“What do you say to me going round and buying up all the ham and bacon and salt pork I can get, sir?”
“Yes, certainly,” cried Roy. “My mother will supply the money.”
“Oh, that’s all right enough, sir,” said the farmer. “But of course you don’t want us to come and live in the place until there’s real trouble.”
“Certainly not. Give half your time to getting ready for troubles, and the other half to the farm.”
“I see, sir. Ah, morning, Master Pawson. Wild times these.”
“Terrible, Master Raynes, terrible,” said the secretary, coming up. “Are you going to be drilled too?”
Roy glanced sharply round, but the secretary spoke earnestly, and with no suggestion of a sneer.
“Yes, sir, me and my men must come and support my landlord, spite of all that Parson Meldew may say.”
“Does he object?”
“Yes, sir; and pretty strongly, too. If I was him, I don’t think I should say quite so much, for he may be hearing of it again.”