? I never lived in the country. Here, catch hold.
No, Stop; let's set it, and try and catch one."

Tom stared.

"I say," he cried; "why I read all about that in _The Justice of the
Peace_,--don't you know that it's punishable?"

"Of course for the joskins, but they wouldn't say anything to a
gentleman who did it for experiment."

Tom laughed.

"I shouldn't like a keeper to catch me doing it."

"I said a gentleman," said Sam coolly. "So that's a young poacher, is
it?"

"Yes, and I thought it was a pity for you to give him money."

"Oh, I always like to behave well to the lower orders and servants when
I'm out on a visit," said Sam. "Here, let's get back."

"Back! why, I thought we were going for a long walk," cried Tom.

"Well, we've had one. Suppose we went further, you cannot get a cab
home, I suppose?"

"No," said Tom quietly, and with a faint smile. "You couldn't get any
cabs here."

Sam turned back, and Tom followed his example, thinking the while about
their adventure, and of what a terrible fire there might have been.

"What are you going to do with that wire?"

"Show it to uncle," said Tom quietly, "and then burn it."

"Bah! brass wire won't burn."

"Oh yes, it will," said Tom confidently. "Burn all away."

"How do you know?"

"Chemistry," said Tom. "I've read so. You can burn iron and steel all
away."

"No wonder you couldn't get on with the law," said Sam, with a sneer.
"Here, come on; I'm tired."

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

"How long's he going to stop, Master Tom?" said David the next morning
about breakfast-time, for he had come, according to custom, to see if
cook wanted anything else on account of the company.

He had stumbled upon Tom, who was strolling about the grounds, waiting
for his cousin to come down to the meal waiting ready, his uncle sitting
reading by the window.

"He's going back to-morrow, David."

"And a jolly good job too, sir, I says," cried David, "whether you like
it or whether you don't."

Tom looked at him wonderingly.

"Yes, sir, you may stare, but I speaks out. I like you, Master Tom, and
allus have, since I see you was a young gent as had a respect for our
fruit. Of course I grows it for you to heat, but it ain't
Christian-like for people to come in my garden and ravage the things
away, destroying and spoiling what ain't ripe. I know, and your uncle
knows, when things ought to be eaten, and then it's a pleasure to see an
apricot picked g