Chapter Fifteen.
An Exploring Trip along beneath the Cliffs of the Rocky Shore.
Josh and Will were in waiting with the boat, not the one that had been used on the previous night, for it had been determined to send that in to hospital, but a rather larger and lighter boat, belonging to Uncle Abram; and this had been carefully mopped out, with the result that there were not quite so many fish-scales visible, though even now they were sticking tenaciously as acorn barnacles to every level spot.
“All ready, sir,” said Will, coming forward; “and my uncle says you’re welcome to a boat whenever there’s one in, and that as to payment, you’re to please give our man Josh a trifle, and that’s all.”
Mr Temple was about to make an objection, but he determined to see Uncle Abram, as he was called, himself, and he at once went down the steps and into the boat.
“Dick,” said Arthur, plucking at his brother’s sleeve, “what’s that fisher-fellow grinning at? Is there anything particular about my clothes?”
“No. He was only smiling because he was glad to see you. There, go along down.”
Josh, who had been spoken of as “that fisher-fellow,” endorsed Dick’s words by singing just as if it was a Gregorian chant: