it fits him well. He is what you would call a lazy hound."

Saltash paid not the slightest attention to him. He was bending low, his
dark face in shadow.

"Don't be afraid!" he said again. "No one is going to hurt you. Come
along! Let's look at you!"

His hold tightened upon the shrinking form. He began to lift it up.

And then suddenly there came a sharp struggle between his hands as
lacking in science as the fight of a wild animal for freedom, and as
effectual. With a gasping effort the boy wrenched himself free and was
gone. He went like a streak of lightning, and the two men were left
facing one another.

"What a slippery little devil!" commented Saltash.

"Yes," said Antonio vindictively, "a devil indeed, milord! And I will
have no more of him. I will have no more. I hope he will starve!"

"How awfully nice of you, Antonio!" said Saltash lightly. "Being the end
of the season, he probably will."

Antonio smacked his red lips with relish. "Ah, probably! Probably!" he
said.