Sappers and Miners | Page 4

the owner's
satisfaction. Certainly to that of his son, who was most diligent in
disposing of the fruit in this way.
Then the Colonel sauntered into the little sloping vinery where the
purple and amber grapes were hanging, and Gwyn thrust in his head;
but as there were no berries to be eaten, and it was very hot, he drew
back and went up the slope toward the wall at the top, carefully peeling
one of the pears with a fishy pocket-knife.
He was in the act of throwing a long curl of peel over the wall when a
sun-browned face appeared as if on purpose to receive it, and started
back. Then there was a scrambling noise from the other side, as the face
disappeared very suddenly, and Gwyn burst out laughing.
"Hurt yourself?" he cried.
There was the sound of scrambling, and the face re-appeared.
"What did you do that for?" cried the owner.
"To get rid of the peel, stupid."
"Well, you might have chucked a pear instead."
"All right--catch."

A pear was thrown, dexterously caught, and the newcomer immediately
took a magnificent bite out of it.
"Oh! beauty!" he cried; and then, as he began to munch, he glanced
down at the pit he had excavated with his keen teeth right to the core.
"Er! Yah!" he cried, spitting out the piece. "Why, it's all maggoty!" and
he threw the pear back with excellent aim; but it was deftly caught, and
returned in a way that would have won praise at cricket. Joe's aim was
excellent, too; but when a boy is supporting himself by resting his
elbows on the coping of a high stone-wall, he is in no position for
fielding either a pear or a ball. So the pear struck him full on the front
of the straw hat he wore, and down he went with a rush, while Gwyn
ran to the front of the wall, climbed up quickly, and looked over into
the lane, laughing boisterously.
"Got it that time, Joey," he cried.
"All right, I'll serve you out for it. Give us another pear."
The request was attended to, the fruit being hurled down, but it was
cleverly caught.
"Why this is maggoty, too."
"Well, I didn't put the maggots there; cut the bad out. The dropped ones
are all like that."
"Go and pick me a fresh one, then."
"Not ripe, and father does not like me to pick them. That's a beauty."
"Humph--'tain't bad. But I say, come on."
"What are you going to do?"
"Do?--why, didn't you say we'd go and have a good look at the old
mine?"
"Oh, ah; so I did. I forgot."

"Come on, then. Old Hardock made my mouth water talking about it as
he did this morning."
"But we should want a rope, shouldn't we?"
"Yes. Let's get Jem Trevor to lend us one out of his boat."
"All right. I'll come round."
"Why not jump down?"
Gwyn gave a sharp look up and down the lane, but no one was in sight,
and he lightly threw his legs over, and dropped down beside his
companion.
"Don't want any of the boys to see that there's a way over here," he said,
"or we shall be having thieves. I say, Joe, father's been talking about
the old mine at breakfast."
"Then you told him what Captain Hardock said. I told my father, too."
"What did he say?"
Joe Jollivet laughed.
"Well, what are you grinning at? Why don't you speak?"
"Because you're such a peppery chap, and I don't want a row."
"Who's going to make a row? What did the Major say?"
"Sha'n't tell you."
"Who wants you to? It was something disrespectful of my father, and
he has no business to. My father's his superior officer."
"That he isn't. Your father was cavalry, and my father foot."
"And that makes it worse," said Gwyn, hotly. "Cavalry's higher than

infantry, and a major isn't so high as a colonel.--What did he say?"
"Oh, never mind. Come on."
"I know what he said; and it's just like the Major. Just because his
wounds come out bad sometimes, he thinks he has a right to say what
he likes. I believe he said my father was a fool."
"That he didn't," cried Joe, sharply; "he said he'd be a fool, if he put any
money in a mine."
"There, I knew it, and it's regularly insulting," cried Gwyn, with his
face flushing and eyes sparkling. "I shall just go and tell Major Jollivet
that my father--"
"Oh, I say, what a chap you are!" cried Joe, wrinkling up his rather
plump face. "You're never happy without you're making a row about
something. Why don't you punch my head?"
"I would for two pins."
"There, that's more