"So do I!" he said.
"Those two chaps are awful cads—dreadful cads!" continued Green, with much warmth; and again Tinkle nodded. He did not believe in the exertion of talking, unless it was absolutely necessary.
"I wonder," he said slowly, as he pushed back a particularly lively worm into the bait-tin—"I wonder, Jimmy, if we ought to tell what we know about that note? I often wonder that." But Jimmy was still firm upon that point.
"What's the good? If we had the note now we might do it. But suppose they treat us as they have treated Charlton, and say they did not go there? How are we to prove it? And we let out that we have been there ourselves. It ain't no good, Tinkle. I would tell if I thought it was; but it isn't, and there is no getting away from it."
"I suppose it ain't," was Tinkle's regretful answer. "Well, come on, Jimmy! I think we have got everything we want, and we may as well have all the time we can."
"Where shall we go?" inquired Jimmy Green.
"Oh, the pool below Becket Weir," answered Tinkle; "where Elgert nearly got drowned."
"Very well; come on, and let us see if we have any luck." And the two young anglers set out, little dreaming what a very queer fish they were going to catch that day.
And what of Elgert and Dobson? Mean lads that they were, they were delighted, and congratulated themselves upon their astuteness. True, they had not got possession of Ralph's papers, and had failed in so far as spoiling his chances for the medal went; but they had got Charlton into fine disgrace.