It's a prime town, isn't it, Margetson ?" "Don't ask me," said Margetson; "I'd sooner see about Gurley than catch a seven-pounder, any day." "And besides," said Tom, "isn't there some good fishing above the lock! Come along, Charlie; we shall not be baulked of our day's sport after all." Charlie joined the party, although he did not conceive any great admiration for Tom's three friends.

His anxiety not to offend his now reconciled enemy, and the possibility of fishing after all, overruled him; and still dragging the bag, he trudged along with the others towards Gurley.
As they approached the town he could not help noticing the number of holiday-makers and vehicles that passed them.

There were drags full of gaily-dressed ladies; and gentlemen who wore veils; and there were light jaunty dog-carts with spruce young white-hatted gentlemen perched in them; there were vans in which corks were popping like musketry fires and parties on foot like themselves, hurrying forward with loud laughter and coarse music.
"Surely," thought he, "there's something on at Gurley." Presently a waggonette, driven by a very loud youth in a check suit, and with an enormous cigar in his mouth, pulled up in passing, and its driver addressed Gus.
"So you've found _your_ way here, have you, my young bantam?
Catch _you_ being out of a good thing.

Are you going on the grand stand ?" "Don't know," said Gus grandly.

"We may pick up a trap in the town." "Ho, ho! going to do it flash, are you?
Well, there's one of you could do with a little spice," added he, glancing at Charlie.