He caught Evadna in the act of regarding him sidelong,
just as a horse sometimes will keep an eye on the man with the
rope in a corral; so he knew she was thinking of him, at least,
and was wondering what he meant to do next, and the savage in him
laughed and lay down again, knowing himself the master.
What he did was to throw away the burnt fish, clean the
frying-pan, and start more sizzling over the fire, which he
kicked into just the right condition. He whistled softly to
himself while he broke dry sticks across his knee for the fire,
and when Miss Georgie cried out that she had made three hits in
succession, he called back: "Good shot!" and took up the tune
where he had left off. Never, for one instant, was he
unconscious of Evadna's secret watchfulness, and never, for one
instant, did he let her see that she was in his thoughts.
He finished frying the fish, set out the sandwiches and
doughnuts, and pickled peaches and cheese, and pounded upon a tin
plate to announce that dinner was ready.
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