"Th' old man be mortal weak an' faint for sure," he said. "I come upon 'im lyin' under a tree wi' a mossel book aside 'im, an' I takes an' looks at the book, an' 'twas all portry an' simpleton stuff like, an' 'e looked old enough to be my dad, an' tired enough to be fast goin' where my dad's gone, so I just took 'im along wi' me, an' giv' 'im my name an' purfession, an' 'e did the same, a-tellin' me as 'ow 'is name was D. David, an' 'ow 'e 'd lost 'is office work through bein' too old an' shaky. 'E's all right,--an office man aint much good on the road, weak on 'is pins an' failin' in 'is sight. M'appen the 'arf-crown we've got 'im 'ull 'elp 'im to a ride part o' the way 'e's goin'." "Well, don't you men bother about him any more," said Miss Tranter decisively. "You get off early in the morning, as usual. _I'll_ look after him!" "Will ye now?" and Peke's rugged features visibly brightened--"That's just like ye, Miss! Aint it, Tom? Aint it, Bill?" Both individuals appealed to agreed that it was "Miss Tranter all over." "Now off to bed with you!" proceeded that lady peremptorily. "And leave your collected 'fund' with me--I'll give it to him." But Tom o' the Gleam would not hear of this. "No, Miss Tranter!--with every respect for you, no!" he said gaily. "It's not every night we can play angels! I play angel to my kiddie sometimes, putting a fairing in his little hammock where he sleeps like a bird among the trees all night, but I've never had the chance to do it to an old grandad before! Let me have my way!"