"Oh, let them come," interposed Archie. "I'll look after them."
Hugh still seemed inclined to hold back; but the squire settled the matter by saying,—
"Take them with you this time, Hugh, and if they prove to be a bother they need not go again until they are old enough to take care of themselves."
"All right, sir! We'll take them.—But mind you, youngsters"—turning to the twins—"you must behave just as if you were at church."
Black Run was the chief outlet of the lake on which Maplebank, the Stewart house, was situated. Here its superabundance poured out through a long deep channel leading to a tumultuous rapid that foamed fiercely over dangerous rocks before settling down into good behaviour again. The largest and finest fish were sure to be found in or about Black Run. But then it was full six miles away from Maplebank, and an expedition there required a whole day to be done properly, so that the Stewart boys did not get there very often.
The Saturday to which all four boys were looking eagerly forward proved as fine as heart could wish, and after an early breakfast they started off. Hugh and Archie took the oars, the twins curled up on the stern-sheets, where their elder brother could keep his eye upon them, and away they went at a long steady stroke that in two hours brought them to their destination.
"Where'll be the best place to anchor, Hugh?" asked Archie, as he drew in his oars, and prepared to throw over the big stone that was to serve them as a mooring.
"Out there, I guess," answered Hugh, pointing to a spot about fifty yards above the head of the run.
"Oh, that's too far away; we won't catch any fish there," objected Archie, who was not at all of a cautious temperament. "Let's anchor just off that point."
Hugh shook his head. "Too close, I'm afraid, Archie. The current's awfully strong, you know, and we'd be sure to drift."