"H'm," said the farmer, with a short laugh. "He don't want much _drawing_, I fancy. And as for his promises--I've had enough of Tuvvy's promises." Dennis looked crestfallen. He had not expected this. "Won't you try him just this _once_ more?" he pleaded. "Now, look here, Master Dennis," said the farmer; "you know most of my men. They don't call me a hard master, do they?" "No," replied Dennis; "they say the gaffer's very kind." "Well, but there's another thing I've got to think of besides kindness, and that's justice. It isn't fair, you see, to the other men to let Tuvvy off. Why, if I did, I shouldn't have a steady workman about the place soon, and serve me right. They'd say: `There's that chap Tuvvy can do as he likes, and drink and leave his master in the lurch, and yet he's no worse off. Why shouldn't we do the same? What's the good of being sober and steady, and sticking to our work, if we don't get anything by it?'" "But I'm sure," said Dennis eagerly, "they'd all like Tuvvy to stop." "That's the worst of it," said Mr Solace, with an annoyed jerk of his head. "I should like him to stop too. He's such a clever rascal with his head as well as his hands. A hint does for him, where another man wants telling all the ins and outs of a thing, and doesn't get it right in the end. Tuvvy's got a head on his shoulders, and turns out his work just as it ought to be. It's a pleasure to see it. But then, perhaps just at a busy time when we're wanting some job he's at, he'll break out and have a regular fit of drinking for the best part of a week, and leave us all in the lurch. It's no use. I can't and won't put up with it, and I oughtn't to." The farmer spoke as though arguing with his own weakness rather than with Dennis, who now ventured to ask: "If all the others wanted him to stay, would you let him?" "I'll have nothing to do with asking them," said the farmer, spreading out his hands. "I'll have nothing more to do with Tuvvy at all. I've given him up. Now you run away, my boy, and let me get to my business." Dennis stood for a minute, half uncertain whether he should put some more questions; but Mr Solace sat down to his desk, and grasped his pen with such determination, that he did not dare to make another attempt, and unwillingly left the office. He did not, however, entirely give up hope. Dennis was a stubborn little boy, and when he had fixed his mind upon a thing, he did not soon leave off trying to get it. Could Aunt Katharine help him, he wondered, as he and Maisie ran home together. At any rate he would tell her all about it, and ask for her advice. But when she had heard the story, Aunt Katharine did not seem to have much advice to give. "I don't think you must worry Mr Solace any more, Dennis," she said. "He knows best how to manage his own affairs and his own men. A little boy like you can't understand such things. If the wheelwright behaves badly, of course he must lose his place."