look! There he
goes again. Did you fellows see him?"

"There isn't any four pound fish in water that can give me a fight,"
Danny Grin asserted solemnly. "I'd be ashamed to talk about having
a fight with a four pound fish. It looks small and mean to me."

"Well, go after some bass, if they're so easy to catch," urged
Greg. "I'll look on and see if you've over estimated your ability
as a fisherman."

"You're a fine fisherman, aren't you?" demanded Tom scornfully.

"No fisherman at all," Holmes promptly confessed.

"If you knew the A-B-C of fishing," Reade continued, "you'd know
that one must have a boat in order to go after bass."

"Don't they ever come near enough to shore to be caught without
the aid of a boat?" Danny Grin demanded.

Tom snorted.

"Tell me," insisted Dalzell.

"You're stringing me," protested Tom.

"No; I'm after information," Dan asserted.

"If you really don't know," Tom resumed, "I'll tell you that
black bass are generally caught only by trolling for them. That
is, if I fish for bass I've got to keep playing my line over the
stern while someone else rows the boat."

"You've a positive genius for picking out the easy half of the
job," Danny Grin murmured admiringly.

"The trolling part of the job merely looks easy," Tom went on,
good-humoredly. "The fellow who is doing the fisherman act must
have all the brains, while the fellow at the oars may be a real
dolt, for all he has to know. I'll take you out with me after
black bass, Danny, if we can get hold of a boat one of these days."

"Who'll do the rowing?" asked Dalzell suspiciously.

"Naturally you will," was Reade's answer.

"Can't we find a boat somewhere about here?" asked Hazelton eagerly.

"I haven't seen one on any part of the lake that is visible from
here," Prescott put in. "I don't know why, but this so called
second lake doesn't seem to be a popular spot. There isn't a
house to be seen anywhere along the shore on either side, and
I doubt if there's a boat on this sheet of water."

"I don't believe there is a boat, either---and just look at that!"
cried Reade, as three distinct splashes about an eighth of a mile
out showed how frequently the bass were leaping.

"It's tough---not to have a chance at good sport!" declared Dave
Darrin impatiently. "We fellows ought to search this old shore,
anyway, to see if we can't find some sort of craft."

"Come along, then!" urged Tom, leaping to his feet. "I can't