id Chippy in a husky whisper to
himself. 'I see. I heerd Carrots say it 'ud be a good
game to roll one on 'em in the sludge. But that's seven
on 'em to one. That ain't good enough!' And he began
to hurry after them.

'Wot cheer, mates!' he shouted in his hoarse tones.
''Old 'ard a bit! Lemme come up!'

But the victorious band were deaf to the calls of their
leader, and at this instant they disappeared at a point
where a sloping wharf ran from the quay edge into the
river.

'Bring 'im along to the other end o' the wharf!'
commanded the red-haired boy; 'then we'll chuck 'im bang
into the mud, an' see 'im scrabble 'is way out!'

'Lemme go, you fellows!' yelled Dick, fighting with
tooth and nail to wrench himself free; but there were
too many for him, and Chippy, who loved fair play, and
practised it, was too far behind. But, luckily for Dick,
other help was at hand, or he would assuredly have
been pitched straight into eighteen inches of foul black
mud.

A boat had been pulled from a ship in mid-stream to
the wharf, and a tall gentleman landed from it as Dick
was dragged past the spot.

'What! you, Dick?' shouted the new-comer. 'What
does this mean?' and, followed by the boatman, he made
a dash at the group.

The wharf-rats threw down their captive and fled, and
the gentleman picked Dick up.

'Thanks, Uncle Jim,' said Dick, puffing like a grampus.
'If you hadn't lent a hand, those wharf-rats would have
tipped me over into the mud.'

'How did you fall into their hands?' asked his uncle.

'They've been a-sluggin', I shouldn't wonder,'
remarked the boatman.

'That was it,' said Dick. 'There was a slug between
our fellows and the wharf-rats out of Skinner's Hole, and
they bagged me.'

His uncle nodded. He had been a Bardon boy in his
time, and knew all about it. He paid the boatman, and
away he and Dick went together, for his house was in the
same road as Dick's home.

'They're a jolly sly lot, those wharf-rats,' said Dick,
as they walked along. 'Our fellows sent me ahead as a
scout, but I never saw a sign of them, and yet they were
waiting for us on the Flat all the time.'

'Seems to me you weren't much of a success as a scout,
Dick,' said his uncle, smiling.

'You're right there, Uncle Jim,' replied Dick, a broad
grin on his honest, open face. 'I muffed it that time, and
no mistake. Hallo, here's the bobby!'

The constable who had the Quay beat came hurrying
along, looking red and