tide's coming in at a lick," said Dick. "Half an hour later, we
should have had to tramp on the soft sand-- Lookout, you duffer!"

The last remark was caused by Heathcote tripping over a rope, and coming
down all fours on the wet sand.

"Bother that rope," said he, "I never saw it. I say, it's rather a
small one for that big boat, isn't it?"

"It is," said Dick, walking round to the stern of the boat in question,
"its-- Hallo, I say, Georgie, look here!"

Georgie looked in the direction of Dick's finger, and read the words,
"'_Martha_,' _Thomas White, Templeton_" on the stern of the boat.

Both boys whistled. Then Dick marched resolutely up to the bows, over a
thwart in which the anchor rope was hitched in a loop.

"Tom White must have been drunk when he anchored this boat," said Dick.
"She'll never hold if the wind gets up."

"Good job, too," said Heathcote.

"So I think," said Dick, thoughtfully. "I say, Georgie," added he, with
his fingers playing on the end of the loop, "Tom White's a frightful
cad, isn't he?"

"Rather!"

"And a thief, too?"

"I should think so."

"It would serve him jolly well right if he lost his boat."

"He don't deserve to have a boat at all."

"This knot," said Dick, slipping the loop, "wouldn't hold against a
single lurch. Why, it comes undone in a fellow's hand--"

And the end dropped idly on the floor of the boat as he spoke.

Heathcote nodded.

"Think of the cad having robbed two juniors like us, and collared
mother's photograph, too, the brute!" said Dick, taking his friend's arm
and walking on.

They talked no longer of Thomas White, but admired the moonlight, and
wondered how soon the tide would be up, and speculated as to whether
there wasn't a breeze getting up off the land. Once they turned back,
and glanced at the black hull, lying, still aground, with the tide yards
away yet. Then they thought a trot would warm them up before they put
on their boots, and mounted the cliff to Templeton.

The clock struck half-past eleven as they knocked modestly at the
porter's lodge. The porter was up, and evidently expected them.

"Nice goings-on, young gentlemen," said he. "The Doctor wishes to see
you after chapel in the morning. In you go. I'm sorry for you."

With fluttering hearts they stole across the moonlit Quadrangle, and
gazed round at the grim windows that peered down on them from every
side. The housekeeper was up and ready for them, too.

"Bad bo