He explained to me, as we walked down the garden, that he had lately been taking an interest in the pond. It was all I could do to appear only moderately interested in this announcement. Had not I an interest in the pond too? What followed was even more uncomfortable. "You know Lesseps and all those chaps?" said he. "He left before I came, I think," said I. Dicky laughed unfeelingly. "I mean the chap who cut the Suez Canal," said he. "Oh! I beg your pardon," said I. "No, I don't know him." "Well, I've been having a go in at the same kind of job," continued Dicky. "You know what a drop there is at the end of the pond, where you saw me yesterday, in the shrubbery? Well, it struck me it wouldn't take much engineering to empty it." "What!" I exclaimed, "empty the pond! You'll get in an awful row, Dicky. Don't think of it." "Think--it's done, I tell you," said the man of science. "That was what I was at when you saw me." "I thought you were digging up primroses." "Digging up grandmothers! I was letting in a pipe to drain it. It was a rare job to shove it in from the bottom corner of the pond through the bank into the shrubbery. But I managed it. It was coming through like one o'clock when I left. I expect the pond will be empty by this time." I quailed with horror. If so, I should be discovered. I was tempted to turn tail: but that would be even worse. The only thing was to stay and see it through. I confronted myself with the reflection that Dicky's experiments so rarely succeeded, that in all probability the pistol still lay safe under four feet of water. If not-- "Hooray!" exclaimed Dicky, as we came in sight of the place; "it's done the trick this time. See, Tom!" I did see. In place of the water I left there in the morning was a large empty basin of mud, with a few large puddles of water lying at the bottom, and a few hillocks of mud denoting the places which had once been shallows. My quick eye hurriedly took in the dismal landscape. For a moment my spirits rose, for I could nowhere discern the compromising object I dreaded to see. It was no doubt buried in the mud, and as safe as if the pond were full to the brim. "Isn't it ripping?" said Dicky. "It wasn't easy to do, but it only wanted a little management. I mean to go in for engineer-- Hullo, what's that rummy stone out there? or is it a stone, or a fish, or-- I say, Tom," he added, clutching my arm, "I'm bothered if that's not a pistol!" My white face and chattering teeth made reply unnecessary. There, snugly perched on a little heap of stones, as if set up for inspection, lay the unlucky pistol, gleaming in the afternoon sun. Dicky looked first at the pistol, then at me; and began slowly to take in the state of affairs. He took a cautious step out in the mud in the direction of the weapon, but came back. "I thought you could hardly be chucking in all those things for fun," said he presently.