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"I knew it 'ud come! Good for our lorry! Two of the four of us in the ring!"

"Well, it's you next, old man," Jeff said. "If Hugh an1 I can't edge you under the Boss's eye my name's not Jeff Poole."

"Niver think of it!" said Micky, hastily. " 'Tis undher that same eye I've been only too often—don't I spend me days prayin' he'11 keep lookin' the other way? Wid you an' Hugh now, it's different, by reason of the natural impudence you have about you!" Tumult followed abruptly, and the three owners of the tent were in a confused heap among the scattered blankets when Nita peeped in. Her delighted chuckles caused a convulsion in the heap. They sat up, looking at her in some dismay.

"Do go on—I like to see you doing it!" she begged.

" 'Tis enough—I have them licked entirely," said Micky, calmly. "Were you wantin' any of us, by any chance now, darlin'?"

"I want to teil Hugh something." She was clearly bubbling over with news. "Hugh—you don't know what Daddy says?"

"Is it bad?"

"You just see if it's bad! He says you an' I can ride Tinker an' Merrylegs on the march tomorrow!"

"Not—on the road?"

"Yes. Until we get sick of it, anyhow."

"Sick of it!" gasped Hugh, who had long cast envious glances at the riders in the procession each day. "Sick of it! Golly, isn't this a day!"