I met a postman who told me it was only twenty-three miles to
Hazleton, although, after I had covered quite four miles more, a member
of the county police told me it was still twenty-two miles. Seeing that
it would be impossible in any event to reach Colebrook Park to-day,
although I could easily manage the distance to-morrow, I did not hurry,
but, the sun being hot, allowed Patch several rests by the way, until on
making another inquiry at about half-past five that evening, I was
informed that Hazleton was still eighteen miles distant.

Although the day had been fine, the ground was still wet, far too wet to
sleep out of doors with comfort. I had economised as much as possible,
but walking is hungry work, and now I found myself with only one and
fourpence by way of capital. The consequence was that a free lodging of
some kind must be discovered, and I looked about vainly for another
empty house.

At about six o'clock I happened to pass a farm; a good-natured-looking
man stood leaning against a gate, smoking a pipe.

'Should you mind if I were to sleep in one of those barns?' I asked.

'On the tramp?' he exclaimed.

'To Hazleton,' I said.

'Pretty near twenty miles.'

'No one seems to know exactly how far it is,' I answered, and he chuckled
as he puffed at his pipe. Then he began to eye me inquisitively, and
presently, knocking out his pipe with a good deal of deliberation, he
turned and walked away. I was beginning to feel that I had met with a
rebuff, when he looked back and told me to follow him.

'Better pick up that terrier,' he said, 'because of the chickens.'

With Patch in my arms I followed the farmer round the house to an empty
shed behind.

'You can have a shake-down here if you don't mind being locked in,' he
said; and, although I would rather not have had the key turned, I at
once consented. It was a large shed, and quite clean and fresh, but
entirely bare. When I had been there about half an hour a maid opened
the door, with a plate of cold beef and potatoes in her hand, and she
stayed talking while Patch and I shared the meal. Soon after she had
gone, taking the plate and knife and fork, the farmer came again,
followed by a man with an armful of straw.

'I shall not lock you up,' he said, 'though I have been done so often
you can't tell whom to trust and whom not. If you go to the back door
to-morrow morning, you will get some breakfast.'

I have slept in more comfortable places, but still