“Yes, Dick, and that’s the spirit in which to take such a cowardly threat—laugh at it,” said the squire, replacing the letter in his pocket-book. “I only wish I knew who sent it. Who’s this coming?”
“Why, it’s Dave!” cried Tom eagerly, as the man came slowly along one of the winding lanes of water in his punt.
“Oh, yes, I remember!” said the squire; “he was here yesterday and said he would come and fetch you, Dick, if you liked to go, over to the decoy.”
“And you never said a word about it, father! Here, come along, Tom.”
The latter glanced at his father, but read consent in his eyes, and the two lads dashed off together.
“Seems to be letting him idle a deal,” said Farmer Tallington thoughtfully.
“Not it,” said the squire. “They’re both very young and growing. Let them enjoy themselves and grow strong and hearty. They’ve had a long turn at school, and all this will do them good.”
“Ay, it’ll mak ’em grow strong and lusty if it does nowt else,” said the farmer.
“And as to the big drain,” said the squire; “we’re farmers, neighbour, even if I do work my land as much for pleasure as for profit.”
“Ay, but what’s that to do with it?”