e on the landing-stage as we drew near it, so I managed,
by an adroit movement, to jerk his cap into the water, and in the
excitement of recovering that, and his indignation at my clumsiness, he
forgot all about his beloved graves.

At Weybridge, the Wey (a pretty little stream, navigable for small boats
up to Guildford, and one which I have always been making up my mind to
explore, and never have), the Bourne, and the Basingstoke Canal all enter
the Thames together. The lock is just opposite the town, and the first
thing that we saw, when we came in view of it, was George's blazer on one
of the lock gates, closer inspection showing that George was inside it.

Montmorency set up a furious barking, I shrieked, Harris roared; George
waved his hat, and yelled back. The lock-keeper rushed out with a drag,
under the impression that somebody had fallen into the lock, and appeared
annoyed at finding that no one had.

George had rather a curious oilskin-covered parcel in his hand. It was
round and flat at one end, with a long straight handle sticking out of
it.

"What's that?" said Harris--"a frying-pan?"

"No," said George, with a strange, wild look glittering in his eyes;
"they are all the rage this season; everybody has got them up the river.
It's a banjo."

"I never knew you played the banjo!" cried Harris and I, in one breath.

"Not exactly," replied George: "but it's very easy, they tell me; and
I've got the instruction book!"

[Picture: George and the banjo]

CHAPTER IX.

George is introduced to work.--Heathenish instincts of
tow-lines.--Ungrateful conduct of a double-sculling skiff.--Towers and
towed.--A use discovered for lovers.--Strange disappearance of an elderly
lady.--Much haste, less speed.--Being towed by girls: exciting
sensation.--The missing lock or the haunted river.--Music.--Saved!

We made George work, now we had got him. He did not want to work, of
course; that goes without saying. He had had a hard time in the City, so
he explained. Harris, who is callous in his nature, and not prone to
pity, said:

"Ah! and now you are going to have a hard time on the river for a change;
change is good for everyone. Out you get!"

He could not in conscience--not even George's conscience--object, though
he did suggest that, perhaps, it would be better for him to stop in the
boat, and get tea ready, while Harris and I towed, because getting tea
was such a worrying work,