But the Captain’s besetting sin, a strong predilection for exploring the unusual, had taken possession of him. He disregarded the ticket, and said: “Did your dad leave you to mind the gate for him?”
“Yes sir,” acknowledged the youth, with a somewhat watery sniff. “Please, sir, it’s frippence, and——”
“Opens the next two gates,” supplied the Captain. “What’s your name?”
“Ben,” replied the youth.
“Where does this road lead to? Sheffield?”
After consideration, Ben said that it did.
“How far?” asked the Captain.
“I dunno. Ten miles, I dessay. Please, sir——”
“As much as that! The devil!”
“It might be twelve, p’raps. I dunno. But the ticket’s frippence, please, sir.”