CHAPTER VI. BY A QUIET STREAM
Drooping willows dipped their pendant branches in the stream that foamedand rippled over green, mossy stones. In a meadow that stretched fairand wide on either side of the water, innumerable grasshoppers weresinging their song of summer. On a verdant bank reclined a man, whoseadvanced age might be indicated in his whitening locks, but whose brighteyes, and the quick, nervous movements as he leafed the pages of asmall, green-covered book, made negative the first analysis. A littledistance from him, where the sun beat down warmly, unhindered by anyshade, lolled a colored man whose look now and then strayed to thereading figure.
A glance over the shoulder of the reader, were one so impolite as totake that liberty, would have disclosed, among others, this passage onthe printed page:
"But yet you are to note, that as you see some willows or palm trees bud and blossom sooner than others do, so some trouts be, in rivers, sooner in season; and as some hollies or oaks are longer before they cast their leaves, so are some trouts in rivers longer before they go out of season."
The gray-haired man closed the book, thereby revealing the title"Walton's Compleat Angler," and looked across the stream. The sunlightflickered over its rippling surface, and now and then there was asplash in the otherwise quiet waters--a splash that to the reader wasilluminating indeed.
"Shag!" he suddenly exclaimed, thereby galvanizing into life thesomnolent negro.
"Yes, sah, Colonel! Yes, sah!" came the response.
"Hum! Asleep, weren't you?"
"Well, no, sah. Not zactly asleep, Colonel. I were jest takin' the fustof mah forty winks, an'--"
"Well, postpone the rest for this evening. I think I'll make somecasts here. I don't expect any trout, my friend Walton to the contrary.Besides they're out of season now. But I may get something. Get me therod, Shag!"
"Yes, sah, Colonel! Yes, sah!"
And while the fishing paraphernalia was being put in readiness by hiscolored servant, Colonel Robert Lee Ashley once more opened the littlegreen book, as though to draw inspiration therefrom. And he read:
"Only thus much is necessary for you to know, and to be mindful and careful of, that if the pike or perch do breed in that river, they will be sure to bite first and must first be taken. And for the most part they are very large."
"Well, large or small, it doesn't much matter, so I catch some,"observed the colonel.
Then he carefully baited the hook, after he had taken the rod and linefrom Shag, who handled it as though it was a rare object of art; which,indeed, it was to his master.
"I think we shall go back with a fine mess of perch, Shag," observed thefisherman.
"Yes, sah, Colonel, dat's what we will," was the cheerful answer.
"And this time we won't, under any consideration, let anything interferewith our vacation, Shag."
"No, sah, Colonel. No, sah!"
"If you see me buying a paper, Shag, mind, if you ever hear me asking ifthe last edition is out, stop me at once."
"I will, Colonel."
"And if any one tries to tell me of a murder mystery, of a big robbery,or of anything except where the fish are biting best, Shag, why, youjust--"
"I'll jest natchully knock 'em down, Colonel! Dat's what I'll do!"exclaimed the colored man, as cheerfully as though he would relish such [Updater's note: line missing?]
"Well, I can't advise that, of course," said the colonel with a smile,"but you may use your own judgment. I came here for a rest, and I don'twant to run into another diamond cross mystery, or anything like it."
"No, sah, Colonel. But yo' suah did elucidate dat one most expeditiouslike. I nevah saw sech--"
"That will do now, Shag. I don't want to be reminded of it. I came hereto fish, not to work, nor hold any post-mortems on past cases. Now forit!" and the elderly man cast in where a little eddy, under the grassybank, indicated deep water, in which the perch or other fish might lurkthis sunny day.
And yet, in spite of his determination not to recall the details of thediamond cross mystery to which Shag had alluded, Colonel Ashley couldnot help dwelling on one or two phases of what, with justifiable pride,he regarded as one of the most successful of his many cases.
Colonel Robert Lee Ashley was a detective by instinct and profession,though of late years he had endeavored, but with scant success, to turnthe more routine matters of his profession over to his able assistants.
