head. But no sooner had it landed than Ted found he had hooked an old rubber boot!
“Oh, jinks!” he cried in disgust. “Look at that!”
“That’s a funny fish!” laughed Jan.
“Well, I’ll get a real one this time!” declared her brother.
In he cast again. There came a gentle tug on his line.
“Now I’ve got a bite!” he shouted. Again he pulled up. Something flopped on the grass behind him.