" He laughed again. "The accident part worked out all right."
He paused, still laughing--enjoying the artist's discomfiture; then ended
with a curious--"What in thunder were you sneaking around in the brush
like that for, anyway? Those women won't bite."
Aaron King explained how he had heard the music while fishing; and how,
following the sound, he had acted upon an impulse to catch a glimpse of
the unknown musician before revealing himself; and then, in his interest,
had forgotten that he was playing the part of a spy--until so rudely
aroused by the hand of the Ranger.
Brian Oakley chuckled; "If _I'd_ acted upon impulse when I first saw you
peeking through those cedars, you would have been more surprised than you
were. But while I was sneaking up on you I noticed your get-up--with your
creel and rod--and figured how you might have come there. So I thought I
would go a little slow."
"And you wear rather heavy boots too," said the artist suggestively. Then,
more at ease, he joined in the laugh at himself.
"Catch any fish?" asked the Ranger--lifting the cover of the creel.
"Whee!" as he saw the contents. "That's bully! And I'm hungry as a she
wolf too! Been in the saddle since sunup without a bite.
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