th with its bright, bead-like eyes.

"Look wheer, my lad?"

"Look here! You don't want fifty pounds."

"Oh, don't I! Hark at him!" cried the man, laughing, and addressing the
robin.

"Why, what good would it be to you?"

"What good, lad? Why, I'd have a noo thick weskit, a plush un, before
the winter come--a red un like his'n," and he nodded towards the robin.

"Bah! Nonsense!"

"Nay, it ar'n't, lad. Them red uns are strange and warm, and lies down
like feathers. Then there's boots. I'd like a pair of the stoutest and
thickest lace-up waterproofers as I could get--not a pair of old Fatty's
cobbling, but real down good uns, out of Southampton's town."

"Yes!" panted Waller, "And what else would you do with the money?"

"Waal, I don't know about what else," said the man thoughtfully. "That
there weskit and them boots would about do for the present."

"That wouldn't cost two pounds," cried Waller; "and what would you do
with the other?"

"Bury it in an old pot," said the man, with a grin. "I know a hole as
would take that."

"Oh, Bunny!" cried the boy passionately, "I thought better of you! I
did think you were a man!"

"So I am," cried the fellow fiercely. "Who says I ar'n't?"

"I do!" cried Waller, dashing his arm away. "For the sake of a warm
waistcoat and a pair of stout boots you would give up that poor fellow
to be hanged, or see him shot!"

"Not me, lad!" cried Bunny fiercely.

"You would, sir! Why, I'd sooner go shivering and barefoot all my days
than even think of such a thing."

"Phe-ew!" growled the man, and he began scratching the thick, dark
curls, almost negro-like, that covered his head and hung over his broad
brown temples. "Why, I never thought anything like that, Master Waller.
Why, I wouldn't go and see a man shot nor hung for love or money! I
only thought about that chap as being a spy as had come here to steal
the crown; and it seemed to me, as you found him, that it'd be about
fair if you and me went snacks with the reward. Look here, my lad, I'll
get my old weskit covered with a bit of heifer-skin, and as for the
boots, why, they'll do for another winter yet if I lay 'em up pretty
thick with grease. Don't you get waxy with me, Master Waller. I didn't
mean no harm. I wouldn't hurt that poor chap, especially as you like
him."

"No, Bunny," cried the boy, catching his arm again. "I'm sure you
wouldn't; and you won't tell upon me?"

"You say I ar'n't to, Maste