"That's a nice way of being elected! I say, have you any classes this afternoon?" "No; Mr Rastle has given us a half-holiday." "That's just the thing. I'm going to scull up the river a bit after dinner, and if you'd like you can come and steer for me." Stephen was delighted. Of all things he liked boating. They lived near a river at home, he said, and he always used to steer for Oliver there. So, as soon as dinner was over, the two went down to the boathouse and embarked. "Which way shall you row?" asked Stephen, as he made himself comfortable in the stern of the boat, and took charge of the rudder-lines. "Oh, up stream. Keep close in to the bank, out of the current." It was a beautiful afternoon, and Loman paddled lazily and luxuriously up, giving ample time to Stephen, if so inclined, to admire the wooded banks and picturesque windings of the Shar. Gusset Lock was reached in due time, and here Loman suggested that Stephen should get out and go round and look at the weir, while he went on and took the boat through. Stephen acceded and landed, and Loman paddled on to the lock. "Hello, maister," called down a feeble old voice, as he got up to the gate. "Hullo, Jeff, is Cripps about?" replied Loman. "Yas; he be inside or somewheres, maister," replied the old lock-keeper. "All right! take the boat up; I want to see Cripps." Cripps was the son of the old man whom Loman had addressed as Jeff. He was not exactly a gentleman, for he kept the Cockchafer public-house at Maltby, and often served behind the bar in his own person. Neither was he altogether a reputable person, for he frequently helped himself to an overdose of his own beverages, besides being a sharp hand at billiards, and possessing several packs of cards with extra aces in them. Neither was he a particularly refined personage, for his choice of words was often more expressive than romantic, and his ordinary conversation was frequently the reverse of edifying; it mainly had to do with details of the stable or the card-room, and the anecdotes with which he enlivened it were often "broader than they were long," to put it mildly. In short, Cripps was a blackguard by practice, whatever he was by profession. He had, however, one redeeming virtue; he was very partial to young gentlemen, and would go a good bit out of his way to meet one. He always managed to know of something that young gentlemen had a fancy for. He could put them into the way of getting a thoroughbred bull-dog dirt-cheap; he could put them up to all the tips at billiards and "Nap," and he could make up a book for them on the Derby or any other race, that was bound to win. And he did it all in such a pleasant, frank way that the young gentlemen quite fell in love with him, and entrusted their cash to him with as much confidence as if he were the Bank of England.