with him. He was careful not to compromise him. The instant the most
momentary _tete-a-tete_ was possible, he would rush up, offer him
something he had found or stolen, and hurry away again. That he was a
thief Clare had not the remotest suspicion. He had never offered him
anything to suggest theft.

By and by it came to the knowledge of Clare's enemy that there was a
friendship between them, and the discovery wrought direness for
both. One day Simpson saw Clare coming, and Tommy watching him. He
laid hold of Tommy, and began cuffing him and pulling his hair, to
make him scream, thinking thus to get hold of Clare. But
notwithstanding the lesson he had received, the rascal had not yet any
adequate notion of the boy's capacity for action where another was
concerned. He flew to the rescue, caught up the crutch Simpson had
dropped, and laid it across his back with vigour. The fellow let Tommy
go and turned on Clare, who went backward, brandishing the crutch.

"Run, Tommy," he cried.

Tommy retreated a few steps.

"Run yourself," he counselled, having reached a safe distance. "Take
his third leg with you."

Clare saw the advice was good, and ran. But the next moment reflection
showed him the helplessness of his enemy. He turned, and saw him
hobbling after him in such evident pain and discomfiture, that he went
to meet him, and politely gave him his crutch. He might have thrown it
to him and gone on, but he had a horror of rudeness, and handed it to
him with a bow. Just as he regained his perpendicular, the crutch