"No. I'd be glad to give 'em to you. And here's some grasshoppers I didn't use. They'll be good to fish with to-morrow."
"Thanks," said Bert, as he took the tin box Will held out. Inside could be heard a queer little "ticking" noise, as the grasshoppers leaped up against the cover.
"Say, these are sure some fine fish!" exclaimed Will.
"Oh, you'll catch just as nice ones to-morrow," the country boy said.
"I'll have to run now, or I'll be late at the farm."
"Good-bye!" called Bert and Harry as Will hurried off along the edge of the creek. "See you to-morrow, maybe."
Will had no idea that he would see his friends then. He knew he had a hard day's work in prospect for the next day—weeding a large patch of onions that were so far away from the creek that he would have no chance, even at his noon hour, of going down to the water for a cool little swim.
Will did not know what queer things were going to happen to him very soon, nor did any of the Bobbseys realize what a part they were to play in the life of poor, friendless Will Watson.
"He's a nice boy, isn't he?" asked Harry of Bert, as they turned back toward the boat, with their fish and bait.
"Yes, I like him a lot. It's too bad he has to work so hard on the farm."
"Yes, it sure is."