It had promised rain nearly all day, which had been a rather hot, muggy one; but, as it seemed to be the finest fishing day they had enjoyed all season, both boys had taken chances in coming out. There were times when the stock of provisions ran rather low at home, since the crops were only getting their early summer growth, and fresh fish would always be acceptable among the Armstrongs. Roger had so much trouble with his latest capture that Dick brought his to the boat before his cousin could. Perhaps this was because he went about his task with deliberation; while the other lad, in his eagerness, allowed the heavy fish to drag the line out several times, on account of not being prepared for his sudden rushes. This fact is only mentioned in a casual way to let the reader understand thus early in the story what the different natures of our two heroes were; for doubtless there will occur many instances when these leading characteristics must stand out most prominently. "That makes two of the five, Dick!" gasped Roger, as he managed to unhook his capture, and, after once more baiting his stout hook, cast it far out into the rolling stream for a fresh trial. "Yes," replied the other, who had already allowed his own line to run out to its full limit; "and, if they keep on taking hold as they have been doing, we'll soon have the other three in the dugout. But you never can tell with fish. They stop biting all of a sudden, and nothing you can do will tempt them to start in again." "There comes another big one, Dick! Oh! isn't it too mean, he just gave a terrible plunge, and broke away. That's bad luck, I'm afraid," exclaimed the younger of the fishers, in a disappointed tone. "And I suppose he was the biggest of the whole lot?" the other remarked with a laugh. "There, something's at my bait again!" ejaculated Roger, eagerly. "Don't I hope he swallows it, hook and all!" He braced himself for the tug, having learned what tremendous pullers these so-called buffalo fish of the rivers could be, when they had the whole force of the current back of their efforts. A few seconds later his line gave a sudden jerk. "Hurrah! I've got my second one, and that makes three!" he whooped gleefully, as he started to pull in hand over hand, for they were not fishing with poles, and such things as reels were unknown among the early settlers of the West. Half way did Roger drag his expected prize in, when he uttered a dismal cry. "He's gone, Dick, worse luck!" he exclaimed in a disappointed tone. "Perhaps there's something wrong with the barb of my hook, they seem to get off so easy of late; I'd better be looking after it. Anyhow, the bait must be gone, and I never yet caught a fish with a bare hook. Hope you have better luck with yours," as Dick started pulling his line in, with something that wriggled tremendously at the other end.