"The pie?" repeated Dr. Cardyke. "That's what I'm doing. Why do you ask?"
"We'll have to hoist the S.O.S. signal if you carry on," said Tressidar, laughing. "Already you've dropped a fish-hook into the gravy, and it looks as if there are more to follow."
"A good excuse to remove my coat," rejoined the doctor good-humouredly. "It certainly is hot for this time of year."
According to the custom adopted by freshwater fishermen, Dr. Cardyke had stuck his spare hooks in the sleeve of his coat, and one of them, being insufficiently held by the barb, had fallen into the pie-dish.
After lunch the young officers and their fair companions sauntered off, while Greenwood senior and the doctor had "forty winks," followed by another bout of friendly rivalry by the trout stream.
"By Jove, Doris, isn't this simply great?" exclaimed Tressidar enthusiastically, as the pair gained the top of a rugged tor. "Just look at the expanse of country. Looks a bit misty down in the valleys, though. I hope it won't get too thick. Say, do you mind if I get a pipe under way?"
The rest of the afternoon passed only too quickly. The slanting rays of the sun cast long shadows athwart the gorse as they made their way back to the spot that the sub. had termed the rendezvous. By this time the mist was rising from the low-lying ground and creeping slowly up the hillsides, until the tors looked like islands in a sea of slowly drifting fog.
"It will be pretty thick lower down," declared Eric during the course of tea. "Driving through the mist is jolly tricky."
"Pooh!" exclaimed Dr. Cardyke. "Not with reasonable care. We'll shake it off before we get to Bovey Tracey."
It was not long before the doctor found that very considerable caution was necessary, for the fog was so dense that it was hardly possible to distinguish the narrow road from the rest of the moor.