“There, you be off,” said Gwyn, “while your shoes are good.”
“Don’t wear shoes, young ’un. Mine’s boots.”
“You’re after no good hanging about here.”
“Er—think I want to steal your guv’nor’s pears off the wall, now, don’t yer?”
“How do you know we’ve got pears on our wall?”
“Looked over and see,” said the man, grinning.
“Yes, that’s it; you’re a regular spy, looking for what you can steal,” cried Joe. “Be off!”
“Sha’n’t. Much right here, I tell you, as you have. But I like folks to talk about stealing! Who nipped off with my fishing line and sinker? You give ’em back to me.”
“No; they’re confiscated, same as poachers’ nets,” said Gwyn. “Who sent you here?”
“Sent me here? Sent myself.”