fishing could be found in the whole south
than in the Ochakee River. He seemed satisfied with my knowledge of the
country; and told me a little of his own plans. Just as Edith Nealman
had told me, he was planning a week's fish and hunt for a half dozen of
his man friends, beginning a fortnight from then. They were coming a
long way--so he wanted to give them sport of the best. The servant
problem had been easily solved--he had recruited from the negro section
of the nearest city--but until he had talked with my friend, Mr. Todd,
he had been at a loss as to where he could procure a suitable guide.

"I'd like to have a guide for each man, if I could," he went on, "but of
course they are not to be found. Besides, only a small part of the party
will want to go out at once. Most of them will be content to hang around
here, drinking my brandies and fishing in the lagoon."

"How is fishing in the lagoon?" I asked.

"The best. Sometimes we even take tarpon. All kinds of rock fish--and
they fight like fiends. The rocks are just full of little crevices and
caves, and I suppose the fish live in 'em. These same crevices are the
source of one of the most interesting of the many legends connected with
this house."

It's a dull man that doesn't love legends, and I felt my interest
stirring. "There are some tales here, eh?"

"Tales! Man, that's one of the reasons I bought the place."

Nealman needed no further urging. Evidently the old stories that almost
invariably accumulate about such an ancient and famous manor-house as
this, had the greatest fascination for him; and he was glad of the
chance to narrate them to any listener. He lighted a cigarette: then
turned to me with glistening eyes.

"Of course I don't believe them," he began. "Don't get that in your head
for an instant. All these old houses have some such yarns. But they
surely do lend a flavor to the place--and I wouldn't have them disproved
for thousands of dollars. And one of them--the one I just referred
to--surely is a corker."

He straightened in his chair, and spoke more earnestly. "Killdare,
you're not troubled with a too-active imagination?"

"I'll take a chance on it," I told him.

"I've seen a few men, in my time, that I wouldn't tell such a yarn to
for love nor money--especially when they are doomed to stay around here
for a few weeks. You won't believe it, but some men are so nervous, so
naturally credulous, that they'd actually have some unpleasant d