l
serve me out."

"A young dog!" cried the Vicar. "I'll talk to him again."

"Labour in vain," said Uncle Richard. "As you know, I tried over and
over again to make something of him, but he would not stay. He hates
work. Wild as one of the rabbits he poaches."

"But we tame rabbits, Brandon, and I don't like seeing that boy
gradually go from bad to worse."

"It's the gipsy blood in him, I'm afraid," said Uncle Richard.

"Yes, and I don't know what to do with him."

"A good washing wouldn't be amiss."

"No," sighed the Vicar; "but he hates soap and water as much as he does
work. What am I to do? The boy is on my conscience. He makes me feel
as if all my teaching is vain, and I see him gradually developing into a
man who, if he does what the boy has done, must certainly pass half his
time in prison."

"Yes, it is a problem," said Uncle Richard. "Boys are problems.
Troublesome young cubs, aren't they, Tom?"

"Horrible, uncle," said Tom dryly.

"But to begin with: a boy is a boy," said the Vicar firmly, "and he has
naturally the seeds of good and evil in him."

"Pete Warboys had all the good left out of him," said Uncle Richard.

"No, I deny that," said the Vicar decisively.

"Well, I've seen him about for some time now, and I've never seen any of
the good, Maxted."

"Ah, but I have," said the Vicar, while Tom busied himself doing nothing
to the telescope, and began to take a good deal of interest in the
discussion about his enemy. "You will grant, I suppose, that Mother
Warboys is about as unamiable, cantankerous an old woman as ever
breathed?"

"Most willingly," said Uncle Richard, smiling. "She leads that boy
quite a dog's life. I've seen her thump him quite savagely with her
stick."

"And he deserved it," said Uncle Richard.

"No doubt; but instead of showing resentment, the boy is devoted to her;
and I know for a fact he is always bringing her rabbits and hares to
cook for herself."

"Poached."

"Yes, I'm afraid so; but I'm firmly convinced that he would fight to the
death for the poor old creature."

"Nature," said Uncle Richard; "she is his grandmother."

"Then there is some good in him," cried the Vicar; "and what I want is
to make it grow. The only question is, how it is to be done."

"Don't you think I have got problems enough over my telescope, without
your setting me fresh ones? Get some recruiting serjeant to carry him
off for raw material to turn into a soldier."

"