He sat now pondering Roy’s words, and kicking his heels against the wall, whilst his eyes roved over the road on the outside of the garden and away to a dark pine wood opposite.

“Here’s one coming then,” he said, suddenly; “now you’ll have to use it.”

“Who?  What?  Where?”

“It’s a man; a tramp, a traveller or a highwayman, and he may be all the lot together!  It’s an opportunity, isn’t it?”

Roy looked down the narrow lane outside the wall, and saw the figure of a man approaching.  His face lit up with eager resolve.

“He’s a stranger, Dudley; he doesn’t belong to the village; we’ll ask him who he is.”

“Hulloo, you fellow,” shouted Dudley in his shrill boyish treble; “where do you come from?  You don’t belong to this part.”

The man looked up at the boys curiously.

“And who may ye be, a-wall climbin’ and a breakin’ over in folks’ gardens to steal their fruit?”

“Don’t you cheek us,” said Roy, throwing his head up, and putting on his most autocratic air; “this is our garden and our wall, and the road you’re walking on is our private road!”

“Then don’t you take to insulting passers-by, or it will be the worse for ye!” retorted the man.

The boys were silent.

“I’m sure he isn’t an opportunity,” whispered Dudley.

But Roy would not be disconcerted.

“Look here,” he said, adopting a conciliatory tone; “we’re looking out for an opportunity to do some one some good, and then you came along, that’s why we spoke to you.  Now just tell us if we can do it to you.”

“Yes,” Dudley struck in:  “you seem rather down, do you want anything that we can give you?”

The man glanced up at them to see if this was boyish impudence, but the faces bending down were earnest and grave enough, and he said with a short laugh,—­

“Oh, I reckon there be just a few things I’m in want of; but as to your givin’ of them to me that be quite a different matter.  Don’t suppose ye carry about jobs ready to hand in yer pockets, nor yet my set of tools in pawn, nor yet a pint o’ beer and a good hunk of bread and meat for a starvin’ feller!  May be ye could tell me the way to the nearest pub, and stand me a drink there!”

Roy thrust his hand immediately into his pocket, and pulled out amongst a confused mass of boys’ treasures a sixpence.

“I’ll give you this if it will do you good,” he said, holding it up proudly.  “I’ve kept it a whole two days without spending it.  It will give you some beer and bread and cheese, I expect.  Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“If you go to Mr. Selby, the rector, he’ll put you in the way of work,” shouted out Dudley, as the man catching the sixpence flung down to him slouched off with muttered thanks.

“No parsons for me,” was the rejoinder.

The boys watched his figure disappear down the road, and then Roy said reflectively,—­