dent course of
action.

Briefly, it was this. Since dramatic accident and rescue would not
happen of its own accord, I would arrange one for myself. Hawk looked
to me the sort of man who would do anything in a friendly way for a
few shillings.

* * * * *

That afternoon I interviewed Mr. Hawk at the Net and Mackerel.

"Hawk," I said to him darkly, over a mystic and conspirator-like pot,
"I want you, the next time you take Professor Derrick out
fishing"--here I glanced round, to make sure that we were not
overheard--"to upset him."

His astonished face rose slowly from the rim of the pot, like a full
moon.

"What 'ud I do that for?" he gasped.

"Five shillings, I hope," said I; "but I am prepared to go to ten."

He gurgled.

I argued with the man. I was eloquent, but at the same time concise.
My choice of words was superb. I crystallized my ideas into pithy
sentences which a child could have understood.

At the end of half an hour he had grasped all the salient points of
the scheme. Also he imagined that I wished the professor upset by way
of a practical joke. He gave me to understand that this was the type
of humor which was to be expected from a gentleman from London. I am
afraid he must at one period of his career have lived at one of those
watering places to which trippers congregate. He did not seem to think
highly of the Londoner.

I let it rest at that. I could not give my true reason, and this
served as well as any.

At the last moment he recollected that he, too, would get wet when the
accident took place, and raised his price to a sovereign.

A mercenary man. It is painful to see how rapidly the old simple
spirit is dying out in rural districts. Twenty years ago a fisherman
would have been charmed to do a little job like that for a shilling.

THE BRAVE PRESERVER

XI

I could have wished, during the next few days, that Mr. Harry Hawk's
attitude toward myself had not been so unctuously confidential and
mysterious. It was unnecessary, in my opinion, for him to grin
meaningly whenever he met me in the street. His sly wink when we
passed each other on the Cob struck me as in indifferent taste. The
thing had been definitely arranged (half down and half when it was
over), and there was no need for any cloak and dark-lantern effects. I
objected strongly to being treated as the villain of a melodrama. I
was merely an ordinary well-meaning man, forced by circu