"It would be the joke of the season--if a woman caught him." "Bet you couldn't land him," chuckled Baumberger, breathing a sigh which might have been relief, and ambled away contentedly.

"I may not see you folks again till supper," he bethought him to call back.

"I'm going to catch a dozen more--and then I thought I'd take 'em up to Pete Hamilton; I'm using his horse, yuh see, and--" He flung out a hand to round off the sentence, turned, and went stumbling over a particularly rocky place.
Miss Georgie stood where she was, and watched him with her mouth twisted to one side and three perpendicular creases between her eyebrows.

When he was out of sight, she glanced at Evadna--once more perched sulkily upon the rock.
"Head still bad, chicken ?" she inquired cheerfully.

"Better stay here in the shade--I won't be gone long." "I'm going to fish," said Evadna, but she did not stir, not even when Miss Georgie went on, convoyed by all the Hart boys.
Good Indian had volunteered the information that he was going to fish downstream, but he was a long time in tying his leader and fussing with his reel.