Once alongside the boat, Sales shifted out of his diving gear and, stepping on the outdrive, hoisted himself up over the stern. Breathing hard, he peeked up over the gunwale and turned in every direction to see if anyone was near. It was a quiet day on the lake and, as far as he could see, only a few distant fishermen and a single pontoon boat shared the water's surface. He immediately began bringing in his lines. One had a good-size striper on it, and that was all the better. With everything in order, he fired up the big V-8 engine and headed for shore. Just to make sure he was seen, he stopped for gas before replacing his boat in its slip.

"Get anything?" drawled the crusty old gaffer who worked the pump.

"Striper," Sales said in his typically taciturn way.

The old man nodded and peered into the boat. He was surprised when Sales took the time to lift the fish out of the cooler in a neighborly way for him to see.

"Nice 'un," he said.

Sales nodded, but his attention was on the driveway that came down from the main road. When the tank was full, he couldn't keep himself from asking, "You see me out there all day?"

The old man gave him a funny look and said, "Yup." After an uncomfortable pause he continued, "Fact is, me 'n' Kent seen you out there and were talking on it. Not like you to stay in one spot so long…"

Sales gave the old man an uncharacteristic smile and, before pushing off, said, "Fell asleep. You believe that? Must be getting old."

Sales wasn't home more than an hour before he heard a car pull in. From his place in the kitchen he looked across the tiny bar and out through the front window to see Bob Bolinger mounting the steps. Bolinger stopped at the top. There were two bathing suits hanging on the rail, one wet and one dry. Tentatively, he picked the damp one off the rail. When he glanced up, he saw Sales staring at him through the window. He replaced the suit with an awkward smile before knocking on the door.