Early the next morning they started for the river. As usual Jimmy
led the way. He proudly carried his new rod. Dannie followed with
a basket of lunch Mary had insisted on packing, his big cane
pole, a can of worms, and a shovel, in case they ran out of bait.
Dannie had recovered his temper, and was just great-hearted, big
Dannie again. He talked about the south wind, and shivered with
the frost, and listened for the splash of the Bass. Jimmy had
little to say. He seemed to be thinking deeply. No doubt he felt
in his soul that they should settle the question of who landed
the Bass with the same rods they had used when the contest was
proposed, and that was not all.
When they came to the temporary bridge, Jimmy started across it,
and Dannie called to him to wait, he was forgetting his worms.
"I don't want any worms," answered Jimmy briefly. He walked on.
Dannie stood staring after him, for he did not understand that.
Then he went slowly to his side of the river, and deposited his
load under a tree where it would be out of the way.
He lay down his pole, took a rude wooden spool of heavy fish cord
from his pocket, and passed the line through the loop next the
handle and so on the length of the rod to the point. Then he
wired on a sharp bass hook, and wound the wire far up the doubled
line.
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