ve got away all the same."

"Not if I'd had a good grip," said Manners.

"I don't know," said Will. "He might have got a good grip of you.
Those big ones can bite like fun. Are you very wet?"

"Bah! Abominable mess. This floor's covered with slime."

"Shall we stop any longer?"

"No," said the artist; "I've had enough for once. Let's get out in the
open air again, and try and find out what made your noise."

In a few minutes they were back on the top of the great stone wall that
held the waters back, listening in the darkness amidst the rush and roar
of sluices and chute, supplemented by the distant thunder of the heavy
falls high up the stream, for the peculiar thumping whose repetitions
had caught Will's ears.

But they listened in vain, and continued their way to Drinkwater's
cottage, where the basket with its living freight was placed, spite of
the artist's protests, in his landlady's hands.

"Well, I suppose I must keep them," said Manners, "and I will, for this
is about the finish up of our games, lads, for this year."

He spoke unconsciously. It was; for as soon as the trio had passed from
the dam on their way to the first zig-zag, from out of the darkness at
one end of the dam the strange, weird noise began again. It was as if
heavy blows were being given upon some great iron tool. Now and then
they would cease, but only to go on again for quite two hours, till all
at once a fresh sound arose--a peculiar, whispering gurgle, which
gradually gathered force, to go on increasing through the night; but not
another blow was heard to fall.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

DANGER.

Will returned to the Mill House that night rather later than he should
have been, after a long chat with the artist, and the first thing he
learned was that his father had gone to bed with a bad headache.

It was his own time, too, and he hurried up to his bedroom, when, like a
flash, came the recollection of the strange sounds he had heard. It was
too late to go out again, so he opened the window and leaned there,
listening; but from that position he could hear the roar of many
waters--nothing more.

As a rule, Will's habit was to bang his head down on the pillow and draw
one very deep, long, restful breath, as he stretched himself at full
length, and the next moment he was asleep.

Somehow, on this particular night, when he went through his customary
movements, the result was that he was more wide-awake than ever. Then
f