“All right, I'll be ready in a minute.”
The little girl followed Hale out on the porch and stood with her back against the railing.
“Did you catch it?” he asked. She nodded, unsmiling.
“I'm sorry. What were you doing up there?” She showed no surprise that he knew that she had been up there, and while she answered his question, he could see that she was thinking of something else.
“I'd heerd so much about what you furriners was a-doin' over thar.”
“You must have heard about a place farther over—but it's coming over there, too, some day.” And still she looked an unspoken question.
The fish that Hale had caught was lying where he had left it on the edge of the porch.
“That's for you, June,” he said, pointing to it, and the name as he spoke it was sweet to his ears.
“I'm much obleeged,” she said, shyly. “I'd 'a' cooked hit fer ye if I'd 'a' knowed you wasn't goin' to take hit home.”
“That's the reason I didn't give it to you at first—I was afraid you'd do that. I wanted you to have it.”