d Tom
stared. "Catch."

The pear was thrown, caught deftly, and transferred to a pocket in
Pete's ragged trousers where a forgotten hole existed, and the fruit was
seen to run down the leg and re-appear by the lad's boot. Pete grinned,
picked it up, and put the fruit in a safer place.

"Catch again!" cried Sam, bringing out another pear, and throwing it
this time with all his might, evidently with the intention of hitting
the lad a sharp blow.

But the pear was caught as it struck in Pete's palms with a smart
_spang_, and was duly transferred to the lad's pocket.

"What a shame!" thought Tom. "Uncle's choice pears, and they were not
fit to pick."

"Got any more?" cried Pete.

"Yes, one. Have it?" said Sam, drawing out the finest yet, but
disfigured by the marks of teeth, a piece having been bitten out, and
proving too hard and green to be palatable. "Now then, catch."

This one was thrown viciously as a cricket-ball by long-field-off. But
Pete's eyes were keen; he had seen the white patch on the side of the
fruit, and instead of trying to catch it, he ducked his head, and let it
go far away among the fir-trees, the branch of one of which it struck,
and split in pieces.

"No, yer didn't," said Pete, grinning. "I say, chuck us another
sixpence."

"Not this time," said Sam, puffing again at his cigarette and then
staring at Tom, who suddenly threw off the feeling of hesitation which
had kept him back, and made a rush forward in the direction taken by the
pear.

"Where are you going?" cried Sam. "You've got plenty at home."

But Tom paid no heed; his eyes were fixed on the spot where Pete had
stood when he took out his pipe, and made for it.

Pete's eyes had grown sharp from the life he led in the woods, and
amongst the furze of the great heath-like commons, and he saw now the
object which had fallen from his pocket. His sluggish manner was cast
aside, and, as if suddenly galvanised into action, he sprang forward to
secure the little object lying half hidden upon a tuft of ling.

The consequence was a smart collision, the two lads' heads coming
violently in contact, and, according to the conclusions of
mathematicians, flying off at a tangent. The next instant Tom and Pete,
half-stunned, were seated amongst the furze gazing stupidly at each
other.

Tom was the first to recover, and, bending forward, caught up a bit of
twisted brass wire, secured to a short length of string, before rising
to his