“I dunno. I never seen him. Only his shadder—onct!”
“But you’ve rubbed his horse down for him, haven’t you?”
“No!” Ben said, staring.
“Wasn’t that his blanket that you brought me for Beau?”
“No.’ That’s Mr. Chirk’s!” said Ben. “He’s a—” He stopped, gave a gasp, and added quickly: “He’s as good as ever twanged, he is! You don’t want to go telling nobody about him! Please, sir—”
“Oh, I won’t breathe a word about him! Are all your friends so shy?”
“He ain’t shy. He just don’t like strangers.”
“I see. And does this other man—the one you’re afraid of—dislike strangers too?”
“I dunno. He can’t abide boys. Me dad says if he was to catch me looking at him he’d have me took off to work in the pits.” His voice sank on the word, and he gave so convulsive a shudder that it was easy to see that coal-pits were to him a worse horror than foundries.
John laughed. “That’s a fine Banbury story! Your dad’s been hoaxing you, my son!”