“It can’t be any too short to suit me,” Bob declared.
“Well, I have found that there’s a lot of waiting to do in this game,” the Captain said.
“How do you think the men would like a mess of trout for supper?” Bob asked.
“Fine. Think you can get some?”
“I’m pretty sure of it. There’s a little brook a short piece back and unless I’m greatly mistaken there’s trout in it.”
“All right. Go to it only don’t get lost. I guess though that’s a fool thing to say to you,” the Captain added with a laugh.
Bob was gone about an hour and when he returned he had twenty fine brook trout averaging about a half a pound.
“Bully for you, son,” cried one of the men. “Those will go fine for supper.”
After supper they sat around and told stories until the Captain declared that it was time for taps. They had decided that it would be useless to keep a watch after dark.
“That machine won’t come in the night even if the others do,” the Captain had said and all agreed with him.