e's mouth
quietly."

"Don't order me about," said the old man, slowly; "I ain't said I'll do
it yet."

"They're coming now," said Flower, impatiently; "mind, if they catch me
you lose your five pounds."

"All right," said the other. "I'm doing it for the five pounds, mind,
not for you," added this excellent man.

He went grunting and groaning down the narrow stairs, and the skipper,
closing the door, went and crouched down by the open casement. A
few indistinct words were borne in on the still air, and voices came
gradually closer, until footsteps, which had been deadened by the grass,
became suddenly audible on the stones outside the cottage.

Flower held his breath with anxiety; then he smiled softly and
pleasantly as he listened to the terms in which his somewhat difficult
host was addressed.

"Now, gaffer," said the man of the gig, roughly.

"Wake up, grandpa," said Dick Tipping; "have you seen a man go by
here?--blue serge suit, moustache, face and head knocked about?"

"No, I ain't seen 'im," was the reply. "What's he done?"

Tipping told him briefly. "We'll have him," he said, savagely. "We've
got a mounted policeman on the job, besides others. If you can catch him
it's worth half a sov. to you."

He went off hurriedly with the other man, and their voices died away in
the distance. Flower sat in his place on the floor for some time, and
then, seeing from the window that the coast was clear, went downstairs
again.

The old woman made him up a bed on the floor after supper, although both
he and the old man assured her that it was unnecessary, and then, taking
the lamp, bade him good-night and went upstairs.

Flower, left to himself, rolled exultingly on his poor couch, and for
the first time in a fortnight breathed freely.

"If I do get into trouble," he murmured, complacently, "I generally
manage to get out of it. It wants a good head in the first place, and a
cool one in the second."

CHAPTER XVI.

He was awake early in the morning, and, opening the door, stood
delightedly breathing the fresh, pine-scented air.

The atmosphere of the Blue Posts was already half forgotten, and he
stood looking dreamily forward to the time when he might reasonably
return to life and Poppy. He took a few steps into the wood and, after
feeling for his pipe before he remembered that Miss Tipping was probably
keeping it as a souvenir, sat on a freshly-cut log and fell into a
sentimental reverie, until the ap