d-haired man winked knowingly in the direction of his wife. "As I was
tryin' to explain, the caravan with part of our troupe went on to
Barchester the other day; but me an' my missis here--she wasn't feelin'
well-like--we stayed behind in the country to recruit, as the newspapers
says about all the big folks, an' get the benefit o' the fresh air."

"Then 'twas ye was loiterin' about Firdale an' Copsley Wood scarin'
people out o' their wits? Poachin'--eh?" asked the young fellow, with a
grin.

The proprietor of the Satellite Circus Company made no reply, and after
a moment's hesitation his wife answered for him.

"Look ee here," she said insinuatingly, sidling at the same time nearer
to bargee, and speaking with her mouth close to his ear. "Wouldn't
_them_ make a tasty stew for yer supper to-night, my lad?" opening as
she spoke a huge wallet which hung concealed beneath the folds of her
faded scarlet shawl, and drawing from its depths a couple of plump young
rabbits and a pair of wood-pigeons.

"By jingo! wouldn't they though!" he exclaimed, smacking his lips at
the prospect of the toothsome meal the woman was willing to provide.
What a pity he could not oblige her and her husband! They were only
tramps, to be sure, but decent enough for all that. What harm could they
do on board the old tub of a boat? And what a supper he should have
after he reached Barchester!

Bargee looked about him. The boy was seated beside the tiller and paying
no attention to his master; he was still busy with his bread and cheese.
The toll-keeper yet lingered within the office, so for his benefit
bargee raised his voice as he said roughly,--

"No, no, I tell ye. There's no use o' ye hangin' an' pesterin' here no
longer. I durstn't disobey orders, an' that's the end o't." Then he
added in a rapid whisper into the woman's quick ear as he boarded his
craft,--

"Push on to the next lock, it's about a mile further, an' I'll take ye
in then. But mind, if ye're asked any questions, mum's the word."

With a knowing wink and comprehensive smile the pair leisurely sauntered
off the wharf; and when the canal-boat slowed in passing the next toll,
with an agile spring the red-haired man leaped from the path to the
deck, then helped his missis, as he called the bold-eyed, black-browed
woman, in beside him.

Thus Joe Harris, or Thieving Joe, as he was known among his associates,
and his wife Moll came to be passengers along with our two little
trav