ing their way to their
homes. This at least was satisfactory. He would no longer risk their
anger by disturbing them at their illegal practices, and had now only to
fear the wrath which would be excited when they heard what had happened
to the boy.

He started at a brisk run after them, and speedily came up to the last
of the party. They were for the most part men between twenty and thirty,
rough and strongly built, and armed with billhooks and heavy bludgeons,
two or three of them carrying guns.

One of them looked round on hearing footsteps approaching, and gave a
sudden exclamation. The rest turned, and on seeing Ned, halted with a
look of savage and menacing anger on their faces.

"Who be'est, boy? dang ee, what brings ye here?"

Ned gulped down the emotion of fear excited by their threatening
appearance, and replied as calmly as he could: "I am sorry to say that
I have had a struggle with a boy over by that rock yonder. We fell
together, and he has broken his leg. He told me if I came over in this
direction I should find some one to help him."

"Broaken Bill's leg, did'st say, ye young varmint?" one of the men
exclaimed. "Oi've a good moinde to wring yer neck."

"I am very sorry," Ned said; "but I did not mean it. I and another boy
were walking back to Marsden from fishing, and he wouldn't let us pass;
it was too far to go back again, so of course we had to try, and then
there was a fight, but it was quite an accident his breaking his leg."

"Did'st see nowt afore ye had the voight?" one of the other men
inquired.

"No," Ned replied; "we saw no one from the time we left the stream till
we met the boy who would not let us pass, and I only caught sight of you
walking this way from the top of the rock."

"If 'twere a vair voight, John, the boy bain't to be blamed, though oi
be main grieved about thy brother Bill; but we'd best go back for him,
voor on us. And moind, youngster, thee'd best keep a quiet tongue in thy
head as to whaat thou'st seen here."

"I haven't seen anything," Ned said; "but of course if you wish it I
will say nothing about it."

"It were best for ee, for if thou go'st aboot saying thou'st seen men
with guns and clubs up here on the moor, it ull be the worsest day's
work ee've ever done."

"I will say nothing about it," Ned replied, "but please come on at once,
for I am afraid the boy is in terrible pain."

Four of the men accompanied Ned back to the rock.

"Hullo, Bill! what's hap