"I can do without it as well as you.

I am going to walk over to Whitstone Woods and back." "Hullo, that's a long trot," said Charlie.

"It must be nearly thirty miles." "Something like that," said Joe.

"Walcot and I are going to make a day of it." "Which way do you go ?" "Through Gurley, and then over Rushton Common and past Slingcomb." "Never! I wish I could do thirty miles at a stretch." "So you will some day.

Good-night." And Charlie went to bed, to dream of the lance-wood top of his rod and the trout in the Sharle.
In the meanwhile the conspirators had had another meeting in Drift's den.
"Well, have you hooked him ?" asked Gus.
"Yes; it's all right.