'Lazy good-for-nothin' varmin--that's what I call them tramps!' she cried. 'I know what I'd do wi' 'em. I'd take ivery man-jack of 'em by the scruff o' his neck, an' set him at a job, that I would, as sure as my name's Hester Slade. An' I'd say to him: "When that's done ye'll get sommat to eat, an' not afore." That's wot I'd say. "Work or starve!"' And Mrs. Slade waved the bread-knife above her head, as if it were a sword flourished in defiance of the whole army of tramps in general. CHAPTER XXXVII AT NEWMINSTER 'We come off pretty well,' said Chippy--'lost naught but my stick.' 'I'll show you where to out another afore we get to Newminster,' said Mrs. Slade--'a place where my man often cuts a stick. 'Tis a plantation of ashes on a bank lookin' to the north. Heavy, holdin' ground, too--just the spot for slow-growin' tough timber.' She went to the towpath once more to unstrap the tin bucket from the horse's head, and set him to his task again. 'I fancy we shall have to stay somewhere in Newminster to-night, Chippy,' said Dick. Chippy grunted in a dissatisfied fashion. The Raven was very keen on doing the trip for the smallest possible outlay of money. It seemed to him so much more scoutlike to live on the country, as they were fond of saying, and to pay for shelter did not seem to be playing the game. Dick nodded. 'I know what you mean,' he said, for he had quite understood Chippy's grunt. 'But we're bound to make Newminster, and send off a card to show we've been in the town.' 'O' course,' said the Raven. 'And then it will be rather late to start off again and strike for the open country to search for a camping-place.' 'Right, Dick--quite right,' rejoined his comrade; 'the wust of it is as lodgin's cost money.' 'Needn't cost ye a single copper this night, anyhow,' said a voice in their ears, and the scouts jumped. Mrs. Slade had come up unseen, and had caught the last words of the Raven. 'Here y' are,' she went on, and pointed to the snug little cabin; 'that's yourn to-night if ye want it.' 'But you'll need it for yourselves,' cried Dick. 'Not this night,' she replied. 'I've got a married darter in Newminster. She've a-married a wharfinger in a good way o' business. Such a house as she've got! Upstairs, downstairs, an' a back-kitchen.' Mrs. Slade visibly swelled in importance as she described her daughter's palatial surroundings. No doubt they seemed very extensive indeed after one small cabin. 'An' 'tis settled we stay wi' her to-night, so the cabin 'ere will be empty, an' ye're as welcome to it as can be.'