The tone in which the word was spoken was very like that which Giant Blunderbore may have used when dinner was announced.

However, he summoned up courage to hold out his hand, and was surprised to find how gently Rollitt grasped it.
"I didn't mean to hurt you with the stones," he said.
"You didn't.

Come and look for the boat, Fisher minor." "He knows my name then," soliloquised the minor, beginning to recover a little from his panic.

"I hope nobody will see me." The boat was found bottom upwards--a wreck, with its side stove in, entangled in a mass of flotsam and jetsam which had gathered in one of the side eddies below the waterfall.
"Haul in, Fisher minor," growled Rollitt, surveying the wreck.
With difficulty they got it ashore and turned it right side up.
"Rod, flies, net, all gone," said Rollitt, half angry; "and fish too." "It was such a beauty, the trout you hooked.

I wish you'd got it.