"What's a creeper?" "I say, young gentleman, where do you go to school?" said Josh in indignant tones. "London University," said the boy quickly. "Why?" "And you don't know what a creeper is?" "No," said the boy, laughing. "What is it?" "Oh! we call a small kind of grapnel, or four-armed anchor, a creeper," said Will. "Oh!" "Then when we've let down the line with one creeper we pay out the rest." "Pay out the rest?" "A mussy me!" said Josh to himself. "Well, run it out over the side of the boat we're in, and row away till we've got all the line with the baited hooks in." "Yes," said the boy eagerly; "and then you put down the other anchor. I see." "That's her," said Josh approvingly. "Well," said the boy excitedly, "and how do you know when you've got a bite?" "Oh! we don't know." "Then how do you catch your fish?" "They catch themselves," said Will. "We row then to the other end of the line and draw it up." "How do you know where it is?" "Why, by the buoy, of course," said Josh. "We always have a buoy, and you think that's a boy like you, I know." "Oh no! I don't," said Dick, shaking his head and laughing. "Come, I'm not such a Cockney as not to know what a b-u-o-y is. But, I say, what do you do then?" "Why, we get up the end of the line, and put fresh baits on when they're taken off, and take the fish into the boat when there are any." "Oh, I say, what fun! Here, when are you going to put in that line?" "Sundown," said Josh. "Here, I want to go," said our friend on the pier. "I'll give you a shilling if you'll take me." "No; we can't take you," said Josh grimly. "We should make you in such a mess you'd have to be washed." "There, Taff, I told you so," cried Dick. "Why don't you put on your flannels. I hate being dressed up at the sea-side!" he added to himself as his brother stalked impatiently away. "There, now, he's chuffy," said Dick, half to himself. "Oh! I do wish he wasn't so soon upset! Hi, Taff, old man, don't go, I'm coming soon. He had a bad illness once, you know," he said confidentially to Will; but his brother did not stop, walking slowly away along the pier, to be met by a tall, dark, keen-looking man of about forty who was coming from the inn. "I say," said Dick, who did not see the encounter at the shore end of the pier, "I _should_ like to come with you to-night." "Why, you'd be sea-sick," said Josh, laughing. "Oh, no! I shouldn't. I've been across the Channel eight times and not ill. I say, you'll let me come?" Will looked at Josh, who was turning the new wire binding of the gaff-hook into a file for the gentle rubbing of his nose. "Shall we take him, Josh?" said Will. "I don't mind," replied that worthy, "only he'll get in a gashly mess." "I don't mind," said Dick. "Flannels will wash. I'll put on my old ones, and--" "Why, Dick, what are you doing there?" cried the keen-looking man, who had come down the pier.