schievously, "to look after you, and see that you do
your work."

"Gahn!" he growled, beginning to dig again. Look here, though; if you
ain't ready I shall go without you.

"All right, Ike!" I said. "What time do you start?"

"Twelve o'clock sees me outside the yard gates, my lad. Five arter sees
me down the road."

"Do you know the way, Ike?" I said.

"Do I know the way!" cried Ike, taking his spade close up to the blade
and scraping and looking at it as if addressing it. "Why, I was born
close to that san'-pit, and put Old Brownsmith's brother up to getting
some. I can show him where to get some real peat too, if he behaves
hisself."

The trip to the sand-pit kept all other thoughts out of my head; and
though I was packed off to bed at seven for a few hours' rest, Mr
Solomon having promised to sit up so as to call me, I don't think I
slept much, and at last, when I was off soundly, I jumped up in a
fright, to find that the moon was shining full in at my window, and I
felt sure that I had overslept myself and that Ike had gone.

I had not undressed, only taken off jacket, waistcoat, and boots; and I
softly opened my door and stole down in my stocking feet to look at the
eight-day clock, when, as I reached the mat, a peculiar odour smote on
my senses, and then there was the sound of a fire being tapped gently,
and Mrs Solomon said:

"I think I'll go and wake him now."

"I am awake," I said, opening the door softly, to find the table spread
for breakfast, and Mr Solomon in spectacles making up his gardening
accounts.

"Just coming to call you, my lad," he said. "Half-past eleven, and Ike
has just gone to the stable."

"And Shock?" I said.

"The young dog! he has been sleeping up in the hay-loft again. Ike says
he can't keep him at their lodgings."

I ran back upstairs and finished dressing, to come down and find that
Mr Solomon had taken out two basins of hot coffee and some bread and
butter for Ike and Shock, while mine was waiting.

"Put that in your pocket, Grant," said Mrs Solomon, giving me a brown
paper parcel.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Sandwiches. You'll be glad of them by and by."

I took the packet unwillingly, for I was not hungry then, and I thought
it a nuisance; for I had no idea then that I was providing myself with
that which would save my life in the peril that was to come.

It was ten minutes to twelve when I went down to the yard, where all the
dogs were standing on