umber of eight or
nine, into his breast-pocket and buttoned his jacket.

"Hurrah!" he muttered. "Safe. Now for home."

He had hardly conceived this thought, when a sound overhead caught his
ear, and he felt for the moment that Pete had come to see what he was
doing. The next minute he was in full flight, pursued by Tom, as we
have seen, and at last reached the ground, thanks to the help of Pete,
who, after lying in hiding while the ladder was lowered, hurriedly
raised it again.

Just as Tom was half-way down Pete gave the ladder a wrench, hoisted one
leg, and sent it sidewise. Then--

"This way," he whispered, catching Sam's hand, guiding him to the corner
of the yard, and as soon as they were over leading the way at a steady
dog-trot.

"You keep alongside me," he said; "I'll show yer a near cut. Where do
you want to go?"

"I want to get on the main road two or three miles away," whispered Sam.

"All right. Did you get it?"

"Yes, but don't talk."

"Shall if I like," growled Pete. "I say, look here. I arn't seen you
ter-night, and I don't know nothin' about that ladder. Let 'em think it
was Tom Ugly Blount. But I say, you'll give me another shillin'?"

"I'll give you two," panted Sam, "if you'll promise never to blab."

"You're a good 'un," said Pete, laughing softly. "Won't ketch me
talking. Hand over; and if you come down again I'll help yer any night.
I hates that there t'other chap, but I likes you."

"Thankye," said Sam, who gave the lad a couple of shillings more, when,
as good as his word, Pete guided him to the road a good three miles on
his way.

"Good-night, mate," the lad said, holding out his hand.

"Mate!" thought Sam in disgust, as he felt constrained to shake hands.

"I say, I know: you're going on to London."

"Am I? you don't know," said Sam hurriedly. "But I say, are you going
home to bed now?"

"No," said Pete, with a chuckle; "I'm going back to my roost in the
wood. Good-night, matey."

"Good-night," said Sam; and he started off at a rapid rate along the
hard road, feeling the papers tightly buttoned up in his pocket, where
they soon grew hot, and as if they were going to burn his chest. "Oh,
what a terrible walk," he muttered; "and that fellow will know I'm
making for London. Don't matter," he said directly after; "he won't
tell tales, and if he comes up, ferrets us out, and wants more money,
the gov'nor 'll have to pay."

Pete went back to his sandy hole, an