d I know the missus would take to you and the
dog. You've been a brave boy and a smart one to-day. Eighteen-pence a
week and your keep to begin. Come, now!"

But Dick shook his head.

"I'm ever so much obliged, sir, but I must go on to Ironboro', whatever
happens."

"Well, then, take my advice and train it as far as your money will go.
A ticket for thirty or forty miles will get you beyond the beat of
these fair folks, and be cheaper than tramping in the end. Jump up,
and I'll drive round by the station and see about a train. Nonsense
about trouble. You've saved me more than that to-day."

Dick made a rapid calculation, and felt that he could not spend more
wisely the rider's half-crown, and, indeed, all the wonderful takings
of the day, and in a few minutes he found himself in the corner of a
third class carriage, bound northwards, with a ticket good for forty
miles of travel in his hand, and Pat's fare "seen to" by his
kind-hearted friend.

CHAPTER VI.

A HOME IN IRONBORO'.

Dick could only dimly remember one railway journey before and he curled
up in the corner of the carriage with a sense of luxurious ease and
held Pat close, rejoicing in his rescue. An old woman sat on the same
seat, dressed in a black gown and lilac print apron, with a curtain
bonnet of the same print on her head. She held tightly the handle of a
huge marketing basket that seemed full to overflowing, while on the top
a bunch of late chrysanthemums made a spot of gay colour.

Opposite, a tired-looking mother sat with two fractious children, going
home from the fair. They were very naughty at first, but the sight of
Pat's black head arrested their crying, and Dick and his dog kept them
amused till they got out at the next station. "A pity to bring
children up like that," said the country-woman, confidentially.
"Sweets enough to make 'em bad for a week, to say nothing of the
giddy-go-rounds and ginger-bread. Ah, well, 'twasn't like it in my
young days. Not that I'm against a good wholesome cake or two,
especially for young folks. I'll give _you_ one if you'll read this
letter to me?" she added, looking inquiringly at Dick. "You see, I'm
going to see my son at Manchester, and they've sent to tell me all
about the changing at Crow Junction, and I can't read writing very
well."

Dick had been enjoying the sight of fields and hedges rushing past and
trying to count the telegraph wires, but he turned at once and said,
"I'l