Off he goes again--take care for the unexpected slack. Another
leap, like a bronze flame, and then a dash for the shallow bottom. He
fought gallantly for his life and freedom. Patty reached for the net.
Inch by inch Warrington drew him in. Twice he leaped over the net, but
Patty was an old hand. The third effort landed him.
"Two pounds," said Patty. "Plenty for breakfast now."
"Tell you what, this is sport. How many have we?"
"Seven in half an hour." Patty began using her paddle.
"Finest sport in the world!" Warrington settled down on the cushion
and leisurely watched the brown arms of his guide.
"You're a good fisherman. And I like to see a good fisherman get
excited. John is like a statue when he gets a strike; he reels them in
like a machine. He becomes angry if any one talks. But it's fun to
watch Kate. She nearly falls out of the boat, and screams when the
bass leaps. Isn't it beautiful?"
"It is a kind of Eden. But I'm so restless. I have to be wandering
from place to place. If I owned your bungalow, I should sell it the
second year. All the charm would go the first season.
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