When at length the crowning moment arrived, and Peter was formally introduced to his new home, Julius was almost as excited over it as was Robin himself. Long did he linger, so fascinating was it to watch the little inmate as it explored the corners of the old packing-case, and stood up on its hind legs to sniff the wire netting which had been so carefully fastened on, with a vast amount of vigorous hammering and super-abundance of nails. He almost danced with delight when Peter went through the narrow doorway, sawn with infinite labour in the hard wood, which led to the sleeping apartment within. How comfortable he would find it, filled as it was with nice dry bracken, which the two lads had gathered from the adjoining wood. "I’ll come back to-morrow early," he remarked to Robin, when at length he could bring himself to say good-bye. "I think everything’s right, but there might be a nail or two we could stick in somewhere to make it all quite secure, and we’ll be able to see better in the morning." "I think Robin’s the jolliest boy I ever knew," he said to himself as he went home. "I’ll often go to see him, if only I can manage without father finding out. We’ll have some fine times together, and no one will be any the wiser." "I couldn’t have believed he was such a decent sort of chap," was Robin’s comment after Julius had taken his departure. "He seemed such an utter cad when he spoke to me at the gates." "Poor little fellow," replied Mrs. Power, "you see he’s got no mother to help him to behave, and I expect he’s not used to meeting people, as Mr. Field leads such an isolated life. We must try and be kind to him if we can." *CHAPTER III* *Judge Simmons* "A gentleman to see you, sir," said the footman as he approached Mr. Field with a salver on which lay a solitary visiting card. "Eh, what? A visitor, did you say?" said his master. "What’s his name, Jenkins?" "It’s written there, sir," replied the footman. "He said you wouldn’t know him, but he would be glad if you could see him for a few moments on business." "Judge Simmons," read out Mr. Field, as he took up the card. "Sounds as if he came from America." "So he does, sir, if you can go by his accent," answered Jenkins. "Don’t like Yankees, though I’ve spent so much of my life among them," murmured Mr. Field under his breath. "What can this fellow want, coming bothering me here?" he added in a slightly louder tone. "I don’t know, sir, I didn’t happen to enquire," replied the footman. "Don’t be impertinent, Jenkins," said Mr. Field looking up sharply. He lived in continual dread that his servants were making fun of him behind his back, and Jenkins’ tone was suspiciously polite. "Of course it’s not your place to question my visitors, and you’d pretty soon find yourself in hot water if you did."