ng crooned upon a tuft of grass as she prepared a place for her
eggs, the whaup wheepled and twirled and cried in eerie alarm, the
plover sighed to a low white cloud wandering past; while the snipe and
the lark, the "mossie," the heather lintie, and the wandering, sighing
winds among the reeds and rushes of the swampy moss, all added their
notes to soothe and satisfy the little wounded spirit lying there on the
soft moorland. Already he was away upon the wings of fancy in a world of
his own--a world full of dreams and joys unspeakable; a world of calm
comfort, where there was no pain, no hunger, no unpleasantness; a world
of smiles and warm delights and love.

Thus he dreamed as he watched the white clouds trailing their draperies
along the sky, till the shadows creeping over the hills, and the cries
of the heron returning to his haunts in the moor, woke him to a
realization of the fact that the school was long since out, and probably
another thrashing awaited him when he got home. Sadly and regretfully he
dragged his little aching body from its soft mossy bed, felt that his
limbs were still sore, and that he was very, very hungry. Rebellion
again surging within him as he remembered all, he trudged home, fearful
yet proud, resolved to go through with the inevitable.

CHAPTER V

BLACK JOCK'S THREAT

That same day Walker intimated to Geordie, when he was at work
underground, that a reduction was to be imposed on his ton rate, which
meant for Sinclair that it would be more difficult to earn a decent
wage. Geordie had always had it in his head to confront Walker about his
very unfair treatment of him, and on this occasion he decided to do so.

"What way are you breakin' my rate?" he asked, when Walker told him of
the reduction.

"Oh, it's no' me," replied Walker. "It's Rundell. He thinks it can be
worked for less than it's takin', and, of course, I've just to do as I
am tell'd."

"Weel, I don't ken," said Geordie. "But I've thocht for a lang while
back that you had a hand in it. Have I done anything to ye, for I don't
ken o' it?"

"Ye've never done me any harm, Geordie," replied Walker with a show of
sincerity. "What mak's ye think that?"

"Weel, for a lang time noo', I've ay been kept in hard places, or places
wi' nae air, or where there was water to contend wi'. There's ay been
something, an' I ha'e come to the conclusion that there's mair design
than accident in it."

"I dinna think so," was the repl