Dick Lionheart | Page 7

of boots and
some warm stockings, and a half-worn cloth overcoat and cap. "Shure,
and ye won't mind their coming from the second-hand shop with the
three yallow balls put up for ornyment. Me uncle lives there and he's
very obligin'."
Dick flushed with a mixture of gratitude and shrinking. All his
experiences at the Fowley's had not made him like to wear other
people's clothes. But the boots were such a good fit. And the jacket
would keep him so warm and be such a grand bed quilt if he and Pat
had to sleep out.
But how could he take so much from Paddy? The Irishman's quick eyes
saw and understood, and he said easily, "You can pay me back when
you're Lord Mayor of Ironboro', with a gold chain round your neck and
Pat with a leather collar and a brass plate to tell his name and nation."
"I'll pay long before that, if I live," cried Dick earnestly. "I don't mean
to beg my way, either, if I can only get work going along."
"That's right, lad, work your passage out; but anyways this half-crown
won't come amiss--we'll put it down in the ledger with the rest of the
good debt accounts. You'll look out for your uncle--a foine dark man
with brown eyes like your own, only maybe not so shiny. Give my best
respecks to him, and tell him I persuaded you to get clear away from
the villains."

Dick took out his pocket Bible to read his chapter with a glad feeling of
security. He would never need to hide it from the Fowley's again.
"Read it out, me boy, read it. There's good words in it, whatever the
praste may say." And Dick read the first chapter of Joshua, and his
voice rang out triumphantly in the words, "Be strong and of a good
courage, be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed, for the Lord thy God
is with thee, whithersoever thou goest."
"Shure, them's good marching orders," said Paddy thoughtfully. "A
body could even get past the 'Brown Bear' o' nights if he thought of
them."
"It's easy to be Lionheart when the Lord God is along," said Dick
wistfully. "I wish you wouldn't go in any more, Paddy, because I love
you so, and God wouldn't maybe care to go into such places, and you'd
have to leave Him outside."
"Just hark to the boy," said Paddy lightly, jumping up and making
ready for bed.
But long after Dick's gentle breathing told of peaceful sleep Paddy lay
wide awake, thinking of wasted money and worse than wasted health
and time, and he almost resolved to leave the drink alone for ever.
CHAPTER IV.
IN A CARRIER'S WAGGON.
There was a good breakfast ready by candle light next morning, and
then Dick and Paddy parted, with an affectionate good-bye. When the
hooters summoned the hands to the tin works at seven o'clock Pat and
his little master were out on the dark north road, with houses and
lamplight left far behind.
At first they went quickly, for fear of pursuit, but, as the short day wore
on, Dick lost his fears and enjoyed Pat's runs and gambols by the
roadside. Apparently he quite realised the new position, and had no
regrets at leaving Paddy for his lawful owner.

Their noonday lunch, provided by their kind Friend, tasted wonderfully
good, but both the travellers were feeling very tired before any prospect
of the next meal came in sight. The brief daylight was already fading
when they saw a neat thatched cottage, standing back from the
roadside.
Close to the rustic gate was a heap of firewood, logs and blocks and
smaller chips together, and an old woman was stooping painfully,
trying to carry them in.
"Let me help you," cried Dick, hurrying forward, "I'd be so glad of a
job!"
The worker looked sharply at him, and at once said, with a sigh of
relief, "I don't mind if you do. Carry them into the woodshed there and
stack them tidy, and I'll give you three-pence. You look honest, and
that's a nice little dog you've got."
"Yes, isn't he? Sit up, Pat!"
The old woman laughed, as Pat stood up obediently on his tired little
legs and begged, and Dick went on, "I don't beg myself, though I am
tramping, but Pat learned to do it before we came."
And encouraged by this friendly notice Pat wagged his tail and
immediately followed the old woman into her bright kitchen and
stretched himself on the gay rag carpet before the fire.
Like her, he kept one eye on the little toiler outside, but Dick had set to
work with a will. He plodded on, making a threefold stack in the
woodshed, with the logs