Again the nouveau worked his rod, whipping its point to the water fore and aft. Flies and leader clawed over the back of Silas Strong, fetching his hat off. Before he could recover, the young man went into action. Strong ducked in time to save an ear, splashing his paddle again to keep the canoe on its bottom. The tail-fly had caught above his elbow. When Strong tried to loosen its hold the young man was tugging at the line. Strong endeavored to speak, but somehow the words wouldn't come. Suddenly the other rod came back with a powerful swing and smote him on the top of his head.
He had been trying to say "See here," but his tongue had halted on the s. Then he took a new tack, as it were, and tried a phrase which began with the letter g, and had fair success with it.
Both Migleys gave a start of surprise. The Emperor waited to recover self-control and felt a touch of remorse.
"Le' me c-climb a t-tree," he suggested, presently.
The elder Migley burst into loud laughter.
"Stop fooling!" said the young man. "I'd like to get some fish."
He swung his rod, and was again tugging at the shirt-sleeve of the Emperor.
Strong blew as he clung to the leader.
"C-cast c-crossways," he commanded, with a gesture.
The fishermen rested a moment. A hundred feet or so below them Strong saw a squirrel crossing the still water. Suddenly there was a movement behind him, and he sank out of sight. In half a moment he rose again, swimming with frantic haste to reach a clump of alder branches. Strong knew the mysterious villain of this little drama of the river, but said not a word of what he had seen.