He recrossed the meadow, and the stepping stones, to the wood. He had noticed a log lying in the path as he descended the hillside. With the toe of his boot he kicked a patch of bark from the log, and thereby lay bare the wavering trail of a busy grub. Following the trail he quickly found the fat, juicy insect, which immediately took the earthworm's place upon the hook. Again Henry cast and this time, before the grub even touched the surface of the pool, the fish leaped and swallowed the tempting morsel, hook and all! There was no playing of the fish on Henry's part. A quick jerk and the gasping spotted beauty, a pound and a quarter, or more, in weight, lay upon the sward beside the crackling fire. “Whoop-ee!” called Henry, excitedly. “That's Number One!” While Hiram dexterously scaled and cleaned the first trout, Henry caught a couple more. Hiram brought forth, too, the coffee, salt and pepper, sugar, a piece of fat salt pork and two table knives and forks. He raked a smooth bed in the glowing coals, sliced the pork thin, laid some slices in the pan and set that upon the coals, where the pork began to sputter almost at once. The water in the kettle was boiling and he made the coffee. Then he laid the trout upon the pan with three slices of pork upon each, and sat back upon his haunches beside Henry enjoying the delicious odor in anticipation of the more solid delights of breakfast. They had hard crackers and with these, and drinking the coffee from the kettle itself, when it was cool enough, the two boys feasted like monarchs. “By Jo!” exclaimed Henry. “This beats maw's soda biscuit and fat meat gravy!” But as he ate, Hiram's gaze traveled again and again across the scrub-grown meadow. The lay of the land pleased him. The richness of the soil had been revealed when they dug the earthworm. For thousands of years the riches of yonder hillside had been washing down upon the bottom, and this alluvial was rich beyond computation. Here were several acres, the young farmer knew, which, however over-cropped the remainder of Uncle Jeptha's land had been, could not be impoverished in many seasons. “It's as rich as cream!” muttered he, thoughtfully. “Grubbing out these young pines wouldn't take long. There's a heavy sod and it would have to be ploughed deeply. Then a crop of corn this year, perhaps--late corn for fear the river might overflow it in June. And then---- “Great Scot!” ejaculated Hiram, slapping his knee, “what wouldn't grow on this bottom land?” “Yes, it's mighty rich,” agreed Henry. “But it's a long way from the house--and then, the river might flood it over. I've seen water running over this bottom two feet deep--once.” They finished the al fresco meal and Hiram leaped up, inspired by his thoughts to brisker movements. “Whatever else this old farm has on it, I vow and declare,” he said, “this five or six acres alone might be made to pay a profit on the whole investment!” CHAPTER IX. THE BARGAIN IS MADE