"Seven in half an hour." Patty began using her paddle.
"Finest sport in the world!" Warrington settled down on the cushion and leisurely watched the brown arms of his guide.
"You're a good fisherman. And I like to see a good fisherman get excited. John is like a statue when he gets a strike; he reels them in like a machine. He becomes angry if any one talks. But it's fun to watch Kate. She nearly falls out of the boat, and screams when the bass leaps. Isn't it beautiful?"
"It is a kind of Eden. But I'm so restless. I have to be wandering from place to place. If I owned your bungalow, I should sell it the second year. All the charm would go the first season. God has made so many beautiful places in this world for man that man is the only ungrateful creature in it. What's that smoke in the distance?"
"That's the mail-boat, with your newspaper. It will be two hours yet before it reaches our dock. It has to zigzag to and fro across the lake. I'm hungry."
"So am I. Let me take the paddle."
The exchange was made, and he sent the canoe over the water rapidly. Patty eyed him with frank admiration.
"Is there anything you can't do well?"
"A good many things," he acknowledged.
"I should like to know what they are."