We're going to have Tug's boat, and we'll be there in half-an-hour, so look alive." Dick, rather thankful to be able to get off unobserved, hurried off on his savoury errand.

He had scarcely once gone down town since the affair of Tom White's boat, and certainly not since the alarming paragraphs in the _Observer_ had taken to appearing.

But he comforted himself with the reflection that Tom was at present on the high seas, and that no one else appeared to have any suspicion which would connect him (Dick) with the mysterious lad who had been seen on the Strand on the eventful night last June.
For all that, he dawdled not a moment longer than he could help.

Green had the worms ready.
"So you're going for a day's sport, are you ?" said he.

"It's a good day, too, and the whiting ought to be plentiful off the rock." "I hope they will," said Dick.
"They've been let alone the last week or two," said the bait merchant, "since our chaps have been out in the deep, so you've a fair chance." "When will the boats be back ?" asked Dick, rather nervously.
"We should have seen some of them this morning, but the wind's dropped.
Maybe it will be afternoon before they come in." "It's always a great day when they come in, isn't it ?" asked the boy.
"Depends on the catch.