'Tricksy, keep your dog quiet, he'll frighten away the trout,' sang out Allan warningly; and Tricksy requested Laddie to 'trust.'
The sun shone down upon green grass and brown pools, and drew out the perfume of the flowers and heather. Not far distant was the pleasant noise of the sea, and the calling of the gulls answered the plaintive cry of the plovers which fluttered about the moor and the meadows.
The day was too bright, and the trout which could be seen at the bottom of the pools refused to take. After a little while the strong fresh air and sun began to have a drowsy effect upon the anglers.
Gerald rubbed his eyes once or twice, and stifled a yawn; and Tricksy found that he was disinclined for conversation.
'Hulloa!' cried a voice from the top of a ridge; and Marjorie and Hamish came racing down. Laddie's welcoming bark roused Gerald, who jumped into a sitting posture, and looked about him in a surprised way.
'Hulloa, Marjorie,' said Allan; 'glad you've come. This is Harry Graham, and this is Gerald.'
Marjorie looked at the new-comers with approval, and Hamish shook hands good-naturedly.
'Are we going to fish all afternoon,' said Marjorie, 'or shall we take a scramble?'
'A scramble,' replied Reggie; 'they want to see the rocks.'
'If Gerald isn't too tired,' put in Tricksy considerately; 'he was asleep a minute ago.'