CHAPTER TWELVE.
KIDNAPPING.
Percy Rimbolt, despite his unusual literary labours of the past evening, rose promptly when Walker knocked at his door at six o'clock, and arrayed himself once more in his flannels.
The storm of the night, which had disturbed Jeffreys and his dog five miles away, had not spread as far as Wildtree, and the early summer sun was already hot as he sallied forth with his waterproof over one arm, and his dozen ash sticks under the other in the direction of the river.
Kennedy, at the lodge, was considerably astonished to be awakened by a shower of gravel against his window, and to perceive, on looking out, the young master in full fishing order standing below, "Kennedy, Appleby's going to leave some things here for me about twelve o'clock.
Mind you're in, and wait till I come for them.

And if Raby comes, tell her I'll be up about then; tell her not to go away." "Do you want me down at the river, sir ?" asked the old keeper.
"No, keep away; and don't let any one else come below Rodnet Bridge." With which injunction the youthful man of science went on his way, leaving Kennedy to shake his head and wonder what little game the young master was up to now.
Percy plodded on a couple of miles down the stream, considerably beyond the park boundaries, till he reached Rodnet Bridge, under which the mountain torrent slipped in a swift, deep stream.

Just below the bridge, among the trees which crowded down to the water's edge, was a little hut, used by the Wildtree keepers for depositing their baskets and nets, but now appropriated by the young heir of Wildtree for far more important purposes.
It was here, in fact, that during the last two days he had conceived, and begun to put into practice, the never-before-heard-of invention of a machine for enabling a swimmer to swim up-stream at the rate of eight to ten miles an hour! Percy's recent career had been made up of a large number of magnificent projects, admirable in every respect but one--they never quite came off.
Just as they neared perfection they "gave out," and something new took their place.

It would be treason, however, to hint that the "anti- current swimmer" was ever likely to give out.

There certainly seemed no signs of it in the manner in which the inventor set about his task that morning.