Part 6 (1/2)
CHAPTER III
THE FISHERMAN
From a little green book, which, from the evidence of its worn covers, seemed to have been much read, the tall, military-appearing occupant of a middle seat in the parlor car of the express to Colchester scanned again this pa.s.sage:
”And if you rove for perch with a minnow, then it is best to be alive, you sticking your hook through his back fin, or a minnow with the hook in his upper lip, and letting him swim up and down about mid-water, or a little lower, and you still keeping him about that depth with a cork, which ought to be a very little one; and the way you are to fish for perch with a small frog--”
”Ah-a-a-a!”
It was a long-drawn exclamation of antic.i.p.atory delight, and into the eyes of the military-looking traveler there appeared a soft and gentle light, as though, in fancy, he could look off across sunlit meadows to a stream sparkling beneath a blue sky, white-studded with fleecy clouds, where there was a soft carpet of green gra.s.s, shaded by a n.o.ble oak under which he might lounge and listen to the wind rustling the newly-born leaves.
”Ah-a-a-a!”
”Beg pardon, sir, but I--”
”What?”
The military-appearing man sat up with a jerk into sudden stiffness, while the soft light died out of his eyes.
”New York papers?”
”Don't want the New York papers--any of them!”
The man, after a swift glance from his green-covered book, again let his eyes seek its pages. The ghost of a smile flickered around his lips.
”Chicago, then. The latest--”
”. . . your hook being fastened through the skin of his leg, toward the upper part of it; and lastly I will give you--”
”Something livelier in the way of reading, sir, if you wish it!” broke in the voice of the newsboy who had stopped beside the parlor-car chair of the military-looking traveler, interrupting the reading of the little green-covered book. ”I have a new detective story--”
”Look here! If you interrupt me again when I'm reading my Izaak Walton I'll have you put off the train! Gad! I will, sir, if I have to do it myself!”
The military-appearing traveler snapped the green book against the palm of one hand with a report like that of a pistol, thereby causing an old lady, asleep in a chair across the aisle, to awaken with a start.
”Are we in? Have we arrived? Is this Colchester?” she asked, sitting up and looking about in startled surprise, her bonnet very much askew.
The newsboy, with an abashed air, slid down the aisle.
”Madam, I sincerely beg your pardon,” said the tall man who had caused the commotion. He arose, his green book in one hand, and bowed his apologies. ”I regret exceedingly that I startled you. But that insufferable young puppy had the extreme audacity to inflict himself on me when I was reading, and I lost my temper. I am sorry but I--”
”You didn't strike him, did you?” asked the old lady, reproachfully.
”No, madam. Though such conduct would have been justified on my part, I merely spoke to him. It was this--this book that I used rather roughly and which awakened you.”
”Then aren't we at Colchester yet?”
”No, madam. It is some little ride yet. If you will allow me I shall be happy to let you know when we arrive. And if you are without any one to help you off with your luggage, as it is raining and likely to continue--”
”Oh, thank you, sir, but Jabez will meet me. I must have dozed off, and when I heard that noise--”