a careful examination of the under sides of the sleepers and flooring
for cocoons. Mrs. Comstock could see her and the creek for several rods
above. The mother sat beating the long green leaves across her hand,
carefully picking out the white buds, because Elnora liked them, when a
splash up the creek attracted her attention.

Around the bend came a man. He was bareheaded, dressed in a white
sweater, and waders which reached his waist. He walked on the bank, only
entering the water when forced. He had a queer basket strapped on his
hip, and with a small rod he sent a long line spinning before him down
the creek, deftly manipulating with it a little floating object. He was
closer Elnora than her mother, but Mrs. Comstock thought possibly by
hurrying she could remain unseen and yet warn the girl that a stranger
was coming. As she approached the bridge, she caught a sapling and
leaned over the water to call Elnora. With her lips parted to speak she
hesitated a second to watch a sort of insect that flashed past on the
water, when a splash from the man attracted the girl.

She was under the bridge, one knee planted in the embankment and a foot
braced to support her. Her hair was tousled by wind and bushes, her face
flushed, and she lifted her arms above her head, working to loosen a
cocoon she had found. The call Mrs. Comstock had intended to utter never
found voice, for as Elnora looked down at the sound, "Possibly I could
get that for you," suggested the man.

Mrs. Comstock drew back. He was a young man with a wonderfully
attractive face, although it was too white for robust health, broad
shoulders, and slender, upright frame.

"Oh, I do hope you can!" answered Elnora. "It's quite a find! It's one