While they were talking, they heard the far-off hooting of a pit.

“There goes th’ loose a’,” said Henry, coldly. “We’re not going to get that corner up to-day.”

The father looked round anxiously.

“Now, Maurice, are you sure you’re all right?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m all right. Haven’t I told you?”

“Then you sit down there, and in a bit you can be getting dinner out. Henry, you go on the stack. Wheer’s Jim? Oh, he’s minding the hosses. Bill, and you, Geoffrey, you can pick while Jim loads.”

Maurice sat down under the wych elm to recover.