82 AN ANGLER'S SEASON 



the pull of the line was not direct ! The 

 gut was over a twig. It was speedily 

 sawn in twain. 



" Ah ! thank you," I said to the pallid 

 youth: "that's all right." 



It seemed unnecessary to tell him that 

 a salmon had come and gone. Indeed, 

 telling him might have confirmed his 

 impression that he was in odd company. 

 Instead, I drew his attention to the trout 

 in my basket, lying on the bank. The 

 sight of them neither wrought any change 

 upon his countenance nor induced him to 

 speak. Having looked at the trout for a 

 moment and then at myself for several 

 moments, he went off through the wood, 

 slowly for a few yards, and then with 

 long and rapid strides. Obviously his 

 belief was that he had chanced upon a 

 person who was "not all there." 



At least once before 1 had been under 

 the same suspicion ; but then I had been 

 cleared. That was in Wales. 



