quite voluntarily,
and pride told him that he must abide by the consequences. And eight
miles of dusty road lay between him and relief. He strode along stoutly,
and tried to turn an attentive ear to a dissertation on field-mice. At
the end of the first mile he saw the sign of the Fox and Hounds peeping
through the trees, and almost unconsciously slackened his pace as he
remembered that it was the last inn on the road to Seven Trees.

"It's very 'ot," he murmured, mopping his brow with his sleeve, "and I'm
as dry as a bone."

"I'm thirsty, too," said Bassett; "but you know the cure for it, don't
you?"

"O' course I do," said the boatswain, and nearly smacked his lips.

"Soldiers do it on the march," said Bassett.

"I've seen 'em," said Mr. Walters, grinning.

"A leaden bullet is the best thing," said Bassett, stooping and picking
up a pebble, which he polished on his trousers, "but this will do as
well. Suck that and you won't be troubled with thirst."

The boatswain took it mechanically, and, after giving it another wipe on
his own trousers, placed it with great care in his mouth. Bassett found
another pebble and they marched on sucking.

"My thirst has quite disappeared," he said, presently. "How's yours?"

"Worse and worse," said Mr. Walters, gruffly.

"It'll be all right in a minute," said Bassett. "Perhaps I had the best
pebble. If it isn't, perhaps we could get a glass of water at a cottage;
athough it isn't good to drink when you are heated."

Mr. Walters made no reply, but marched on, marvelling at his lack of
moral courage. Bassett, quite refreshed, took out his pebble, and after
a grateful tribute to its properties placed it in his waistcoat pocket
for future emergencies.

By the time they had reached Seven Trees and delivered the parcel Mr.
Walters was desperate. The flattering comments that Bassett had made
upon his common-sense and virtue were forgotten. Pleading fatigue he sat
down by the roadside and, with his eyes glued to the open door of the
Pedlar's Rest, began to hatch schemes of deliverance.

A faint smell of beer and sawdust, perceptible even at that distance,
set his nostrils aquiver. Then he saw an old labourer walk from the bar
to a table, bearing a mug of foaming ale. Human nature could endure no
more, and he was just about to throw away a hard-earned character for
truth and sobriety when better thoughts intervened. With his eyes fixed
on the small figure by his side, he furtivel