Burr Junior Part 10

"Wouldn't like!" cried Mercer excitedly.

"No, I thought you wouldn't," said the keeper. "There, I must be off."

"Oh, I say, Bob Hopley, do give us leave."

"What leave?"

"To have an hour or two in the hammer pond. There's a good chap, do!"

"The master mightn't like it. Not as he ever said I wasn't to let any one fish."

"Then let's go."

"No, my lads, I'm not going to give you leave," said the keeper, with a twinkle in his eyes; "but there's a couple o' rods and lines all right, under the thatch of the boat-house."

"Yes, Bob, but what about bait?"

"Oh, I don't know 'bout bait. P'r'aps there's some big worms in the moss in that old tin pot in the corner."

"Oh, Bob!" cried Mercer excitedly, while I felt my heart beat heavily.

"Yes, now I come to think of it, there is some worms in that tin pot, as I got to try for an eel or two."

"Then we may go?"

"Nay, nay, don't you be in a hurry. It won't do. Why, if I was to let you two go, you might catch some fish, a big carp, or a perch, or one of they big eels."

"Yes, of course we might."

"And if you did, you'd go right back to the school and tell young Magglin, and he'd be setting night lines by the score all over the pond."

"No; honour! We'll never say a word to him!" we cried.

"Then you'll tell all your schoolmates, and that big long hop-pole chap, what's his name?"

"Burr major," said Mercer eagerly.

"And that big fat-faced boy?"

"d.i.c.ksee?"

"Yes, that's him, and I'll give him d.i.c.ksee if he chucks stones at my Polly's hens. We shall be having 'em lay eggs with the sh.e.l.ls broke."

"Oh, nonsense, Bob! We won't tell."

"And them two, and all the others coming and wanting leave to go fis.h.i.+ng too."

"No, no, I tell you," cried Mercer, but the keeper, with a malicious twinkle in his eyes, kept on without heeding him.

"And half of 'em'll be falling in, and t'other half tumble after 'em to pull 'em out, and the whole school getting drowned, and then, what would the Doctor say?"

"I say, Jem Roff, just hark at him!" cried Mercer impatiently.

"Oh, if you don't want to hear me talk, I can keep my mouth shut. Good morning."

He nodded shortly, and, shouldering his gun, marched off.

"Oh, I say, isn't he provoking? and he never gave us leave.--Bob!"

No answer.

"Bob Hopley!"

But the keeper strode on without turning his head, and Mercer stood wrinkling up his forehead, the picture of despair.

"And there are such lots of fish in that pond," he cried, "and I did want to show my friend here, Jem Roff."

"Well, why don't you go, then? He's only teasing you."

"Think so," cried my companion, brightening up.

"Why, didn't he tell you where the rods and lines were, and the worms?

You go on and fish. I should."

"You would, Jem?"

"Of course."

"But there won't be time before dinner now," said Mercer thoughtfully.

"I say, are you hungry?"

"Not very," I said, "and I've got some biscuits left."

"Then come on," cried Mercer. "Don't tell him weave gone, Jem, and I will stuff that mag for you splendidly, see if I don't."

"I shan't see him, my lad. There, off you go."

"Yes: come on!" cried Mercer excitedly; "and--I say, Jem, lend us a basket."

"What for?"

"To put the fish in?"

"You go and ketch 'em first, lad, and by and by I'll come round that way with one under my arm, and you might give a fellow an eel, if you get one."

"You shall have all the eels, Jem."

"Thank-ye. Then look here! you bait one line with the biggest worms you can find, and do you know the penstock?"