"On my part I'm inclined to feel sorry for old Aaron," declared Will, who had a tender heart. "He looks like a man who has suffered heaps. And then, you know, he's interested in the same things I am, which ought to make me think of him as a fellow artist."
After more talk Will hastily hid the tell-tale print as Jerry was seen approaching. The other looked a little suspiciously at them as though he wondered why Will secreted something so hurriedly at his coming; but other matters arising, he soon forgot the circumstance.
On the following morning Bluff and Jerry went out in the boat to fish, and the latter soon found himself enjoying the thrill that comes to the angler when fast to a vigorous two-pound black bass bred in the cold water of a big northern lake.
The fun grew when Bluff struck the mate to Jerry's fighter, and both boys were put to their best efforts in order to save the fish, as well as to keep them from fouling the lines, in which case one or both might have broken away.
In the end they managed to scoop up both prizes in the landing net, and this gave them more pleasure than many generals would find in capturing a fortress.
About ten o'clock the boys came in. Jerry said they were tired of sitting in the sun and playing havoc with the fish, for they had put back many small ones, being real sportsmen. Bluff, on his part, admitted that he was tired, but declared it lay along the line of baling out the leaky boat, and not of taking fish.
"Hey! you two fellows in camp, come down here and look, if you want to see a sight good for sore eyes!" called Jerry, as he jumped ashore and commenced to drag the old boat up on the sandy beach.
Accordingly Frank and Will approached to look at the catch, and not only admire but tender their congratulations.
"As fine a mess of bass as I've set eyes on in many a day," announced Frank.
"Hello! see who's coming past the cabin, and heading for us!" exclaimed Will. "There's Mr. Dennison, to begin with, but I don't know the other man."