As she drew near the river, the banks of which are marked by a high bluff
on the other side, the young woman felt a growing sense of embarrassment.
What would Mr. Matthews think of her coming to him in such a way? And Dr.
Oldham--. Already she could feel the keen eyes of the old physician, with
their knowing twinkle, fixed upon her face. The Doctor always made you
feel that he knew so much more about you than you knew about yourself.
Coming to the river at the mouth of the creek, she saw them, and half
hidden by the upturned roots of a fallen tree, she stood still. They were
on the downstream side of the creek; Dan, with rubber boots that came to
his hips, standing far out on the sandy bar, braced against the current,
that tugged and pulled at his great legs; the Doctor farther down, on the
bank.
Miss Farwell watched Dan with the curious interest a woman always feels
when watching a man who, while engaged in a man's work or play, is
unconscious of her presence.
She saw the fisherman as he threw the line far out, with a strong, high
swing of his long arm. And as she looked, a lusty bass--heavy, full of
fight--took the hook, and she saw the man stand motionless, intent,
alert, at the instant he first felt the fish. Then she caught the
skillful turn of his wrist as he struck--quick and sure; watched, with
breathless interest as--bracing himself--the fisherman's powerful figure
became instinct with life. With the boiling water grasping his legs,
clinging to him like a tireless wrestler seeking the first unguarded
moment; and with the plunging, tugging, rushing giant at the other end
of the silken line--fighting with every inch of his spring--steel body
for freedom, Dan made a picture to bring the light of admiration to any
woman's eyes.
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