Meanwhile the stranger, encumbered by the striving Charles, was "being shown the rooms"—the bare, much-scrubbed bedroom, the all-too-full and too-carpeted parlor.
"They are exactly what I want," he said, and so won the heart of his hostess.
When Tommy, his trousers restored, came down to tea he was warned not to go clamping about in his boots, because there was a gentleman in the parlor. Tommy fingered the sixpence in his pocket and said nothing; his mouth was, indeed, far too full for words.
That evening in the parched orchard behind the house Tommy came edging shyly toward the stranger as he lounged under the trees smoking a fat pipe.
"Hullo, young man!" was the greeting. "Come here and talk to me."
Tommy dumbly drew near.
"Got your trousers back, I see," said the stranger, genially.
Tommy admitted it with a grunt. The stranger nodded and took his pipe out of his mouth.
"Ever see a pig?" he asked.
Tommy grunted again.