Their talk was of Thomas White, for whom it was well he was not within earshot.

They arrested him, tried him, sentenced him, flogged him, transported him, and yet were not satisfied.
"You know, Georgie," said Dick, working himself into a fury, "he collared my mother's photograph! the low cad! I'd be a beast if I didn't pay him out." "Rather! and I'll back you up, old man.

I was going to get a tennis-bat with that twelve bob; the blackguard!" About a mile from home the lights of Templeton hove in sight; but still our heroes' talk was of Tom White and the next assizes.
They had the beach to themselves, with only a few stranded boats for company, over whose anchors they had to pick their way gingerly.
"The tide's coming in at a lick," said Dick.

"Half an hour later, we should have had to tramp on the soft sand-- Lookout, you duffer!" The last remark was caused by Heathcote tripping over a rope, and coming down all fours on the wet sand.
"Bother that rope," said he, "I never saw it.

I say, it's rather a small one for that big boat, isn't it ?" "It is," said Dick, walking round to the stern of the boat in question, "its-- Hallo, I say, Georgie, look here!" Georgie looked in the direction of Dick's finger, and read the words, "'_Martha_,' _Thomas White, Templeton_" on the stern of the boat.
Both boys whistled.