"Ah, he's waiting all right for his master!" exclaimed Phil, with a short grunt of satisfaction. "Good dog!--the best in the whole of Riddington. Now, you fellows," he went on, after having greeted his canine friend with a pat, "what's the order for to-day? We're all agreed to give that old concern an airing. The last time the good people of this town had a chance of looking at it was in the year of the queen's coronation; and that was thirteen years ago. It's getting musty, and must certainly have an airing." "That's exactly what we think, Phil," chimed in one of the other lads, a merry-looking youngster of fifteen. "Riddington started a state barge a hundred years ago, to take the mayor and councillors across the river to the church on great occasions. On other days they rowed over in ordinary boats or went by the bridge--when it wasn't washed away by the floods. Then a new stone bridge was built, and for a few years they kept up the old custom. But for a long while now it has fallen through--sunk into oblivion, as `old Tommy' would say. It is clearly our duty to revive this extremely interesting--I may say this unique-- old custom." "Bah! Stop it!" exclaimed Phil, with a laugh, snatching his comrade's hat from his head and throwing it at his face. "Tell me what arrangements you have made." "Simple. Simple as daylight, Phil. We saunter down to the river-side, and as soon as Peter looks the other way we enter the boat-house. Here's the key. It hangs over the pater's mantel-piece, where it has been for the last two years. He's keeper of the state barge and the bargemen's costumes." "Splendid, Tommy! Splendid! We'll be off at once. Come on, you fellows. Here, Rags!" Phil hurried off with his companions in mischief towards an old and somewhat dilapidated boat-house. The lad who had been addressed as Tommy slipped up to the door, and a few moments later all three entered and closed it behind them. A match was produced and a small piece of candle lighted. "This way, you fellows," cried Tommy, leading the way along a narrow shelf to the back of the house. Here there was a small room with a worm-eaten table and chairs and a heavy oak chest. "It's no use doing things by halves, is it?" asked Tommy, with a broad grin on his face. "Here, in this old chest, are all the costumes, and if we don't make that old barge look as well as it ever did, I shall be astonished." "You'll probably get licked, you mean," laughed Phil. "But, all the same, it's a splendid idea. We won't spoil the show for a ha'porth of tar. Let's see how these things fit."