Well, take him home and
chain him up. I don't want to flatten his head, but I jolly soon will
if he comes at me."

"He couldn't hit Grip," said Joe, maliciously, as he bent down to pat
and encourage the dog. "Set him at the fellow--he has no business
here."

"What!" cried the fellow, who looked a man of three or four-and-thirty,
but talked like a boy of their own age. "Much right here as you have.
You let me alone, and I'll let you alone. What business have you to set
your beastly dog at me?"

"Who set him at you?" cried Joe. "He only barked at you--he saw you
were a stranger--and you picked up a stone, and that, of course, made
him mad."

"So would you pick up a stone, if a savage dog came at you. Look at him
now, showing his sharp teeth. On'y wish I had his head screwed up in a
carpenter's bench. I'd jolly soon get the pinchers and nip 'em all out.
He wouldn't have no more toothache while I knew him."

"There, you be off," said Gwyn, "while your shoes are good."

"Don't wear shoes, young 'un. Mine's boots."

"You're after no good hanging about here."

"Er--think I want to steal your guv'nor's pears off the wall, now, don't
yer?"

"How do you know we've got pears on our wall?"

"Looked over and see," said the man, grinning.

"Yes, that's it; you're a regular spy, looking for what you can steal,"
cried Joe. "Be off!"

"Sha'n't. Much right here, I tell you, as you have. But I like folks
to talk about stealing! Who nipped off with my fishing line and sinker?
You give 'em back to me."

"No; they're confiscated, same as poachers' nets," said Gwyn. "Who sent
you here?"

"Sent me here? Sent myself."

"What for?"

"Wants a job. I'm mining, and I heared you was going to open the old
mine. Think your guv'nors'll take me on?"

"You put down that stone before you ask questions," said Gwyn.

"You shut up your dog's mouth, then. I don't want to kill him, but I
aren't going to have him stick his teeth into me."

"The dog won't hurt you if you don't threaten him. Throw away that
stone."

"There you are, then; but I warn you, if he comes at me, I'll let him
have my boot, and if he does get it, he won't have any more head."

"Quiet, Grip!" said Gwyn, as the man threw away the stone, and the dog
whined and said, "Don't talk to me like that; this fellow isn't to be
trusted; make me drive him away." At least not in words, for the dog
spoke with his eyes, which seemed to suggest that this cou