Come here for breakfast,
and--listen--be here by half-past six--are you LISTENING, Condy?--
and we'll go down to the depot from here. Don't forget to bring
the rods."
"I'll wear my bicycle suit," he said, "and one of those golf
scarfs that wrap around your neck."
"No," she declared, "I won't have it. Wear the oldest clothes
you've got, but look fairly respectable, because we're to go to
Luna's when we get back, remember. And now go home; you need all
the sleep you can get if you are to get up at six o'clock."
Instead of being late, as Blix had feared, Condy was absurdly
ahead of time the next morning. For a wonder, he had not
forgotten the rods; but he was one tremor of nervousness. He
would eat no breakfast.
"We're going to miss that train," he would announce from time to
time; "I just know it. Blix, look what time it is. We ought to
be on the way to the depot now. Come on; you don't want any more
coffee. Have you got everything? Did you put the reels in the
lunch-basket?--and the fly-book? Lord, if we should forget the
fly-book!"
He managed to get her to the depot over half an hour ahead of
time. The train had not even backed in, nor the ticket office
opened.
"I told you, Condy, I told you," complained Blix, sinking
helplessly upon a bench in the waiting-room.
"No--no--no," he answered vaguely, looking nervously about, his
head in the air. "We're none too soon--have more time to rest
now. I wonder what track the train leaves from.
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