'I hope it will keep fine, Chippy,' said Dick; 'we can't afford to pay money for lodgings. How long do you think we shall be able to keep going on our money--till the end of the week?' 'Hope so,' replied Chippy. 'I don't want to goo back till we're obliged.' 'Nor do I,' cried Dick. 'Well, there's the last of Bardon for a bit.' They looked back from a little ridge, and saw the spires of the town over a row of poplars. 'Ta-ta, Bardon,' said Dick. 'We mean to have a look at Newminster before we see you again.' 'We do,' grunted Chippy. Newminster was a famous cathedral city rather more than forty-five miles from Bardon. To go there and back would mean a tramp of some ninety miles in the six days, and that would be a very fair achievement to carry out on ten shillings for all expenses. The boys talked over ways and means as they went on. 'We got to look out for everythin' we can pick up as 'ull help us,' said Chippy. 'I see,' replied Dick; 'we must try to live on the country. That would be real scout style, Chippy. But it isn't a hostile country; we can't take anything.' 'No, no,' agreed Chippy; 'no pinchin', o' course. Still, theer's things to be had in places. Fish, now--we could cop some fish in some rivers wheer it's free to put a line in.' 'I never thought of fishing,' said Dick; 'that's a good idea. But we've got no rods or tackle.' Chippy gave a chuckle, and dived a band into a pocket of his shorts. He drew out a hank of fine cord and a screw of paper. In the paper were half a dozen hooks on gut. 'That's all as we want,' he remarked. 'Wait till we come acrost a river wheer there's suthin' to cop.' 'Good for you, Chippy,' laughed Dick. 'A few fish will help us along in style. Only we mustn't poach.' 'No, no,' said Chippy; 'we'll play fair.' By eleven o'clock the boys had made, with occasional halts, just about eight miles, and both had the knot out of their neckties. Dick had seen an old cottage woman labouring at her well, and had lent her a hand with the heavy bucket, and drawn all the water she would want for the day, while Chippy had sprung forward to hold the pony of a lady who was visiting a sick woman in a cottage near by. In connection with Chippy's good turn, a discussion arose between the two scouts as they marched on from the hamlet where these things had happened. The lady had offered Chippy sixpence, and, of course, he had refused it. 'Now, look 'ere,' said Chippy; 'o' course, I didn't tek' the sixpence, becos the knot worn't out o' me neckerchief, an' the job worn't worth sixpence, nohow, an' we got to do all them sorts o' things for nuthin', by orders. But s'pose I did a job for some'dy as was really worth sixpence, an' I'd done me good turn that day, could I tek' the sixpence to help us along? It 'ud come in uncommon handy. An', besides that, we're allowed to earn money, though we mustn't beg it or tek' it for little trifles as we ought to do for nuthin'.'