Just then she turned about to look at him and say, as a rare smile played about her lips, “Oh! You in swimming too?”
To measure Johnny’s emotions at that moment would be impossible. The girl was beautiful. But the witch? Why had she screamed? Had she meant to deceive him? And his fish? Gone of course. Even a Tennessee shad could loose himself from a drifting pole like that.
“No,” he said, speaking slowly. “I’m not in swimming. I fell in, same as you did.”
“But I didn’t fall in,” the girl shook the water from her hair. “I jumped in.”
“And do you always scream like that when you dive?” Johnny was puzzled and angry.
“Nearly always.” The girl sat down upon a rock in the bright sunshine. “There’s some sort of bird that screams before he dives. I like it.”
“And I suppose,” Johnny said mockingly, “that you always go in clothes and all?”
“Always,” she said soberly. “It wouldn’t be quite decent not to unless you have a bathing suit. And I haven’t one. I’ve asked Dad to buy me one many times but he always forgets.”
“Who’s Dad?” Johnny asked quickly.
“Dad is Colonel Crider. I’m Jensie Crider. Now please,” there was a friendly note in her voice, “stop being ugly. Come on out in the sun. We’ll be all dry in a half hour. I want you to tell me about a lot of things.”