“Do you think we had better fish,” asked Roderick, whimsically, “or talk this matter over?”
Gail looked very demure and very determined.
“You go right on with your fishing and do as I do, Mr. Roderick Warfield. Remember, I’m the teacher.” She stamped her little booted foot, and then waded into the water and cast her fly far down stream. “See how I cast my line.”
“You know a whole lot about fishing, don’t you?” asked Roderick.
“Oh, yes, I ought to. During occasional summer visits to the ranch I have fished in these waters ever so many times. You must not talk too much,” she added in a lower voice. “Trout are very alert, you know.”
“If fish could hear as well as see
Never a fish would there be—
in our baskets.” And she laughed softly at this admonition for Roderick to fish and cease badinage.
“Which way is the wind?” asked Roderick.
“There is none,” replied Gail.