And so it proved; for as the water in the inclosure sank lower and lower the small fry were seen no more, but a swirl here and there showed that one, if not more, good-sized fish were left, and in the antic.i.p.ation of a good catch we hopped about from stone to stone, and clambered along the hurdles.

"Hooray!" shouted Bob, who was now in a high state of delight, "isn't this better than learning our jolly old _hic_--_haec_--_hoc_, eh, Sep?"

"I should think so."

"Oh!"

There was a shout and a splash and we two roared with laughter, for Bigley had just then made a jump to gain a stone standing clear of the falling water, when, not allowing for the slippery sea-weed that grew upon it in a patch, his feet glided over the smooth stone and he came down in a sitting position in the water, which flew out in spray on all sides.

"Here! Hi! Net!--net!" shouted Bob. "Come on, Sep, here's such a big one--a Bigley big one. It's a shark, I know it is. Look at his teeth!"

"It's all very well to laugh," said Bigley, getting up and standing knee-deep in the water to squeeze the moisture out of the upper part of his clothes, "but how would you like it?"

"Ever so," cried Bob; "I'm as hot as hot. Mind how you go near him, Sep, he'll bite. Oh, don't I wish I had a boat-hook, I'd fetch him out."

"I don't care. It's only sea-water. I don't mind," grumbled Bigley wading about in the pool. "I say, boys, here's a salmon and a whole lot of mullet."

"Where, where?" cried Bob, and, without a moment's hesitation he jumped in and waded towards Bigley.

"There! Can't you see 'em? There they go!" cried Bigley pointing.

"No."

"Why, out yonder! They're lying there quiet now amongst the stones."

"Oh, won't I give it you for this, old Big!" cried Bob. "There are no fish there at all. You gammoned me to make me come in and get my legs wet like yours are. Never mind, I'll serve you out."

"Why, there are some fish," cried Bigley indignantly.

"Don't you believe him, Sep," said Bob. "It's all nonsense."

"Yes, there are," I said from where I had climbed over the deepest part by clinging to the hurdles, "I can see them."

"Oh no, you can't, my lad. You'd like me to come splashing through the water there for you to laugh at me, but it won't do. There isn't a single fish in the place, only old Bigley--old Babby as his father calls him. I say, Sep, what a game! Did you ever see such a babby?"

"Don't do that," said Bigley sharply.

"Don't do what?--splash you?" cried Bob. "There--and there."

He suited the action to the word, and scooping up the water, he sent it flying over our tall schoolmate.

"You know what I mean," said Bigley, speaking in a low angry tone such as I had never before heard from him.

"Why, what do you mean?" cried Bob offensively. "Do you want me to thrash you?"

"I want you to leave my father alone, and what he says to me," said Bigley sharply. "I don't mind your making fun of me. I don't mind what you call me; but that's his name he has always used since I was a little baby, and you've no business to say it."

"Ha--ha--ha!" laughed Bob, "here's a game. Do you hear, Sep! He says he was once a little baby. I don't believe it. Ha--ha--ha!"

Bigley did not take any notice, and I did not join in the laugh, so Bob made a movement as if he were going to wade out of the pool, and his lips parted to say something disagreeable. I knew as well as could be that he was going to say that he should go home if we were about to turn like that; but his legs were wet, and the walk home was long, and not pleasant to take alone. And then there were the fish in the pool to catch, and in spite of his expressions of unbelief he knew that there must be some. So he altered his mind, and changed his tone.

"I didn't want to upset you, Big, old matey," he said. "I didn't, did I, Sep Duncan? Here, what's the good of quarrelling when it's holidays?

There, I won't call you so any more."

Bigley's face cleared in a moment, and with a couple of splashes he was at Bob's side with one hand extended, and the other upon his school-fellow's shoulder.

"It's all right," he said quickly. "Shake hands, and let's get the fish. There, I'll go for the prawn net and a basket."

He ran splashing out of the water, and up over the boulders towards the cottage, leaving me and Bob together.

"I wouldn't be as big as he is," said Bob, "and I wouldn't have such a nasty temper for thousands of pounds. Here, what are you grinning at?"

"At you." For there was something so comic in his speech, coming as it did from the most ill-tempered boy in the school--Dr Stacey had often said so, and Bob proved it every day of his life--that I burst into a hearty laugh.

Bob stood knee-deep in the water staring hard at me. For the first few moments he looked furious; then he seemed to grow sulky, and then in a low surly voice he said:

"I say, Sep, it isn't true, is it?"

"Isn't what true?"

"About the--about what old stay-sail said?"

"About you being disagreeable?"

"Yes. It isn't true, is it?"

I nodded.

"I don't believe it," he said impetuously. "I'm as good-tempered a chap as anybody, only people turn disagreeable with me. Well, you are a pretty mate to turn against me like that."

"I don't turn against you, Bob, and I don't mind your being disagreeable," I said; "but you asked me, and I told you the truth."

Bob stood quite still and thoughtful, as if he were watching the fishes, and he began to whistle softly a very miserable old tune that the shepherds sang out on the moor--one which always suggested winter to me and driving rain and cold bleak winds.

"Look here!" I said, for the water was draining away fast out of the pool now, the stones that banked up the bottom of the woven hurdle-work being visible here and there.

But Bob did not move. He stood there with his hands deep in his pockets and the water up to his knees still, the part where he was being deeper, and he kept on whistling softly to himself.

"Why can't you look, Bob?" I said. "You can see the fishes quite plain."

"I don't want to see 'em," he replied sulkily. "When are you going home?"

"Oh, not forever so long; not till tea-time. Here comes Big!"

Bob did not look round, but his ears seemed to twitch as the sound of our schoolmates' heavy tread came over the stones, for he lumbered along at a trot with a big maund, as we called the baskets there, in one hand, a great landing-net in the other. But as Bigley came to the edge of the pool Bob waded out and said in a low quiet voice:

"Shall I carry the basket?"

We both stared, for in an ordinary way Bob would have shouted, "Here, give us hold of the net," and s.n.a.t.c.hed at it or anything else in his desire to take the lead.