The Man from Bar-20
"Yes; 'tain't more'n a mile from th' ford!"
"I found 'em up there, hidin' in a bush."
"Reckon you think that's funny," grunted Pop. "Why them's brook trout! I ain't had any since I was a boy. Th' devil with business! I'm goin' fishin' one day a week. Now where you goin'?"
"Got some for Charley," laughed Johnny from the door.
Charley looked up from his eternal solitaire: "Hello, Nelson!"
"Look what I got," exulted Johnny, extending the bag.
"God help us!" exclaimed Charley. "Did you—did you—"
"I did. Brook trout, Pop says. Prospectin' ain't nothin' compared to fishin'. Pop's goin' one day a week, an' after you eat these mebby you'll be with him."
"Pop can't put on no airs with me," chuckled Charley. "If he can afford to close up, so can I. But you shouldn't 'a' poked no bulgin' gold sack at me like that! It was a shock. Come on; let's take somethin' for it." He grabbed the fish and led the way across the street; and for the rest of the afternoon three happy men discussed prospecting and trout fishing, but the latter was by far the more important.
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