Hiram, wondering what lay under this change of front, answered slowly. "We’re no thiefs, Maister; an’ if our peat beds lie foot-to-heel wi’ yourn, is that to say we’d ower-step th’ boundary? Besides, we’ve no call to; our side o’ th’ bed yields better peats——" "Well, I judge by what I’m told, and our farm-folk told us further that ye had carted some of their own peats as they lay up-ended for the drying." "Begow, that’s a likely tale!" cried Hiram, roused at last. "When we worked noon an’ neet for a week, cutting an’ drying an’ carting, to be telled we——" "There! Thou’rt honest, Hiram, and I’ll take thy word for it," laughed Ratcliffe. "So the peats have lasted, have they? Ours are all but done after this cursed winter." "Now, what’s he at?" muttered Hiram. "When th’ Ratcliffe breed hatches a civil word, they allus want stiff payment for ’t.—Our peats are lasting fine, an’ thankee," he said. "’Tis all a matter o’ forethought, an’ some fowk hesn’t mich o’ that. Oh, ay, we’ve getten a shed-full next to th’ mistals, let alone th’ stack at th’ far-side o’ th’ yard; an’ it’s April now, so I reckon we shall see th’ winter through. Ye niver catch us tripping down at Marsh." "Not oft," said Ratcliffe, with a crafty smile.—"Faith, though, thy boasting would move better if it had less to carry, Hiram. We’re all at fault once in a while, and I warrant that, if the peats will last, your bedding—bracken and the like,—has fallen short." "Then ye’ll warrant to little purpose," put in Hiram, with triumph, "they lig side by side, th’ peats an’ th’ bedding—an’ if ye’ll step down an’ tak a look at Marsh ye’ll find a fairish heap o’ both sorts." He laughed at the humour of the invitation, and Red Ratcliffe followed suit as he turned on his heel. "Another day, Hiram, and meanwhile I’ll take word back to Wildwater, that we’ve all to learn yet from the wise men who dwell at Marsh." "Scoff as ye will, ye’re varry right there," muttered Hiram, as he too, went his way. "But I’d like to know what made ye frame to speak so civil all at once." Red Ratcliffe was already moving across the field, with a light step and a face that was full of cunning glee; nor did he slacken pace until, half toward Wildwater, he saw Shameless Wayne parting from Janet at the corner of the crossroads. His face darkened for a moment, then cleared as he watched Shameless Wayne pass down the road to Marsh. "I’ve learned two things worth the knowing to-day," he murmured, striding after his cousin, "and both should cut solid ground from under Wayne’s feet. God, though, they did not part like lovers! Has Janet’s needle-tongue proved over-sharp for Shameless Wayne? Ay, it must be so—and now she’s full of sorrow for the quarrel, all in a maid’s way, and droops like any wayside flower."