"Men don't talk about these things," Rollo had said, "so I've never told you all you are to me--but it's a fact, Percival, that I'm never really happy except when I'm with you. I've been like that ever since we met, and in all the jolly days we've had together. You know the sort of chap I am--quite different from you. I don't get on with other people. I've always hated the idea of going to Cambridge this October because it means mixing with men I shan't like and leaving you. You're everything to me, old man. It's always been my hope--I don't mind telling you now you're going--that when I settle down, after I come of age--you know what I mean--it's always been my hope that we'll be able to fix it up together somehow. I shall have business and things to look after--you know what I mean--that you can manage a damn sight better than I can. And I'll want some one to look after me--the kind of chap I am; a shy ass, and delicate. And you're the one, the only, only one. Just remember that, won't you, old man?..." IV Percival was aroused from his warm recollection of it by the figure on the gate hailing him. Egbert Hunt it was. "Good lord!" Percival cried. "What on earth are you doing here--this time in the morning and with that bundle?" "Coming with you," said Hunt. "With me! Do you know where I'm going?" Egbert Hunt pointed up the road where Japhra's van came plodding. "In that. Heard you tell Lord Burdon last night. Heard you say that Mr. Stingo's crowd was short of hands. The life for me. Fac'." Percival stared at him--a grown man now, lanky, unhealthy, white of face. "Does Rollo--does Lord Burdon know? Did he say you might go?" "Told me to go to 'ell." Percival laughed. "You'll find it that--you frightful ass." "I'll be free," said Egbert darkly. "No man's slave I won't be any more. Every man's as good as the next where you're bound, I reckon. No more tyrangs for me. You're my sort, and always have been." The van was up to them and pulled up with Japhra's surprised hail of greeting. Percival went to him where he sat on the forward platform. "Japhra, here's a hand for one of your crowd--a friend of mine. Is there work for him?" Japhra looked at Egbert with unveiled belittlement. "There's work for all sorts," he said drily. "For him perhaps. Get up behind," he addressed Egbert. "I'll let old One Eye have a look at thee. He wants a hand." Percival swung up beside Japhra and smiled good morning at Ima, who had come to the door. "Go on, Japhra." "That's a poor lot, that friend of thine," said Japhra, clicking his tongue at Pilgrim. "How far dost thou come with us, little master?" "All the way, Japhra." Japhra looked at him keenly. "To Dorchester?" "Farther than that. I'm going to be third lad in your boxing booth, Japhra. Go on; I'll explain." CHAPTER XI WITH JAPHRA ON THE ROAD I