Charley rubbed his head reflectively. "I think mebby I got some; don't remember throwin' 'em away. There was some with feathers, an' some without; plain hooks, an' flies. Brought 'em with me when I first came out here, an' never used 'em. Ought to have some line, too; an' a reel somewheres. I'll hunt 'em up an' put 'em with yore duffle. You can cut yoreself a pole. They'll be a little present from me." "Thank you," beamed Johnny, and forthwith Pop dragged them to his place of business. Johnny left the following morning, and one week later he returned, trudging along beside his loaded horse, and he was the owner of a generous amount of gold, the treasure of a "pocket" upon which he had blundered. He determined to keep this a secret, for if he let it be known that he had found "color," what excuse could he offer for leaving that field? It fit too well into his plans to be revealed. Pop grinned a welcome: "Have any luck?" "Fishin', yes," laughed Johnny. "Bet I moved ten acres of gravel. I wasted a week; now I'm goin' north." Pop frowned. "I reckon you'll have yore own way; but put in yore time fishin' an' prospectin', an' mind yore own business." "Shore," said Johnny. "Look here," unrolling a bundle and producing two of the gold sacks, which were heavy and bulging. Pop stared, speechless, until his new friend opened one of them and dumped four dressed trout on the bar. "Slip 'em in a fryin' pan with some bacon," grinned Johnny. "Get 'em in th' river?" demanded Pop incredulously. "You know that draw runnin' east from th' Gap--th' one with them two dead pines leanin' against each other?" "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. CHAPTER V PREPARATIONS The next morning Johnny said good-bye to Pop and walked by Pepper's side, watching the big pack on her back, while Pop, shaking his head, entered his place of business and forthwith began work on a crude sign which, one day a week, would hang on his locked front door.