n nodded his satisfaction.

By this time they were close to the harbour, where, being recognised by
several of the fishermen, there was a friendly nod or two, and a smile
from first one and then another, and a hearty sing-song "Good-morning!"
before they reached the middle of the pier, close up to which the lugger
was moored. Josh and Will were upon deck discussing what was to be done
to the boat, partly stove in by the steamer on the previous evening;
whether to try and patch her up themselves or to let her go to the boat
hospital just beyond the harbour head, where old Isaac Pentreath, the
boat-builder, put in new linings and put out new skins, and supplied
schooners and brigs with knees or sheathing or tree-nail or copper bolt.
He could furnish a stranger with boat or yacht to purchase or on hire.

"Mornin', sir!" sang out Josh. "Mornin', Master Richard, sir! None the
worse for last night's work, eh?"

"No, I'm all right, Josh," said Dick. "Good-morning, Will! I say, you
lost all the fish and the tackle last night, didn't you?"

"We lost all the fish, sir; but the tackle was all right; a bit tangled
up, that's all."

"Oars is the worst of it," said Josh, "only they was old uns. Will and
me's got a good pair, though, from up at Pentreath's. Game out of a
French lugger as was wrecked."

"I want to have a look round at some of the old mine-shafts, my man,"
said Mr Temple. "Who can you tell me of as a good guide?"

"Josh, sir," said Will.

"Will, sir," said Josh.

"Josh knows all of them for three or four miles round."

"Not half so well as Will, sir. He's always 'vestigatin' of 'em," cried
Josh.

"You, my lad?" said Mr Temple, turning sharply on Will, whose brown
face grew red.

"Yes, sir; I have a look at them sometimes."

"Prospecting, eh?" said Mr Temple, smiling.

"We could both go if you like, sir," said Josh. "We could row you to
Blee Vor, and to Oldman's Wheal and Blackbay Consols and Dynan Reor, and
take you over the cliff to Revack and Rendullow and Saint Grant's."

"Why, Dick," said Mr Temple, "we have hit upon the right guides. When
will you be at liberty, my lad?"

"Any time, sir, you like. We ain't going out with, our boots for the
next few days."

"Not going out with your boots?" said Dick.

"Boots, not boots," said Josh, grinning. "I don't mean boots as you put
on your foots, but boots that you sail in--luggers, like this."

"Oh! I see," said Dick.

"A mussy me!" mu