at the weir?--yes. But I'm out of love with weirs at present.
I shudder every time I think of that one up the Thames."

"It wasn't pleasant, certainly," said Wraysford.

"Pleasant! Old man, if you hadn't been there it would have been a good
deal worse than unpleasant. Poor Stee!"

"Pull your left, Greenfield senior, or you'll be into the bank!" sung
out Paul.

They paddled on again until Gusset Lock came in sight. There were very
few boats about; the season was, in fact, at an end, and the river,
which a month or two ago had generally swarmed with boats just at this
part on Saturday afternoons, looked quite deserted.

"Shall we go through the lock or turn round?" inquired Paul.

"May as well turn, eh, Wray?"

Paul was about to obey the order and turn the boat, when, casting his
eyes on the bank, he started suddenly to his feet and exclaimed,
pointing towards the lock-house, "Hullo! I say, there's something up
there!"

The two others looked round; something more lively than usual was
undoubtedly taking place at old Mr Cripps's residence, to judge by the
shouts and laughter which proceeded from the group of people assembled
near the door.

From where they were the boys in the boat could not see what the nature
of the excitement was, and therefore paddled on with a view to satisfy
their curiosity.

As they came up to the lock Paul suddenly exclaimed, "That's young
Greenfield!"

"What!" said Oliver--"Stephen?"

"Yes, and--what _on earth_ are they doing to him?"

The boat being low down under the bank, it was impossible to see what
was going on on the tow-path. Oliver, however, having once heard
Stephen's name, ordered Paul to put them into the opposite bank quick,
where they could land.

While this was being done a shriek from the bank sent the blood suddenly
to the faces of the two friends. It was Stephen! They dashed ashore,
and in a moment were across the lock and on the spot. The spectacle
which met their eyes as they came up was a strange one. The central
figure was the luckless Stephen, in the clutches of three or four
disreputable fellows, one of whom was Cripps the younger, who, with loud
laughter at the boy's struggles and brutal unconcern at his terror, were
half dragging, half carrying him towards the water's edge.

Beside them stood Loman, flushed, excited, and laughing loudly. Poor
Stephen, very unlike himself, appeared to be utterly cowed and
terrified, and uttered shriek upon s