"I'm sorry! Quite an accident," said Claude, noting the wrath on Kerry's face. "Let me disentangle it."
He jumped into the brown water and, before Kerry could make any objection, was across on the other side, gripping the lines. Without a word the Irishman let him separate the two lines, and then busied himself with fixing a fly. Nettled at this determined silence Claude spoke.
"I wish to speak with you," he said, tapping the other on the shoulder.
"Is it to me ye speak?" replied Kerry, with an admirable look of surprise; "and what has the like of you, sir, to say to me?"
"A great deal. Do you know who I am?"
"Sure, an' I do, sir. The friend of Mr. Tait, you are no less."
"But my name. Do you know it?"
"Bad luck to this stream, there's never a fish in it," grumbled Kerry, with a convenient attack of deafness.
Claude was in nowise angered.
"That is very clever, Kerry," he said; "but——"