“Wait,” I heard a surprisingly meek voice entreat. “I thought you was going to get me a place with the lady as has bought Russell’s old place. Have you forgotten, Mr. Dale?”
I rested on my paddle. “Oh, no,” I said, airily, “I have not forgotten!”
“I believe you’ve been hunting for the opening in the willows and haven’t been able to find it, either! And here was I hoping you could help me! I been looking for it for an hour. I was going to see this woman at Hidden Lake, myself. After a while when I get to a slack time with my peddling I may take the place with her.”
There was a brief silence. I felt her searching eyes on my face.
“To be sure,” I said then, “I can find the tricksy aperture that leads to the narrow water route that runs between this river and Hidden Lake—”
Wanza interrupted me with an impish laugh.
“It sounds like that nursery rhyme you say to Joey.”
“Yes,” I went on with the air of weighing the matter, “I can find the opening very easily, I dare say, when I come to look for it.”
Her eyes grew grave. She favored me with a ruminative glance. Presently she said:
“Well, go ahead—find the tricksy aperture! I’m waiting.”