"Hello, you people! Where are you?"--sweeping the wood's edge with his
flash-light--"oh, there you are. Isn't this glorious? Did you ever see
such a sight as those big fellows jumping?"

"Meanwhile," said his sister, rising, "our guests are doubtless yelling
with hunger. What time is it, Duane? Half-past eight? Please hurry,
Scott; we've got to get back and dress in five minutes!"

"I can do it easily," announced her brother, going ahead to light the
path. And all the way home he discussed aloud upon the stripping,
hatching, breeding, care, and diseases of trout, never looking back,
and quite confident that they were listening attentively to his woodland
lecture.

"Duane," she said, lowering her voice, "do you think all our
misunderstandings are ended?"

"Certainly," he replied gaily. "Don't you?"

"But how am I going to make everybody think you are not frivolous?"

"I am frivolous. There's lots of froth to me--on top. You know that sort
of foam you see on grass-stems in the fields. Hidden away inside is a
very clever and busy little creature. He uses the froth to protect
himself."

"Are you going to froth?"

"Yes--until----"