"Oh, 'AVE you, indeed!" said the man. "We'll soon see about that." And
he came across his deck and began to climb down the side of his barge.

"Oh, come away, Peter, come away!" said Bobbie and Phyllis, in agonised
unison.

"Not me," said Peter, "but YOU'D better."

The girls climbed to the top of the bank and stood ready to bolt for
home as soon as they saw their brother out of danger. The way home lay
all down hill. They knew that they all ran well. The Bargee did not look
as if HE did. He was red-faced, heavy, and beefy.

But as soon as his foot was on the towing-path the children saw that
they had misjudged him.

He made one spring up the bank and caught Peter by the leg, dragged him
down--set him on his feet with a shake--took him by the ear--and said
sternly:--

"Now, then, what do you mean by it? Don't you know these 'ere waters is
preserved? You ain't no right catching fish 'ere--not to say nothing of
your precious cheek."

Peter was always proud afterwards when he remembered that, with the
Bargee's furious fingers tightening on his ear, the Bargee's crimson
countenance close to his own, the Bargee's hot breath on his neck, he
had the courage to speak the truth.

"I WASN'T catching fish," said Peter.

"That's not YOUR fault, I'll be bound," said the man, giving Peter's ear
a twist--not a hard one--but still a twist.

Peter could not say that it was. Bobbie and Phyllis had been holding
on to the railings above and skipping with anxiety. Now suddenly Bobbie
slipped through the railings and rushed down the bank towards Peter, so
impetuously that Phyllis, following more temperately, felt certain that
her sister's descent would end in the waters of the canal. And so it
would have done if the Bargee hadn't let go of Peter's ear--and caught
her in his jerseyed arm.

"Who are you a-shoving of?" he said, setting her on her feet.

"Oh," said Bobbie, breathless, "I'm not shoving anybody. At least, not
on purpose. Please don't be cross with Peter. Of course, if it's your
canal, we're sorry and we won't any more. But we didn't know it was
yours."

"Go along with you," said the Bargee.

"Yes, we will; indeed we will," said Bobbie, earnestly; "but we do beg
your pardon--and really we haven't caught a single fish. I'd tell you
directly if we had, honour bright I would."

She held out her hands and Phyllis turned out her little empty pocket to
show that really they hadn't any fish concealed about them.

"Wel