“A sprinklin’, but nobody wants them,” Jim volunteered.
“Exclusive community. What do you do with strangers?”
“Leave ’em alone. There’s a colony further up. Summer people, most from cities, come every year.”
“Same ones all the time?”
“Sure. Fellow who owns the land won’t let ’em bring outsiders,” the boy explained taking a chair. “Enjoy your dinner?”
“Fine. Ever have any southern people—”
“Few,” Jim admitted.
“Chap I know and his nephew came around here for the fishing. He liked the place. Perhaps you know him.”
“How long has he been coming?” Jim asked.
“I understand last fall was the first time, come to think of it.”