he water.

Now, trout always lie with their noses pointing upstream, and when
alarmed dash away in that direction. But this time there was a wall of
net to intercept their flight, and as the drag-net was brought up and
up, the fish would be enclosed between the two nets and caught.

While these preparations were going on, Dick had watched eagerly for a
chance that never came. Smiley remained too close to the gagged and
pinioned captive for Dick to chance a rush, and the poacher was armed
with a heavy stick.

'I wish the moon would go down,' thought Dick, and glanced over his
shoulder towards the west. He started, and looked again. Two figures
were creeping almost on hands and knees across a moonlit patch of turf,
quite close to him.

'Keepers!' whispered Dick to himself. 'Here come the keepers!' for the
velveteens and gaiters of the crawling men announced who they were.
Dick was hidden in complete shade, and the patch of hazels where he lay
hid the new-comers both from the watcher and the working poachers.
Dick's heart gave a leap of joy.

'They'll attack at once,' he thought, 'and then I can get Chippy free.'

But to his surprise there was no attack. The two keepers glided into
shelter of a holly patch and vanished. There was neither sign nor
sound from them. Dick, of course, could not know that the keepers were
biding their time, for they wished to take the poachers in confusion,
and it was very likely the biters would be bit.

The truth was that an inkling of the raid had been gained from words
let fall by a drunken poacher in the village inn, and the pool had been
prepared. Across the middle of it a long weighted log had been sunk,
and in this log a number of old scythe blades, their edges whetted as
keen as razors, had been fixed in an upright position. The edges were
turned down-stream, and the keepers were waiting until the drag-net
should be brought upon this cunning engine of destruction.

Presently there was a hitch in the dragging.

'Wait a bit,' said one of the poachers; 'she's caught a bit somewheer
or other. Pull a bit harder, Young Bill.'

The navvy pulled hard, but to no purpose.

'It's out towards the middle o' the pool,' he growled, 'an' I dursn't
go a step fudder in. I'm nigh out o' my depth already.'

'We'll get on the bank,' said the other man who was in the water.
'We'll have a better purchase for a tug at her then.'

He climbed out on the farther side, and Young Bill cli