"No, no! There he goes, Jim! Look, isn't he a big one?"
"A very fine goose, but not nearly so plump and nice as the one we have here."
Nan looked puzzled a moment, blushed and sat down.
"Jim, I think you're awfully mean. He was going the other way when I saw him. I didn't scare him. You know I didn't."
"Certainly not!" was the scornful answer. "He just turned around and went back to pick up a feather he dropped. He'll call again some day."
Nan peeped around to see if he were angry, deliberately rose, turned and sat down on the bow of the boat facing Stuart, smiling at him, mischievously.
"Let's not shoot to-day, Jim!" she pleaded.
"We won't," he answered, dryly.
"You know I think this blind is such a cute little house, with the blue sky above and the still, beautiful waters stretching away into the mists around us; isn't it?"
"Dangerously beautiful to mere mortals, I'm afraid, Nan!" he answered soberly.