"Might as well call him off, sir," Robert—now almost awake—conceded.
The stranger stepped forward, a snap clicked, and Charles, still widely smiling, was straining at the end of a leathern thong.
"I hope he didn't frighten you," said the stranger.
"He bunted at me with his great head," said Tommy, with half a sob, "and then he eat up what I'd got, and hooked it off again afore you could say knife."
"What had you got?"
"Nothing," said Tommy, remembering caution, "at least—"
"The jingling of the guinea heals," said the stranger, incomprehensibly. "Would sixpence be any comfort to you?"
Tommy's eyes answered, and the stranger held it out.
"Thank you, sir," said Tommy, and added, in close imitation of his father's manner to thirsty travelers, "Going far to-day, sir?"