"Yes," interrupted Giraffe, "but ain't that already covered when you say
the biggest fish?"

"Not necessarily," Thad told him, "though in some cases the two would go
together, I suppose. But sometimes you'll catch a bass that measures
two inches longer than the one the other fellow got, but when you use
the scales his weighs more by six ounces. How does that come--well,
we've got an illustration right here in you and Bumpus; you call
yourself the larger by nearly a foot, but when it comes--"

Giraffe threw up his hands in token of surrender.

"That's right, Thad," declared Bumpus, "the longest ain't always high
notch. They do say the best goods come in the smallest packages. But
write the conditions down, Thad, while they're fresh in our minds, and
read 'em out. When I come in under the wire first, as I surely will,
it'd grieve me to hear any squealing from our tall friend here, and have
any dispute about not understanding the rules of the game."

Giraffe sniffed scornfully, but did not say anything. However, for a
long time after that both boys busied themselves sorting out the
greatest lot of fishing tackle their chums had seen for an age; showing
that they were in deadly earnest about trying to win the wager.

Bumpus even managed to attach a phantom minnow to the end of a line,
which he slyly dropped overboard when he thought no one was looking, in
hopes of being fortunate enough to get first blood in the competition.
And the others knew that if this thing kept up they were bound to have
plenty of fun in watching the desperate efforts of the rival fishermen.