Probably an hour had passed, when she was suddenly aroused by the sound of footsteps behind her. She looked up hopefully, but was only disappointed. It was the one person in camp whom she did not care to see: it was Kirk Smith! “Good morning, Marjorie,” said the young man, pleasantly. “Caught anything?” “Not yet!” replied Marjorie, dully. “May I join you?” he asked. “If you care to,” replied the girl, indifferently. Kirk sat down and cast his line into the stream. It was only a minute later that he brought up a beautiful fish. “How pretty!” cried Marjorie, with true admiration in her tone. He was subtly flattered, and in a little while succeeded in repeating his achievement. “Please show me,” said the girl, humbly, handing her line to him. Kirk put down his line and placed a stone upon it to hold it in place, and, taking Marjorie’s, examined the hook. “I guess you’ve been dreaming, young lady; your hook is empty,” he announced, laughing. Baiting it for her from his own supply, he cast it in again, and handed the line back to her. Kirk seemed in a talkative mood. He commenced a conversation on the art of angling, giving Marjorie brief pointers here and there, to which she listened with eager attention. So rapt was she in the subject that she temporarily forgot all about her former dislike for the man. Before very long, Marjorie was more successful, landing four big trout, one after another. Her eyes shone with happiness; she felt very grateful to Kirk. They were picking up their fish when it suddenly occurred to Marjorie to ask whether her companion knew anything about radio. “A little--and I’m tremendously interested in the subject,” he replied. “Well, if I’d tell you a secret,” said Marjorie, “would you promise not to laugh at me, or tell anybody?” “Certainly,” replied the young man gravely. Marjorie then proceeded to unfold the Girl Scouts’ plan in regard to providing one for the ranch. She wanted advice in buying it, and help in putting it up when it arrived. “I know one young man who is employed by a firm that manufactures outfits,” she said, “but I don’t know the name of the firm, and I’d rather not write to him personally.” “Well, I will write to the best firm I know if you want me to,” he said, “if you will tell me about what you want to spend.” Marjorie named the price. “And you would help us?” she asked, eagerly. “I’d be delighted!” replied the young man, and they strolled back to camp together. CHAPTER XIII. NIGHT FEARS. When Marjorie and Kirk reached the camp again, they found the rest of the party already eating breakfast. Too hungry to wait for the wanderers, they had begun as soon as the cook announced that he was ready. “See what we have!” cried Marjorie, gleefully, holding up her catch. “Great!” commended Bob, thinking of the pleasant addition to his breakfast. The scouts, however, were too much surprised to see Marjorie and Kirk together to think much about the fish.