The boat was found bottom upwards—a wreck, with its side stove in, entangled in a mass of flotsam and jetsam which had gathered in one of the side eddies below the waterfall.

“Haul in, Fisher minor,” growled Rollitt, surveying the wreck.

With difficulty they got it ashore and turned it right side up.

“Rod, flies, net, all gone,” said Rollitt, half angry; “and fish too.”

“It was such a beauty, the trout you hooked. I wish you’d got it. You nearly had it too when you had to jump out,” ventured Fisher.

Rollitt looked down almost amiably at the speaker. Had the boy studied for weeks he could not have made a more conciliatory speech.

“Can’t be helped,” said the senior. “Might have been worse. Thanks again. Come and see Mrs Wisdom.”

Mrs Wisdom was a decent young widow woman in whom the Fellsgarth boys felt a considerable interest. Her husband, late gamekeeper at Shargle Lodge, had always had a civil word for the young gentlemen, especially those addicted to sport, by whom he had been looked up to as a universal authority and ally. In addition to his duties at the Lodge, which were very ill paid, he had eked out his slender income by the help of a boat, which he kept on the lower reach below the falls, and which was, in the season, considerably patronised by the schoolboys. When last season he met his death over one of the cliffs of Hawk’s Pike, every one felt sympathy for the widow and her children, who were thus left homeless and destitute. An effort was made, chiefly by the School authorities, to get her some laundry work, and find her a home in one of the little cottages on the School farm, near the river; while the boys made it almost a point of honour never to hire another boat down at the lake if Mrs Wisdom’s was to be had.

Last week the boat had been brought up to the cottage on a cart, to be repainted for the coming season, and while here Rollitt had begged the use of it for this particular afternoon to fish from in the upper reach.

“Take care of her, Master Rollitt,” said the widow; “she’s a’most all I’ve got left, except the children. My John, he did say the upper reach was no water for boats.”