his friend's enthusiasm. Like his elder brother,
he instinctively disliked Tom Drift, without exactly being able to give
a reason.

His reserve, however, had no effect on Charlie's high spirits. At last
the wish of his heart had been gained! No longer did he walk with the
burden of a broken promise weighting his neck; no longer did the
consciousness of having an enemy oppress him.

"Simpleton!" many of my readers will exclaim. Perhaps he was; but even
if you laugh at him, I think you will hardly despise him for his simple-
mindedness, for who would not rather be such a one than the tempter, Tom
Drift?

All that week he was jubilant. Boys looked round in astonishment at the
shrillness of his whistle and the ring of his laughter. His corner of
the class room was a simple Babel, and the number of apples he bestowed
in charity was prodigious.

Something, every one could see, had happened to make him happier than
ever. Few knew what that something was, and fewer still knew what it
meant.

"What are you up to to-morrow?" asked the elder Halliday of his fag on
the Friday evening.

"Fishing," briskly replied the boy.

"You're for ever fishing," said Joe. "I suppose that young brother of
mine is going with you?"

"No; Jim's going to play in the match against the Badgers."

The "Badgers," let me explain, was the name of a scratch cricket eleven
made up of boys in the first, second and third forms.

"Are you going alone, then?"

Charlie felt uncomfortable as he answered,--

"No."

"Whom are you going with?" pursued the inquiring Joe.

"A fellow in the fifth who asked me to come."

"What's his name?"

Charlie had no help for it now.

"Tom Drift," he faltered.

"Tom Drift! I thought you and he were at loggerheads."

"Oh, don't you know we've made it up? He was awfully kind about it, and
said he was sorry, when it was really my fault, and we shook hands, and
to-morrow we are going to fish in a place he knows where there's no end
of trout."

"Where's that?"

"He didn't want me to tell, for fear everybody should come and spoil the
sport; but I suppose I can tell you, though; it's up the Sharle, near
Gurley."

"Humph! I've fished there before now. Not such a wonderful lot of
fish, either."

"I suppose you won't be there to-morrow?" asked Charlie nervously,
afraid of losing the confidence of Tom Drift by attracting strangers to
his waters.

"Not if I know it," replied Joe. "I say, youngster