The next week passed, and the next, and more than one of the employes said a word or two to Will about how strange it seemed without James Drinkwater. They were not alone, for Mr Willows made the same remark to his son. "The place doesn't seem the same, Will, without James in his old place. By the way, have you seen anything of him since?" "Yes, father; Josh and I went up to take Mr Manners some flies, and James was in the garden digging; but, as soon as he saw me, he slipped away round by the back, and went off into the woods. Josh said that he shied at me." "But you, my boy? You didn't show any resentment for his behaviour to you?" "I? Oh, no: not I, father; I didn't mind. I knew he was in a temper. I should have gone and shaken hands with him if he had stopped." "Quite right, my boy. He'll be better soon, and come back, like the true, honest fellow he is, and ask to be taken on." "But what about his threats, father?" "Pooh!" ejaculated Mr Willows. "Mr Manners was right." One afternoon Josh came down as usual from the Vicarage, rod in hand. "What about fishing, Will?" he said. "There's a lot of fly out on the upper waters. Get your rod, and let's rout out old RA, and see if we can't show him some better sport than we had the other evening." "Ah, yes," said Will. "I believe he thought we took him where there wasn't a fish, just to play him a trick." "Yes, that comes of getting a bad character," said Josh. "He'll be treating us like the shepherds did the boy in the fable who cried `wolf!'" "Oh, bother! There were plenty of fish up there, only they had been having a good feed, and wouldn't rise." The boy hurried off to where his long, limber, trout rod was resting on three hooks, all ready with winch, taper line, and cast, under the eaves of the mill-shed nearest to the water. "What flies are you going to try?" said Josh. "Oh, black gnats." "No, I wouldn't," said Josh. "Red spinner is the one for to-night." "Ah, to be sure! Have you got any?" "Have you?" "Not one; but you have, or else you would not have proposed them." "Come on; but I say, doesn't it look black!" said Josh. "Yes, we shall have some rain to-night, I think," said Will; "and if it does come down and Bad Manners gets wet, he'll think it another trick!" The boys shouldered their rods, and went up upon the dam, whose waters looked deep and dark, and smooth as glass, save where here and there a big trout quietly sucked down some unfortunate fly, forming ever-expanding rings on the mirror-like surface. "My! There's a whopper!" cried Josh, as the fish broke the surface with a loud smack. "What are you going to do?" cried Will. "Do? Why, have a few throws; they are rising splendidly." "More reason why we should fetch old Manners." "All right," said Josh, securing his fly again to one of the lower rings of his rod, shouldering it, and following his companion along the ascending path leading to the cottage.