When they came to the temporary bridge, Jimmy started across it,
and Dannie called to him to wait, he was forgetting his worms.
"I don't want any worms," answered Jimmy briefly. He walked on.
Dannie stood staring after him, for he did not understand that.
Then he went slowly to his side of the river, and deposited his
load under a tree where it would be out of the way.
He lay down his pole, took a rude wooden spool of heavy fish cord
from his pocket, and passed the line through the loop next the
handle and so on the length of the rod to the point. Then he wired
on a sharp bass hook, and wound the wire far up the doubled line.
As he worked, he kept an eye on Jimmy. He was doing practically the
same thing. But just as Dannie had fastened on a light lead to
carry his line, a souse in the river opposite attracted his
attention. Jimmy hauled from the water a minnow bucket, and opening
it, took out a live minnow, and placed it on his hook. "Riddy," he
called, as he resank the bucket, and stood on the bank, holding his
line in his fingers, and watching the minnow play at his feet.
The fact that Dannie was a Scotchman, and unusually slow and
patient, did not alter the fact that he was just a common human
being. The lump that rose in his throat was so big, and so hard, he
did not try to swallow it. He hurried back into Rainbow Bottom. The
first log he came across he kicked over, and grovelling in the
rotten wood and loose earth with his hands, he brought up a half
dozen bluish-white grubs.
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