"Do you," he said presently, "swim as well as you row?"
She stopped rowing; she laughed right out.
"Just about," she said.
"Good," he said seriously, "because I'm a dub at it, and in case of an upset, I look to you."
"The truth," said Phyllis, "is that there's no place to swim to. It's all swamp in here."
"True," said Herring; "we would have to cling to the boat and call upon Heaven to aid us."
One of Herring's flies, trailing in the water, proved, at this moment, overwhelmingly attractive to a young and unsophisticated trout.
Herring shouted with the triumph of a schoolboy, "I've got one," and sprang to his feet.
"Please sit down!" said Phyllis. "We almost went that time."