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They were stumbling on, Roy gasping and panting for breath, and Dudley every minute or two giving a shout, when suddenly almost as if he had risen from the ground, a lad appeared in front of them. "We're lost," shouted Dudley; "who are you? Can you tell us where Crockton village is?" "Ay, can't I! You're only about four mile off!" "Is it straight on?" questioned Roy, wistfully.
"No, you're goin' away from it." The lad stood looking down at the two small boys and there was some pity in his tone. "The little 'un is dead beat. Here let me hoist you on my back, I'd as lief go to Crockton as anywhere else to-night, and I know every inch of these hills, I've been looking after cattle here since I were a babby! There now, ain't that better?"
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