"Wilt take a fellow wi' thee?"

Poor company might be better than none.

"Come on."

Roger lumbered to his feet and trotted after.

"No school to-day?" he asked.

"Not for me," answered Nick, shortly, for he did not care to talk about
it.

"Faither wull na have I go to school, since us ha' comed to town, an'
plough-land sold for grazings," drawled Roger; "Muster Pine o' Welford
saith that I ha' learned as much as faither ever knowed, an' 'tis enow
for I. Faither saith it maketh saucy rogues o' sons to know more than
they's own dads."

Nick wondered if it did. His own father could neither read nor write,
while he could do both and had some Latin, too. At the thought of the
Latin he made a wry face.

"Joe Carter be-eth in the stocks," said Roger, peering through the
jeering crowd about the pillory and post; "a broke Tom Samson's pate wi'
's ale-can yestreen."

[Illustration: "'WHUR BE-EST GOING, NICK?' ASKED ROGER DAWSON."]