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them some time." She raised her voice: "I leave it to you to see he earns his keep, Jeff; he's to do whatever you teil him." She looked at the boy. "Understand, Hugh?"

"Yes," said Hugh, soberly.

"Well, be a good boy." She did not smile: possibly because she was well aware that Big Dan, some distance away, was looking at them. Then she was gone, and Hugh's new master was regarding him gravely.

"Big chap for a roustabout, aren't you?" was his comment. "Well, you'11 grow. Catch hold of that nosebag and look as if you were busy, even if you aren't."

There was not much work at the moment. The horses installed with their nose-bags, there was nothing to do but get their own food. Two other men belonged to the lorry: a tall quiet Swede, of giant strength, named Carl, and Micky, a little red-haired Irishman, who was talkative enough for two men. Hugh trotted behind them to the mess-wagon and was given a hunch of bread and a cold chop, which he ate, like all the others, with his fingers, washing the dry food down with a mug of tea, heavily sweetened, but milkless. The Circus hands, if they deigned to notice him at all, were friendly in an off-hand manner: one small boy more or less made very little difference to them, though Jeff and Micky came in for some mild chaff on being turned into nurserymaids. No one asked Hugh any questions about his father, to his great relief. He kept very close to Jeff.

The halt was not a long one. Very soon the horses

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