Carlia counted. "Twelve," she said.
"All right. This is a small stream and will only allow for three rows at a time. Three into twelve is four, and four times fifteen is sixty. It is now half past ten. We'll get through by twelve o'clock easy."
"You'd better go home. I'm all right now. I'm not afraid."
"I said we will get home. Sit down here on the bank. Are you cold?" He took off his coat and placed it about her shoulders. She made no objections, though in truth she was not cold.
"Tell me about the party," she said.
He told her who were there, and how they had missed her.
"And did Uncle Zed preach?"
"Preach? O, yes, he talked mighty fine. I wish I could tell you what he said."
"What was it about?"
"About God," he answered reverently.