that Mr. Wayring would provide a house and garden for them. If they proved to be objectionable in any way, it would be an easy matter to get rid of them.
Shortly after Mr. Hastings passed out of sight Matt Coyle wanted a drink; and he found it not in the lake, or in the ice-cold spring from which the guides obtained their supply of water, but in a jug which he fished out from a lot of miscellaneous rubbish in the punt. After he had quenched his thirst he passed the jug over to his wife and boys, the whole proceeding being witnessed by Nat Clark, the oldest man and best guide and boatman in the settlement, who was getting his skiff ready to take out a fishing party from one of the hotels.
"Look a yer, friend," said Nat. "What you got into that there jug o' your'n?"
"The best kind o' whisky," answered Matt Coyle, cheerfully. "An' I've got as much as half a bar'l more in the punt. Want a drop?"
"Not much," replied Nat, emphatically. "An' if you're goin' to stay about yer, you'd best knock in the head of that there bar'l an'
