"I'll jolly well murder you, once I get out of here," said the man. "I'll murder you and bury you ten times over. Don't you worry about that."
"You oughter reform an' start again on the—what was it?—the path of virt—virt something—now I've told you like what he said—with jus' a word. Well, I've said the word, an' you oughter reform an'——"
"Just you wait, my son," said the young man grimly, beginning to unearth himself.
But Ginger had made a discovery.
"Look, William," he said. "Look at this!"
"This" was a tin, containing curious earth-covered coins, at the edge of the hole.
"He's a thief, too," said William indignantly. "Takin' folks' money as well as buryin' them. He's goin' right down the broad evil path like what he said. Well, he oughter stop. I've said it. I've said the word like what he said, an' he oughter reform an' come back to the path of virt—what he said."
The young man was fast unearthing himself. He looked a curious sight.
"Just you wait," he said again, as he began to climb out of the hole. "Murder won't be in it."
Instinctively and throwing the zeal of the reformer to the winds, William and Ginger took to their heels and fled—across the lawn, down the drive, down the road—with fleetness of foot gained in many a flight from irate farmers and landowners. Ginger still hugged to his breast the tin of coins. The earthen young man followed, leaving a trail of soil as he ran.