“Where would you fish?”
“Der vater in, uf course. I vould like to haf a goot mess uf fish to take me home for dinner.”
“We can provide you with tackle, but no bait for still fishing. We have nothing but flies for casting.”
“Dot kind uf bait didt not use me,” said Carl solemnly; “but uf you vill let me haf the tackles, I vill der bait get. Yah.”
Rodney brought forth a stout steel rod, which he quickly put together and to which he attached a line-wound reel. The line being run through the eyelets, he bent on a leader and hook and nipped some split shot into place, to serve as sinkers.
“There you are,” he said, handing the outfit over to Duckelstein. “Now go ahead and fish as much as you like.”
“I vas much opliged,” grinned the Dutch boy. “I vill get some bait undt fish der rocks off, undt see what vill catch me. I hope it vas not an eels. An eels iss a pad fish und I didt not like him. An eels I vould not touch uf you vould a hundred tollars gif me.”
“I don’t think you’re likely to catch an eel off those rocks,” said Rod.
A short distance from the point was a bit of wet shore, where Carl proceeded to search for his bait, turning over a number of flat rocks and capturing some wiggling creatures, which he calmly put into his pocket. When he had secured enough of these, he proceeded to the rocks, sat down on one of them and baited his hook.
“He’ll never catch anything there,” declared Piper. “If he does, it won’t amount to anything.”