"He’ll pitch on us next time, just the same," he declared. "Why didn’t you punch him when you had him down, Bob?"
"Aw, come on!" said his chum. "Always wanting to get into a fight. You keep that up when you get to Rockledge School, and you’ll be in hot water all the time."
"Shucks!" grinned Fred. "I’d like to be in _cold_ water right now. The swimming hole isn’t far away. Let’s."
"We can’t go in but once—you know we can’t," said Bobby.
"Because we promised our mothers we wouldn’t go in but once a day this vacation."
"Huh! That ain’t saying but what we can take off our clothes and put on our swimming trunks, and stay in all day long."
"That would be just as dishonest as going in two or three times, Fred," exclaimed Bobby. "And you wouldn’t do it. Besides," he added, grinning; "you know you tried that _last_ summer, and ’member what you got for it?"
"You bet you!" exclaimed the red-haired one. "I got sunburned something fierce! No. I won’t do _that_ again. That’s the day we built the raft on Sanders’ Pond, and oh, how I hurt! I guess I do remember, all right."
"No," said Bobby, after a minute. "We’ll go fishing first, and then take a swim before we go home. That’ll clean us up, and make us feel fresh. There’s that old stump again, Fred. I believe there’s a big trout lives under that stump. Don’t you ’member! We’ve seen him jump."
"Ya-as," scoffed Fred. "But that old fellow won’t jump for a worm. He’s had too many square meals this summer, don’t you know? It’ll take a fancy fly, like those my Uncle Jim uses when he goes fishing, to coax Mr. Trout out of the creek."
"I’m going to try," said Bobby, who could be obstinate in his opinion.
"I’ll be satisfied if I catch a shiner," declared Fred. "I’ll try off that rock yonder. Come on! There’s a couple of dandy fishpoles."
Like real country boys, Bobby and Fred cut poles each time they went fishing. No need to carry them back and forth to their homes in Clinton and it did not take five minutes to cut and rig these poles.
"What nice, fat worms," said Bobby, when Fred shook up the tomato can.
"That’s what the robin said," chuckled Fred. "Know what my sister, Betty, said yesterday morning? You know it rained the night before and the robins were picking up worms on the lawn right early—before breakfast.