"What a nuisance!" ejaculated Herbert. "One can't talk to him before the girls. I want twenty-five shillings from him. Markham has the primest fishing-rod to sell, and I must have it."
"Twenty-five shillings for a fishing-rod!" cried Anthony.
"And cheap at the price," answered Herbert. "You don't often see so complete a thing as this. Markham would not part with it—it's a relic of his better days, he says—only his old mother wants some comfort or other which he can't otherwise afford. The case——"
"You have half-a-dozen fishing-rods already."
"Half a dozen rubbish! That's what they are, compared with this one. It's no business of yours, Anthony."
"Not at all. But you'll oblige me, Herbert, by not bothering the governor for money to-night. I have been asking him for some, and it has put him out."
"Did you get it?"
Anthony nodded.
"Then you'll let me have the one-pound-five, Anthony?"
"I can't," returned Anthony. "I shall have a cheque to-morrow, and I must pay it away whole. That won't clear me. But I didn't dare to tell of more."