"What is your name?" said Anderson, in lieu of a disclaimer, which
somehow he felt would seem to savor of mock modesty in the face of
this youthful enthusiasm.

"Why, don't you know?" asked the boy, in some wonder. "I thought
everybody knew who we were. I am Captain Carroll's son. My name is
Eddy Carroll."

"I knew you were Captain Carroll's son, but I did not know your first
name."

"I knew you," said the boy. "I saw you out in the field catching
butterflies."

"Where were you?"

"Oh, I was fishing. I was under those willows by the brook. I kept
pretty still, and you didn't see me. Have to lay low while you're
fishing, you know."

"Of course," said Anderson.

"I didn't catch anything. I don't believe fish are very thick in the
brooks around here. I used to catch great big fellers when I lived in
Hillfield. One day--"

"When do you have your dinner at home?" broke in Anderson.

"'Most any time. Say, Mr. Anderson, what are you going to have for