"Walked," said the man sadly. "When?" "Last--night," sighed the stranger, uttering the first word in quite a high-pitched tone, the second sounding almost like a groan. He was very shabbily dressed--just an old flannel shirt and a pair of fustian trousers, while his head was covered by one of the regular, broad-brimmed, flop felt hats so common amongst Englishmen for protection from the sun. "Well, you are a cheerful looking gentleman," thought Mark, and he had hard work on meeting his cousin's eye to keep from bursting into a fit of laughter. Then a sudden thought struck him. "When did you say you came here?" "Last--night?" "What time?" "No watch," said the man. "Quite dark." "But what did you come for?" The man pointed to the ponies, and Mark gazed at his cousin and whispered, "I say, I think I have seen this fellow before." "Hanging about that dealer's yard?" "Yes." "I am sure I did," whispered Dean, as the man turned from them to check the wandering of another of the ponies. "Dean," said Mark, "I have got an idea." "Let's have it." "That chap has come to steal our ponies." "Bother!" cried Dean contemptuously. "When did you say you came?" "Last--night," said the man. "Here, I say, you, sir," cried Mark. "Did you say you came here last night to look after our ponies?" "Yes," said the man, and they saw that he was working with his left hand now, snipping at the stubbly beard with the scissors, while with the other he held his moustache back to keep it from being cut. "Look here," said Mark; "was it you who came close up to me in the dark when I was on the watch?" "Yes," said the man sadly. "Thought you was asleep." "It was lucky for you that I did not shoot you." "Yes," said the man dismally, as he slowly took off his hat and poked one long thin finger through a hole that the boys had not previously noticed, shook his head at it sadly, put his hat on again, and went on snipping as before. "There, Dean! Now, then, was it a false alarm?" "Well, no; but I should never have taken this chap for a lion," replied his cousin. "Here, I say, you, sir, why do you speak as if you were sorry that my cousin did not hit you?" "Wasn't," said the man, mournfully snipping away. "Well, what do you want?" "Breakfast," said the man. "Had none since you come away." "That's cool," said Mark, as he looked at the man suspiciously. "Oh, here come Buck Denham and Dan. They have smelt that something's wrong about the ponies. Here," he continued, turning to the two fresh arrivals, "what are you two laughing at?" "At 'im, sir," whispered Dan, as the oddity moved away after a pony. "Yes, he's rather a rum 'un to look at, gen'lemen," said Buck, in the same low tone. "I have seen him before. Sort of hang-about as has to do with him as sold you those ponies. I think he's a bit touched in his head--dotty, you know."