green leaves across her hand, carefully picking out the white buds, because Elnora liked them, when a splash up the creek attracted her attention.
Around the bend came a man. He was bareheaded, dressed in a white sweater, and waders which reached his waist. He kept on the bank, only entering the water when necessary. He had a queer basket strapped on his hip, and with a small rod he sent a long line spinning before him down the creek, deftly manipulating with it a little floating object. He was nearer Elnora than her mother, but Mrs. Comstock thought possibly by hurrying she could remain unseen and yet warn the girl that a stranger was coming. Thrusting the greens into the pail she ran down the creek bank. As she neared the bridge, she caught a sapling and leaned over the water to call Elnora. With her lips parted to speak, she hesitated a second to watch a sort of insect that flashed past on the water, when a splash from the man attracted the girl.
She was under the bridge, one knee planted in the embankment and a foot braced to support her. Her hair was tousled by wind and bushes, her face flushed, and she lifted her arms above her head, working to loosen a cocoon she had found. The call Mrs. Comstock had intended to utter never found voice, for as Elnora looked down at the sound, "Possibly I could get that for you," suggested the man.
Mrs. Comstock drew back. He was a young man with a wonderfully attractive face, although it was too
