Tom, Dick and Harry | Page 8

precisely.
"Well," said he, "you told about as much as you could. How sorry you
must have been not to tell more!"
"Don't, Dicky;" said I; "I--I--"
"You're almost as big an ass as you look," said Dicky, "and that's

saying something. Come and see my experiment."
I was not in a scientific mood, but anything was welcome to change the
subject. So I took Dicky's arm and went.
Dicky was a queer boy. He was of an inventive turn of mind, and given
up to science. His experiments rarely succeeded, and when they did
they almost invariably landed him in disgrace. Still he persevered and
hoped some day to make a hit.
He explained to me, as we walked down the garden, that he had lately
been taking an interest in the pond.
It was all I could do to appear only moderately interested in this
announcement. Had not I an interest in the pond too? What followed
was even more uncomfortable.
"You know Lesseps and all those chaps?" said he.
"He left before I came, I think," said I.
Dicky laughed unfeelingly.
"I mean the chap who cut the Suez Canal," said he.
"Oh! I beg your pardon," said I. "No, I don't know him."
"Well, I've been having a go in at the same kind of job," continued
Dicky. "You know what a drop there is at the end of the pond, where
you saw me yesterday, in the shrubbery? Well, it struck me it wouldn't
take much engineering to empty it."
"What!" I exclaimed, "empty the pond! You'll get in an awful row,
Dicky. Don't think of it."
"Think--it's done, I tell you," said the man of science. "That was what I
was at when you saw me."
"I thought you were digging up primroses."

"Digging up grandmothers! I was letting in a pipe to drain it. It was a
rare job to shove it in from the bottom corner of the pond through the
bank into the shrubbery. But I managed it. It was coming through like
one o'clock when I left. I expect the pond will be empty by this time."
I quailed with horror. If so, I should be discovered. I was tempted to
turn tail: but that would be even worse. The only thing was to stay and
see it through.
I confronted myself with the reflection that Dicky's experiments so
rarely succeeded, that in all probability the pistol still lay safe under
four feet of water. If not--
"Hooray!" exclaimed Dicky, as we came in sight of the place; "it's done
the trick this time. See, Tom!"
I did see. In place of the water I left there in the morning was a large
empty basin of mud, with a few large puddles of water lying at the
bottom, and a few hillocks of mud denoting the places which had once
been shallows.
My quick eye hurriedly took in the dismal landscape. For a moment my
spirits rose, for I could nowhere discern the compromising object I
dreaded to see. It was no doubt buried in the mud, and as safe as if the
pond were full to the brim.
"Isn't it ripping?" said Dicky. "It wasn't easy to do, but it only wanted a
little management. I mean to go in for engineer-- Hullo, what's that
rummy stone out there? or is it a stone, or a fish, or-- I say, Tom," he
added, clutching my arm, "I'm bothered if that's not a pistol!"
My white face and chattering teeth made reply unnecessary. There,
snugly perched on a little heap of stones, as if set up for inspection, lay
the unlucky pistol, gleaming in the afternoon sun.
Dicky looked first at the pistol, then at me; and began slowly to take in
the state of affairs.

He took a cautious step out in the mud in the direction of the weapon,
but came back.
"I thought you could hardly be chucking in all those things for fun,"
said he presently.
I stood gaping in an imbecile way, and said nothing.
"I know whose it is. He had it up here once before."
"I say," gulped I, "can't you let the water in again?" Dick had not
considered this. His triumph had been letting the water out. However,
he would see what could be done.
We went down into the shrubbery. About a foot of water lay on the
ground, promising great fertility some day, but decidedly
muddy-looking to-day.
"The thing will be to bung up the hole first," said Dicky.
So we set to work to hammer up the end of the zinc pipe and stuff the
aperture round with sods and stones. I even sacrificed my cap to the
good cause.
The bell began to ring before we had well completed the