“I told you so,” quoth Mr. Inspector, pulling off his outer coat, and leaning well over the stern with a will. “Come!”

It was an awful sort of fishing, but it no more disconcerted Mr. Inspector than if he had been fishing in a punt on a summer evening by some soothing weir high up the peaceful river. After certain minutes, and a few directions to the rest to “ease her a little for’ard,” and “now ease her a trifle aft,” and the like, he said composedly, “All clear!” and the line and the boat came free together.

Accepting Lightwood’s proffered hand to help him up, he then put on his coat, and said to Riderhood, “Hand me over those spare sculls of yours, and I’ll pull this in to the nearest stairs. Go ahead you, and keep out in pretty open water, that I mayn’t get fouled again.”

His directions were obeyed, and they pulled ashore directly; two in one boat, two in the other.