"Well, I want to float over, slow and silent, so I can throw a fly right under those bushes."
"You'll get caught in 'em."
"I'll risk that."
He sat down on the front seat, and Charley rowed him over as if he were afraid of making a ripple on the water. He and Jeff were almost holding their breath with excitement over what their fat friend meant to do.
"That's it. Let her float."
The light graceful rod swung back, a remarkable length of very fine line went floating through the air, and the boys could see something like a small dragon-fly at the end of it.
"No sinker, Jeff," whispered Charley.
"It's just lit on the water."
It was a beautiful cast, and the fly fell at the very edge of the bushes, on a dark and shady spot of water with a small eddy in it.
Splash!