the boy.

"Depends on the catch. When it's a bad catch no one cares to see them
back."

Dick tried hard to keep down his next question, but it had a sort of
fascination for him, and he could not smother it.

"I suppose," said he in the most careless tones he could assume, "Tom
White's not likely to come back in a hurry?"

Green laughed. He was no friend of the double-dealing mariner.

"Not if he knows who's a-going to be down on the beach to welcome him.
But, bless you, how's he to know? The sooner he comes home and gets his
right lodgings, the better, so say I. What do you say, young squire?"

The "young squire" did not exactly know what to say, and took up his can
of worms to depart, with something like precipitation.

He found Cresswell and Freckleton waiting for him down at the boat.
Until this moment he had never seen the Templeton Hermit, except
occasionally at a distance; and he glanced with some curiosity at the
face of the fellow who had beaten Pledge for the Bishop's Scholarship.
He didn't altogether dislike him. The stolid face and bright black eyes
of the Hermit made him a little uncomfortable, but there was an
occasional twitch at the corners of his mouth, and a music, when he
chose to use it, in his voice, which reconciled the junior to his
presence, and even interested him in the disposal of his new patron's
good graces.

It didn't take long to get "all aboard." The precious worms were safely
deposited in the hold, the three lines were stowed away under the seat,
and the basket containing the sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs added
ballast to the bows. Cresswell, who had an idea of doing things
comfortably, had brought his ulster and made Freckleton bring his. The
latter had armed himself also with a Shakespeare in case the fish didn't
bite; and three towels, knowingly produced by the whipper-in, added a
further pleasant suggestion for whiling away a dull half-hour.

The calmness of the day and the absence of any sign of wind induced the
party to vote the mast and sails a useless encumbrance, and they were
accordingly left ashore, and a spare pair of oars taken in their place.
The irony of fate left it to Dick's lot to see the anchor was in proper
trim and firmly secured--a task which he discharged with almost vicious
solemnity.

"What time does the tide turn, Joe?" asked Cresswell of the boatman as
they ran the boat down to the water.

"Half-past two about, mister. Yer'll need to brin