beyond the beat of these fair folks, and be cheaper than tramping in the end. Jump up, and I'll drive round by the station and see about a train. Nonsense about trouble. You've saved me more than that to-day."

Dick made a rapid calculation, and felt that he could not spend more wisely the rider's half-crown, and, indeed, all the wonderful takings of the day, and in a few minutes he found himself in the corner of a third class carriage, bound northwards, with a ticket good for forty miles of travel in his hand, and Pat's fare "seen to" by his kind-hearted friend.

CHAPTER VI.

A HOME IN IRONBORO'.

Dick could only dimly remember one railway journey before and he curled up in the corner of the carriage with a sense of luxurious ease and held Pat close, rejoicing in his rescue. An old woman sat on the same seat, dressed in a black gown and lilac print apron, with a curtain bonnet of the same print on her head. She held tightly the handle of a huge marketing basket that seemed full to overflowing, while on the top a bunch of late chrysanthemums made a spot of gay colour.

Opposite, a tired-looking mother sat with two fractious children, going home from the fair. They were very naughty at first, but the sight of Pat's black head arrested their crying, and Dick and his dog kept them amused till they got out at the next station. "A pity to bring children up like that," said the country-woman, confidentially. "Sweets enough to make 'em bad for a week, to say nothing of the giddy-go-rounds and ginger-bread. Ah, well, 'twasn't like it in my young days. Not that I'm against a good wholesome cake or two, especially for young folks. I'll give you one if you'll read this letter to me?" she added, looking inquiringly at Dick. "You see, I'm going to see my son at Manchester, and they've sent to tell me all about the changing at Crow Junction, and I can't read writing very well."

Dick had been enjoying the sight of fields and hedges rushing past and trying to count the telegraph wires, but he turned at once and said, "I'll read it with pleasure, if I can. And I'm getting out at Crow Junction, and I can help you change, if I can find out what it means."

"It's getting out of one train into another, and you might carry my basket, maybe. You see, I've got a band-box, and my umbrella and pattens besides. I had to bring them, not knowing how the roads might be up there, and with damp feet I get rheumaticy directly."

Dick managed to get through the ill-spelled letter, and learned its instructions by heart, and then was rewarded with a home-made flakey cake, out of the big basket, that was better than all the fairings they had left behind.

It was splendid to feel that the swift engine was bearing him on towards his destination so easily, and that every mile made one less to be tramped on foot.

Both Pat and his master would have been willing to travel on all night by rail, but the forty miles were soon passed, and they got out at the busy junction.

The old woman was helped in her changing, and then Dick earned twopence by carrying a heavy portmanteau for another passenger. And then the two pilgrims took to the road again.

The days that followed were very much alike, and in after years Dick remembered little about this part of the journey.

Sometimes he earned enough to buy a meal or pay for a humble night's lodging, but they would often have been very hungry but for Paddy's half-crown. This was spent carefully, a penny at a time, and chiefly for dry bread.

The last sixpence had been changed when a sign-post with the words "Ironboro' two miles" was passed. Dick took off his cap and looked up to the wintry sky with joy and gratitude, and there and then thanked God.

No Lionheart crusader could have felt more fervent gladness at the first sight of the Holy City!

Bub Dick's goal did not look very promising, as he drew near. A pall of smoke hung low over the narrow streets, tall chimneys sent black clouds into the biting air, and there was the clang and whirl of machinery, and the throb of huge hammers going on all the time.

He was entering the town by the least inviting road. On one side were rows of miserable houses with broken windows and grimy walls and doors, that looked as if all their brightness had gone into the smart public-houses on each corner.

On the other side stretched a piece of waste land, where iron clinkers and slag lay in great heaps, and rubbish of all kinds was deposited. Not a blade of grass or tree could be seen, and the children playing and quarrelling together were as dingy as the dirt they played with.

Two big lads were standing by the edge of a dark pool, not far from the roadside, laughing at something that wriggled in their hands.

Suddenly a little girl darted across and snatched at this, crying, "It's my kitty! It's mine, I tell you. Give her to me, she's mine!"

But the cruel tormenter only held the kitten higher, and showed the string and the stone his companion was tying to her neck.

The little girl screamed aloud, and flung herself upon him in a vain attempt to reach the kitten, which was mewing pitifully. In her excitement she was in great danger of falling into the black water.

"Now then, one, two, three, and——" Before he could finish and throw the captive in, Dick had sprung to the rescue.

"For shame! How can you be such a coward?" he cried, seizing the outstretched arm of the bully so fiercely that he released his hold.

"And who are you, I should like to know? Take that for interfering!" And he flung out his clenched fist for a terrific blow.