"Want, lad?" said Ike; "we don't want nowt of him, do we, Jem? We're only so glad to see an old mate again, that we don't know hardly how to bear it." "That's it, Ike," said Jem. "And don't you think as he's stuck up, mind you. See how glad he is to see his owd mates again. Say, Johnny, `It's my delight of a shiny night,' eh?" "Hush!" exclaimed John Maine, starting. "All right," said Jem. "Got a pipe o' 'bacco 'bout you?" John Maine took a tobacco-pouch from his pocket, and held it out to the speaker, who refilled his dirty pipe, looked the pouch all over, and then transferred it to his pocket. "Look here, Ike," said the fellow then, "we won't keep Johnny any longer. He's off out courting--going to see his lass. Don't you see the bood in his button-hole. He'll see us again when he comes to look us up, for we shall pitch down in one of the pooblics." "Raight you are, lad; he'll find us out. Do anything now, Johnny? Ought to be a few hares and fezzans about here. Good-bye, Johnny, lad; give my love to her." The two men went off laughing and talking, leaving John Maine gazing after them, till they disappeared round a bend of the lane on the way to Dumford, when brushing the perspiration from his face with one hand, he staggered away, kicking up the dust at every step till he reached a stile, upon which he sank down as if the elasticity had been taken out of his muscles. His head went down upon his hands, his elbows upon his knees, and there he remained motionless, with the dog sitting down and watching him intently, after trying by pawing and whining to gain his master's attention. Neither John Maine nor his ill-looking companions had gone far, before a head and shoulders were raised slowly up over the hedge, so that their owner could peer over and look up and down the lane. The countenance revealed was that of Thomas Brough, the keeper, who had evidently been sitting on the other side, partaking of his rural lunch, or dinner; for as he parted the green growth, to get a better view, it was with a big clasp knife, while his other hand held a lump of bread, ornamented with bacon. He spoke the next moment with his mouth full, but his words were quite audible as he said-- "I thowt that thar dog would ha' smelt the rat, but a didn't. So I hadn't got you now, Jack Maine, hadn't I? I'm a rogue, am I, Jack? I sold the Squire's rabbuds, did I? and pocketted t' money, did I? Wires, eh? Fezzans and hares, eh? Now, what'll old Bultitude and Miss Jess say to this? I'll just find out what's your little game." He strode hastily off, parting the hazels, and making a short cut across the copse, while John Maine sat on the stile thinking.