“Never mind the work part of it,” returned Andy. “This rain will do a world of good. Before harvest time you will probably be praying for a third as much of a downpour. We’ll find enough to do, don’t worry. What do you say to going fishing?”
“I say ‘no,’” replied Phil. “If you are not going to do anything about our claim, I’m going over to see Mr. Jay.”
At this announcement the others laughed heartily.
“I must think before I act,” said Andy.
“Mr. Jay doesn’t care any more about seeing you than you do about seeing him. If I were going to shirk all the chores, I’d at least tell the truth,” grinned his brother. But Phil had fled from the water-soaked shakedown at the first words.
“You going too?” inquired Andy.
“Not much. If my letter paper isn’t wet, I shall write home. If it is, I may ride over and give Jennie another lesson.”
“You boys aren’t very keen on fishing, evidently,” commented Andy, as he overhauled his tackle.
“I never caught but two fish in my life. One was a ‘pumpkin seed’ and the other was a smelt. It took me four days to get them and I must have tramped thirty miles.”
“You’ll find it’s different out here. If you followed this brook thirty miles—which you can’t because it’s only about ten from source to lake—you’d have more fish than you could carry. Better come.”