"I've got more'n I want," he said.
"Thanks," said the girl, and added, "Say, Tim, I'll tell you something. I saw four trout in the brook this morning, and one of them was that long."
She measured with her hands, held a little more than a foot apart.
"Where was it—about a mile above your house?" queried Tim.
The girl nodded.
"In the pool where the big tree's fallen across," she said.
"I guess he's the big one I've tried to get, a lot of times," said Tim. "But I haven't seen him lately. I thought he'd gone down into Ellison's pool. I'd like to see him."
He was a fisherman by nature, was Little Tim, and the very mention of the big trout made his eyes twinkle.
"Come on up," said Bess Thornton.
Tim hesitated. "It's most too late," he replied. "I'll be late to supper now, if I don't run."