At last we turned the boat round and went home, the
fish swimming alongside, with its mouth open.
And there Aggie, who is occasionally almost inspired,
landed the fish by the simple expedient of getting
out of the boat, taking the line up a bank and wrapping
it round a tree. By all pulling together we landed
the fish successfully. It was forty-nine inches
by Tish’s tape measure.
Tish did not sleep well that night. She dreamed
that the fish had a red mustache and was a spy in
disguise. When she woke she declared there was
somebody prowling round the tent.
She got her shotgun and we all sat up in bed for an
hour or so.
Nothing happened, however, except that Aggie cried
out that there was a small animal just inside the
door of the tent. We could see it, too, though
faintly. Tish turned the shotgun on it and it
disappeared; but the next morning she found she had
shot one of her shoes to pieces.
It was the day Tish began her diary that we discovered
the red-haired man’s signal. Tish was compelled
to remain at home most of the day, breaking in another
pair of shoes, and she amused herself by watching
the river and writing down interesting things.
She had read somewhere of the value of such records
of impressions:—
10 A.M. Gull on rock. Very pretty.
Frightened away by the McDonald
person, who has just taken up his customary
position. Is he reading
or watching this camp?
10.22. Detective is breakfasting—through
glasses, he is eating canned
corn. Aggie—pickerel,
from bank.
10.40. Aggie’s cat, beside
her, has caught a small fish. Aggie declares
that the cat stole one of her worms and
held it in the water. I think
she is mistaken.
11. Most extraordinary thing—Hutchins
has asked permission to take pen
and ink across to the detective!
Have consented.
11.20. Hutchins is still across the
river. If I did not know differently
I should say she and the detective are
quarreling. He is whittling
something. Through glasses, she appears
to stamp her foot.
11.30. Aggie has captured a small
sunfish. Hutchins is still across the
river. He seems to be appealing to
her for something—possibly the
underwear. We have none to spare.
11.40. Hutchins is an extraordinary
girl. She hates men, evidently. She has
had some sort of quarrel with the detective and has
returned flushed with battle. Mr. McDonald
called to her as she passed, but she ignored him.
12, noon. Really, there is something
mysterious about all this. The detective was
evidently whittling a flagpole. He has erected
it now, with a red silk handkerchief at end.
It hangs out over the water. Aggie—bass,
but under legal size.
1.15 P.M. The flag puzzles Hutchins.
She is covertly watching it. It is
evidently a signal—but to whom?
Are the secret-service men closing in
on McDonald?
