However, if you can't catch any, you might go up to the road and watch for Mr.Mulligan.

He sometimes comes along on Mondays." "I'm not going to the road to watch for any fish-man," I replied, a little more testily than I should have spoken.

"What sort of a camping out would that be?
But we must not be talking here or I shall never get a bite.

Those fish are a little soiled from jumping about in the dust.
You might wash them off at that shallow place, while I go a little further on and try my luck." I went a short distance up the creek, and threw my line into a dark, shadowy pool, under some alders, where there certainly should be fish.
And, sure enough, in less than a minute I got a splendid bite,--not only a bite, but a pull.

I knew that I had certainly hooked a big fish! The thing actually tugged at my line so that I was afraid the pole would break.