“Then,” she said, “you must never tie any but your own things.”
“Then,” he reflected, “anything that I wish to tie hard, I must first own.”
But he didn’t own the rod, so she tied that herself. As they rose to go Carl approached.
“Hello,” he called, “fishing?”
“No,” answered Barnes, “hunting.”
CHAPTER XI
ON ADVENTURING
Carl was asked to supper and Mr. Van Patten insisted that the prize should be cooked for the guest. The king trout was avenged for his fate. Yet there could be no denying that he made a pretty dish. Through the crackling skin, thin as gold-leaf, the scarlet speckles still showed, so that, garnished with parsley as he was, he looked as content upon the platter as though he were still nosing through water-cress in his native element.
Carl was placed opposite Miss Van Patten, and Barnes was thus left to face Aunt Philomela.
“I trust your accounts balanced,” he ventured to inquire of her.
“Within a peck of potatoes,” answered Aunt Philomela indifferently.