r, and before
Justin had time to aggravate him still more, there came an interruption
in the shape of a boy who suddenly appeared a few paces off, as if he
had sprung up out of the earth. He had, in fact, been lying at full
length among the heather.

'Master Justin!' he exclaimed. 'I heard you coming along and I've been
waiting for you. I were going home from Maxter's,' and he nodded his
head backwards, as if to point out the direction whence he had come.

'Well,' said Justin, 'and what about it?'

'I axed about them there ferrets as I was telling you about t'other
day,' said the boy.

Justin threw a doubtful glance over his shoulder at his brothers. Bob,
for Bob Crag it was, caught it at once.

'It was just when we was talking about what they cost,' he said
carelessly, 'I thought maybe you'd like to know.'

'Tom Brick has sold his, did you know that?' said Pat, by way of showing
interest in the subject.

'He's been talkin' about it for a long time,' said Bob. 'But _his_
weren't up to much. Those I've been told about are--why, just
tip-toppers!' and out of his black eyes flashed a quick dart to Justin.

He was a striking-looking boy, with the unmistakable signs of gipsyhood
about him, sunburnt and freckled, as if his whole life had been spent
out of doors, which indeed it mostly had. His features were good, his
eyes especially fine, though with an expression which at times
approached cunning. His teeth, white as ivory, gleamed out when he
smiled, and in his smile there was something very charming. It was
curiously sweet for such a rough boy, and with a touch of sadness about
it, as is often to be seen in those of his strange race. He was strong
and active and graceful, like a beautiful wild creature of the woods.
Nevertheless it was not to be wondered at, that, in spite of his
devotion to the boys, to Justin especially, Mr. Hervey had often warned
his sons against making too much of a companion of old Nance's grandson,
for hitherto no one had succeeded in taming him--clergyman,
schoolmaster, kind-hearted ladies of the country-side had all tried
their hands at it and failed. Bob was now thirteen, and did not even
know his letters! Yet in his own line he was extremely clever, too
clever by half in the opinion of many of his neighbours, though not
improbably it was a case of giving a dog a much worse name than he
deserved. Never was a piece of mischief discovered, which a boy could
have been the author of--from b