To those who have read of his masterly solution of the diamond crossmystery the colonel needs no introduction. He was a well known characterin police and criminal circles, because of his success in catching manya slippery representative of the latter.
He had served in the secret service during the Spanish-American war, andlater had become the head of the police department of a large Easterncity. From that he had built up a private business of his own thatassumed large proportions, until advancing age and a desire to fish andreflect caused him virtually to retire from active work. And now, as hehad so often done before, he had come to this quiet stream to angle.
And yet, even as he dropped his bait into the water, he could not keephis active mind from passing in rapid review over some of the events ofhis career--especially the late episode of the Darcy diamond cross.
"Well, I'm glad I helped out in that case," mused the colonel, as he satup more alertly, for there came a tremor to his line that told much tohis practiced and sensitive hands.
A moment later the reel clicked its song of a strike, and the colonelgot first to his knees and then to his feet as he prepared to play hisfish.
"I've hooked one, Shag!" he called in a low but tense voice. "I'vehooked one, and I think it's a beauty!"
"Yes, sah, Colonel! Yes, sah! Dat's fine! I'll be ready as soon as yo'is!"
Shag caught up a landing net, for, though the colonel was notanticipating any gamy fish in this quiet, country stream, yet for suchas he caught he used such light tackle that a net was needed to bringeven a humble perch to shore.
"I've got him, Shag! I've got him!" the colonel cried, as the fish brokewater, a shimmering shower of sparkling drops falling from his sides."I've got him, and it's a bass, too! I didn't think there were any here!I've got him!"
"Yes, sah, Colonel! Yo' suah has!" exclaimed the delighted GeorgeWashington Shag. "You suah has got a beauty!"
And as Shag started forward with the landing net, while the colonelwas playing with the skill of long years of practice the fish which haddeveloped unexpected fighting powers, there was a movement among thebushes that lined the stream below the willows, and a young man, showingevery evidence of eagerness, advanced toward the fisherman. Shag saw himand called:
"Keep back! Keep back, sah, if yo' please! De Colonel, he's done got abite, an'--"
"Bite! You mean that something's bitten him?" asked the young man, forhe could not see the figure of the colonel, who, just then, in allowingthe bass to have a run, had followed him up stream.
"No, he's catchin' a fish--he's got a strike--a big one! Don't isturbhim."
"But I must see him. I've come a long distance to--"
"Distance or closeness don't make no mattah of diffunce to de colonelwhen he's got a bite, sah! I'm sorry, but I can't let yo' go any closer,an' I'se got to go an' land de fish. Aftah dat, if you wants to hab aword wif de colonel, well, maybe he'll see yo', sah," and Shag, witha warning gesture, like that of a traffic policeman halting a line ofautomobiles, started toward the colonel, who was still playing his fish.
Harry Bartlett, for he it was who had thus somewhat rudely interruptedthe detective's fishing, stopped in the shade of the willows, somewhatchagrined. He had come a long way for a talk, and now to be thus heldback by a colored man who seemed to have no idea of the importance ofthe mission was provoking.
But there was something authoritative in Shag's manner, and, being abusiness man, Harry Bartlett knew better than to make an inauspiciousapproach. It would be as bad as slicing his golf ball on the drive.
So
he waited beside the silent stream, not so silent as it had been, forit was disturbed by the movements, up and down, of Colonel Ashley, whowas playing his fish with consummate skill.
Seeing a little green book on the grass where it had fallen, HarryBartlett picked it up. Idly opening the pages, he read:
"There is also a fish called a sticklebag, a fish without scales, but he hath his body fenced with several prickles. I know not where he dwells in winter, nor what he is good for in summer, but only to make sport for boys and women anglers, and to feed other fish that be fish of prey, as trout in particular, who will bite at him as at a penk, and better, if your hook be rightly baited with him; for he may be so baited, as, his tail turning like a sail of a windmill, will make him turn more quick than any penk or minnow can."
"I guess I've got the right man," said Harry Bartlett with a smile.