I say, I wish I had my fly on the water this minute." As Tom was silent, Charlie kept up the conversation by himself.
"I say, Tom Drift," said he, "if your mother could only see us two chaps going off for a day's fishing she--" "Look here, draw it mild about my mother, young un.

She can take care of herself well enough." Charlie blushed to the roots of his hair at this rebuke, and for some time the flow of his conversation was arrested.
It was a good four miles from Randlebury to Sharle Bridge; and long ere they reached it Charlie's arm ached with the ponderous bag he was carrying.

He did not, however, like to say anything, still less to ask Tom to take a turn at carrying it; so he plodded on, changing hands every few minutes, and buoying himself up with the prospect of the river and the trout.
Presently they came within sight of the signpost which marks the junction of the Gurley and Sharle Bridge roads.
"Here we are at last!" cried Charlie, panting and puffing.

"I say, Tom Drift, I don't believe I could have carried this bag any farther if I'd tried." "It'll be lighter when we go home.

Hullo! who are these three ?" for at this moment Gus, Margetson, and Shadbolt made their appearance.
"They look like Randlebury fellows by their caps.