Part 10 (1/2)

”Hark at him!” said Manners. ”I should have thought he would be pleased.”

”What's the matter, Boil O?” asked Will. ”Did you get out of bed the wrong way this morning?”

”No, sir,” said the man, shortly.

”Oh,” said Will.

”Leave the sulky bear alone,” put in Josh.

”Be quiet,” said Will to his companion. ”I say, Boil O, old chap, when are you going to make me that fis.h.i.+ng-rod you promised?”

”Oh, I have no time to make fis.h.i.+ng-rods for boys,” said the man. ”I have to work.”

”Look at him. How busy he is!” cried Will, with mock seriousness, while the artist made a vermilion smudge on his canvas as the ground plan of a sunset.

”No, sir, no time. Your father keeps me too busy.”

”Shame,” said Will. ”Why, my father was saying only the other day that you had done so much good work for him all your life, that he would be very pleased to see you take things a bit easier now; so there.”

”'Tain't true,” said the man.

”What!” cried Will, his face growing very red. ”Don't you believe what I say?”

”Not that exactly; but you don't know all I've done--no more than Mr Willows does, nor Mr Manners.”

”Oh, doesn't he?” said Will.

”I know you to be a very faithful and good friend, Drinkwater,” said the artist, making a dab, and then leaning back in his chair with his head on one side to judge the effect.

”Look at him,” said Will, in a whisper, to Josh. ”He always wags his head like that when he's at work painting. What does he do it for?”

”Oh, I heard what you said,” continued the artist. ”I do it because I can judge distance better that way. But as I was saying, Drinkwater here is a very good friend indeed, and if it had not been for his kindness, my little accident would have been twice as annoying as it is.

Thanks to his help, I am able to go out painting and fis.h.i.+ng all the same, and I am very grateful to him.”

”I don't want that, master,” said the man. ”I don't want thanks;” and he slouched off, leaving the boys and the artist to continue the conversation.

”Surly old toad!” said Will. ”What's wrong with him?”

”Something must have put him out,” said the artist.

”But he's always getting into his nasty tempers.”

”Ah, well, he'll soon come round. He has been most thoughtful for me.”

”But I say, Mr Manners,” said Josh, ”you will be able to come fis.h.i.+ng to-night, won't you?”

”Don't know,” said the artist.

”Oh, yes,” cried Will. ”We will look after you; won't we, Josh?”