"I'm in for it, unless I can starve him out." And then he begins to meditate getting along the branch for a plunge, and scramble to the other side; but the small branches are so thick, and the opposite bank so difficult, that the keeper will have lots of time to get round by the ford before he can get out, so he gives that up.

And now he hears the keeper beginning to scramble up the trunk.

That will never do; so he scrambles himself back to where his branch joins the trunk; and stands with lifted rod.
"Hullo, Velveteens; mind your fingers if you come any higher." The keeper stops and looks up, and then with a grin says, "Oh! be you, be it, young measter?
Well, here's luck.

Now I tells 'ee to come down at once, and 't'll be best for 'ee." "Thank 'ee, Velveteens; I'm very comfortable," said Tom, shortening the rod in his hand, and preparing for battle.
"Werry well; please yourself," says the keeper, descending, however, to the ground again, and taking his seat on the bank.

"I bean't in no hurry, so you may take your time.