"I a heap ruther yo' 'd bring the lake over here, where I c'd keep my eye onto you'! Besides, I don't reckon I'd git dispepsy eatin' the fish thet yo' all 'd bring back—Moose Lake's more 'n sixty mile from here! Why don't yo' all go set on the bank o' one o' the branches an' try yo'r luck?"
"I've tried that," grinned Whitey, "and either there aren't any fish worth speaking about, or else they're educated and too foxy to bite."
"Mebbe yo'r worm wasn't tryin' his best," said Bill, solemnly. "The's certain kinds o' worms thet jes' nacher'ly flirts with a fish—sort o' coaxes 'em to cum up an'——"
"Yes, I know all about that," laughed Whitey, "but we haven't time to send our worms to school to teach 'em to flirt. Besides flirting isn't proper, even for a worm. The main thing is—may I go?"
"Well, Son," said Bill, "I reckon yo're yo'r own boss now, ain't yo'?"
"Not entirely," said Whitey. "I'm willing to listen to your advice, anyway."
"Good!" said Bill. "Then I guess yo' don't need none. It's them thet won't take it thet really needs advice. 'Bout how many days yo' call 'a few'?"
"Four or five," said Whitey. "I think that would be long enough."
"Goin' to take a pack-hoss with grub an' stuff—mebbe them Moose Lake fish is eddicated, too? A growin' boy's liable t' git up condider'ble appetite ef he has t' go 'thout eatin' fer four five days! Ef yo' say so, I'll pack up a tin o' biscuit an' mebbe a can o' beans, in case yo' all gits tired of a fish diet."
"That will be fine," said Whitey, "tho', maybe, you better make it two cans of each," he added, laughing. "You know I have quite an appetite at any time—I don't have to fast for four or five days to get one up!"