“And how dared you do it? Who gave you leave to do it?” foamed Tod, turning green and purple.
“I did it because they were mine.”
“Yours! Are you mad?”
“Yes, sir, mine. I bought ’em and paid for ’em.”
Tod did think him mad at the moment; I could see it in his face. “Of whom, pray, did you buy them?”
“Of Captain Copperas. I had ’em from the garden last year and the year afore: other folks lived in the place then. Three pounds I gave for ’em this time. The captain sold ’em to me a month ago, and I was to take my own time for gathering them.”
I don’t think Tod had ever felt so floored in all his life. He stood back against the pales and stared. A month ago we had not known Captain Copperas.
“I might have took all the lot: ’twas in the agreement; but I left you a few before the front winder,” said Tasker, in an injured tone. “And you come and attack me like this!”
“But what do you want with them? What are they taken for?”