onderful. With his child's legs and arms he tried to
do the things that Jerrold did. They told him he would have to wait nine
years before he could do them. He was always talking about what he would
do in nine years' time.

And there was the day of the walk to High Slaughter, through the valley
of the Speed to the valley of the Windlode, five miles there and back.
Eliot and Jerrold and Anne had tried to sneak out when Colin wasn't
looking; but he had seen them and came running after them down the
field, calling to them to let him come. Eliot shouted "We can't,
Col-Col, it's too far," but Colin looked so pathetic, standing there in
the big field, that Jerrold couldn't bear it.

"I think," he said, "we might let him come."

"Yes. Let him," Anne said.

"Rot. He can't walk it."

"I can," said Colin. "I can."

"I tell you he can't. If he's tired he'll be sick in the night and then
he'll say it's ghosts."

Colin's mouth trembled.

"It's all right, Col-Col, you're coming." Jerrold held out his hand.

"Well," said Eliot, "if he crumples up _you_ can carry him."

"I can," said Jerrold.

"So can I," said Anne.

"Nobody," said Colin "shall carry me. I can walk."

Eliot went on grumbling while Colin trotted happily beside them. "You're
a fearful ass, Jerrold. You're simple ruining that kid. He thinks he can
come butting into everything. Here's the whole afternoon spoiled for all
three of us. He can't walk. You'll see he'll drop out in the first
mile."

"I shan't, Jerrold."

And he didn't. He struggled on down the fields to Upper Speed and along
the river-meadows to Lower Speed and Hayes Mill, and from Hayes Mill to
High Slaughter. It was when they started to walk back that his legs
betrayed him, slackening first, then running, because running was easier
than walking, for a change. Then dragging. Then being dragged between
Anne and Jerrold (for he refused to be carried). Then staggering,
stumbling, stopping dead; his child's mouth drooping.

Then Jerrold carried him on his back with his hands clasped under
Colin's soft hips. Colin's body slipped every minute and had to be
jerked up again; and when it slipped his arms tightened round Jerrold's
neck, strangling him.

At last Jerrold, too, staggered and stumbled and stopped dead.

"I'll take him," said Eliot. He forbore, nobly, to say "I told you so."

And by turns they carried him, from the valley of the Windlode to the
valley of the Speed, past Hayes Mill, th