Hastily catching them up, he ran around the corner of the post-office,
and saw Lee and his followers, some distance up the road.
"Hallo!" he shouted, at the top of his lungs; "Lee Powell!"
But they paid no attention to him.
"I know they heard me," said Frank.
And he shouted again, but with no better success.
At length, one of the village boys, who was coming across the fields,
with a basket of strawberries on his arm, shouted to the Hillers,
and, when he had gained their attention, pointed toward Frank,
"See here!" Frank shouted, as he held up the fish; "you have forgotten
these."
"No, I guess not," shouted Lee, in reply. "We Hillers don't forget
favors as easy as all that comes to. Ye're welcome to 'em."
And he and his companions walked rapidly off.
CHAPTER XI.
Trout-Fishing.
A few days after the events related in the preceding chapter
transpired, Frank, with one or two companions, was standing in the
post-office, waiting for the opening of the mail. The steamer had just
landed, and the passengers which she had brought were slowly walking
toward the hotel, where they intended to take dinner.
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