“You keep alongside me,” he said; “I’ll show yer a near cut. Where do you want to go?”
“I want to get on the main road two or three miles away,” whispered Sam.
“All right. Did you get it?”
“Yes, but don’t talk.”
“Shall if I like,” growled Pete. “I say, look here. I arn’t seen you ter-night, and I don’t know nothin’ about that ladder. Let ’em think it was Tom Ugly Blount. But I say, you’ll give me another shillin’?”
“I’ll give you two,” panted Sam, “if you’ll promise never to blab.”
“You’re a good ’un,” said Pete, laughing softly. “Won’t ketch me talking. Hand over; and if you come down again I’ll help yer any night. I hates that there t’other chap, but I likes you.”
“Thankye,” said Sam, who gave the lad a couple of shillings more, when, as good as his word, Pete guided him to the road a good three miles on his way.
“Good-night, mate,” the lad said, holding out his hand.
“Mate!” thought Sam in disgust, as he felt constrained to shake hands.