"I wouldn't lie for any fellow," replied Bobby, stoutly, as he pulled in his seventh fish, and placed him in the basket.
"Wouldn't you?"
"No, I wouldn't."
"Then, let me tell you this; if you peach on me I'll smash your head."
Tom Spicer removed one hand from the fish pole and, doubling his fist, shook it with energy at his companion.
"Smash away," replied Bobby, coolly. "I shall not go out of my way to tell tales; but if your mother or the master asks me the question, I shall not lie."
"Won't you?"
"No, I won't."
"I'll bet you will;" and Tom dropped his fish pole, and was on the point of jumping over to the rock occupied by Bobby, when the float of the former disappeared beneath the surface of the water.
"You have got a bite," coolly interposed Bobby, pointing to the line.