e came on deck from the cabin, sat down for'ard, and began
picking a chicken. The feathers floated away in a long line toward the
mouth of the slough.

"Oh! Look!" Saxon pointed in her excitement. "He's fishing! And the line
is fast to his toe!"

The man had dropped the book face-downward on the cabin and reached for
the line, while the woman looked up from her sewing, and the terrier
began to bark. In came the line, hand under hand, and at the end a
big catfish. When this was removed, and the line rebaited and dropped
overboard, the man took a turn around his toe and went on reading.

A Japanese came down on the landing-stage beside Saxon and Billy, and
hailed the yacht. He carried parcels of meat and vegetables; one coat
pocket bulged with letters, the other with morning papers. In response
to his hail, the Japanese on the yacht stood up with the part-plucked
chicken. The man said something to him, put aside the book, got into the
white skiff lying astern, and rowed to the landing. As he came alongside
the stage, he pulled in his oars, caught hold, and said good morning
genially.

"Why, I know you," Saxon said impulsively, to Billy's amazement. "You
are.. .."

Here she broke off in confusion.

"Go on," the man said, smiling reassurance.

"You are Jack Hastings, I 'm sure of it. I used to see your photograph
in the papers all the time you were war correspondent in the
Japanese-Russian War. You've written lots of books, though I've never
read them."

"Right you are," he ratified. "And what's your name?"

Saxon introduced herself and Billy, and, when she noted the writer's
observant eye on their packs, she sketched the pilgrimage they were
on. The farm in the valley of the moon evidently caught his fancy, and,
though the Japanese and his parcels were safely in the skiff, Hastings
still lingered. When Saxon spoke of Carmel, he seemed to know everybody
in Hall's crowd, and when he heard they were intending to go to Rio
Vista, his invitation was immediate.

"Why, we're going that way ourselves, inside an hour, as soon as slack
water comes," he exclaimed. "It's just the thing. Come on on board.
We'll be there by four this afternoon if there's any wind at all. Come
on. My wife's on board, and Mrs. Hall is one of her best chums. We've
been away to South America--just got back; or you'd have seen us in
Carmel. Hal wrote to us about the pair of you."

It was the second time in her life that Saxon had been in a sma