"A mile, perhaps."
"They said it was three from the village, but I guess I've come a dozen a'ready."
The boy did not reply to this. There was nothing offensive in the man's manner. He spoke with an easy familiarity that made it difficult not to respond with equal frank cordiality, and there was a shrewd expression upon his wrinkled, smooth-shaven face that stamped him a man who had seen life in many of its phases.
Kenneth, who resented the companionship of most people, seemed attracted by the man, and hesitated to gallop on and leave him.
"Know Jane Merrick?" asked the stranger.
The boy nodded.
"Like her?"
"I hate her," he said, savagely.
The man laughed, a bit uneasily.
"Then it's the same Jane as ever," he responded, with a shake of his grizzled head. "Do you know, I sort o' hoped she'd reformed, and I'd be glad to see her again. They tell me she's got money."