“Will you get up now, Johnny?”
The soft bowling of the Squire’s carriage-wheels arrested itself, as he drew up to speak to me. The Martley old gentleman sat with him, and there was a vacant place by Giles behind.
“No, thank you, sir. I would rather be on foot.”
“As you will, lad. Is your watch safe?”
“Oh yes.”
“Where’s Joe?”
“Somewhere about. He is with Harry Parker. I have only just missed them.”
“Missed them! Oh, and I suppose you are looking for them. A capital race, that last.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mind you take care of yourself, Johnny,” he called back, as he touched up Bob and Blister, to drive on. I generally did take care of myself, but the Squire never forgot to remind me to do it.