Sometimes the way lay through narrow lanes, where the branches almost met overhead, and the tangled hedgerows swept the canvas roof; and sometimes the road wound upwards, and Boxer plodded from side to side taking a zigzag course to ease the climbing, while Dick rested luxuriously and dreamed of Ironboro'. Gradually the way became less lonely, carts and waggons and droves of sheep were passed and houses were more frequently seen by the wayside, and from these groups of children came, talking joyously about the fair and counting their pennies as they went along. Half-a-mile from the little town they had to wait. A gaily painted group of show waggons filled the roadway, for one of these had broken down, and for a time nothing could pass by. There was a great noise of talking and shouting orders, and one big man, with tiny corkscrew curls of very black hair and silver rings in his ears and a coat of faded velveteen, stood close by the carrier's waggon and ordered others to do his bidding. Pat was broad awake now, and when the carrier, seeing they would have to wait awhile, took out a lunch of bread and meat and began to cut it with a pocket knife, the dog stood on his hind legs and begged in his most insinuating way. "He's as smart as his master," said the carrier, laughing, while the gipsy-like man turned and glanced keenly at the van. "Does he know any more tricks?" asked one of the boys eagerly. Dick bent down and whispered something to Pat, and he threw back his head, half shut his eyes, and gave vent to a succession of shrill howls that were the best music his voice was capable of, while his master whistled the air of "Killarney" as an accompaniment. Everybody laughed, and then Pat made a funny little bow and held up his paw to shake hands. "How much do you want for him?" said the showman in the velveteen coat. "I'm looking out for a smart little terrier to guard my show. I wouldn't mind a couple of shillings." "He's not for sale, thank you," answered Dick politely. "Nonsense! Every dog has a price, and most likely you've picked him up somewhere underhanded. So come along." Dick flushed scarlet at the insult and again said "No!" decidedly. The man turned and whispered something to a girl in an orange scarf and black and green frock, who had come out of the show waggon, and she tossed her head and laughed merrily. But now the broken caravan was pulled aside and the road was partly clear again, and the carrier drove on, and soon with a mighty flourish of the reins he stopped in front of the "George Inn" at Weyn, and everyone got down. CHAPTER V. PAT LOST AND FOUND.