rn, the poles slanting
down toward the dark water, silent and intent. In not more than two
minutes Bobby felt his pole twitch. Without much difficulty he drew to
the surface a broad flat little fish that flashed as he turned in the
water.

"Hi!" cried Bobby, "there _are_ fish here!"

"Oh, that's a sunfish," said Captain Marsh.

Bobby looked up.

"Aren't sunfish good?" he inquired anxiously.

Captain Marsh opened his mouth to reply, caught Bobby's apprehensive and
half-disappointed expression, and thought better of it.

"Why, sure!" said he. "They're a fine fish."

At the end of an hour Bobby had acquired a goodly string. Captain Marsh
early drew in his line, saying he preferred to smoke. Bobby had an
excellent time. He was very much surprised at the return of the picnic
party. The period of punishment had not hung heavy.

By the time all had embarked, the steam pressure was up. The _Robert O_
swung down stream for home.

But now Celia, forgetting her earlier caprice of indifference, watched
Bobby constantly. After a little he became aware of it, and was
flattered in his secret soul, but he attempted no more advances, nor did
he vouchsafe her the smallest glance. Soon she sidled over to him shyly.

"What made you do it?" she asked in a whisper.

"Do what?" pretended Bobby.

"Break Mrs. Owen's cake."

"'Cause I wanted to."

"Didn't you know 't was very bad?"

"'Course."

Celia contemplated Bobby with a new and respectful interest. "I wouldn't
dare do it," she acknowledged at last. In this lay confession of the
reason for her change of whim; but Bobby could not be expected to
realize that. With masculine directness he seized the root of his
grievance and brought it to light.

"Why were you so mean this noon?" he demanded.

She made wide eyes.

"I wasn't mean. How was I mean?"

"You went away; and you wouldn't look at me or talk to me."

"I didn't care whether I talked to you or not," she denied. "I wanted to
be with my mamma."

So on the return trip, too, Bobby had a good time. The wharf surprised
him, and the flurry of disembarkation prevented his saying formal
good-bye to Celia. He waved his hand at her, however, and grinned
amiably. To his astonishment she gave him the briefest possible nod over
her shoulder; and walked away, her hand clasping that of her mother,
even yet a dainty airy figure in her mussed white dress still flaring
with starch, her slim black legs, and her wide leghorn hat