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Updated: June 19, 2025
Pete Warboys too had been compelled to slacken somewhat in his clumsy bovine rush, and Tom observed with satisfaction, as the minutes went on, and they must have been pursuer and pursued toiling over the slippery fir-needles for quite a quarter of an hour, that Pete glanced over his shoulder more often than before. "He's getting pumped out," muttered Tom.
Sam uttered a low laugh full of contempt, as he noticed the lad's eager gaze, and after sending a curl of smoke floating upon the air, he jerked the wax-match from him for a few yards, to fall beneath some old dead furze. "Have one, joskin?" he said. Pete Warboys seemed to forget the presence of Tom, and slouched forward, holding out his hand as he uttered a low hoarse "Ah!"
Tom ran up-stairs, found the articles required, and was about to descend, when, glancing from the window, he caught sight of Pete Warboys, who had raised himself by getting his toes in some inequality of the wall, and was now resting his folded arms upon the top and his chin upon them, staring hard at the mill.
Tom gave him a quick look and said nothing, but thought a good deal. Sam noticed the look, and naturally divined his cousin's thoughts. "Oh," he said, "if you want to get on in the world, it's of no use to give yourself away. I say, who is that joskin?" "Pete Warboys, half gipsy sort of fellow. I've seen him poaching. Look here, this is a wire to catch hares or rabbits with."
It seems to me that by accident you have gone the right way to work to make a change in Pete Warboys. You have evidently made him respect you, by showing him that you were the better man." By this time they were getting pretty close to Heatherleigh, and the Vicar gave Tom's arm a grip. "I'm afraid I shall not see you at church next Sunday, Tom," he said, with a smile.
"Very well, uncle," said Tom, and after another glance at the clock, which still did not seem to move, he settled down with his head resting upon his fists, to study the giraffe, of which there was a large engraving, with its hide looking like a piece of the map of the moon, the spots being remarkably similar to the craters and ring-plains upon the moon's surface, while the giraffe itself, with its long sprawling legs, would put him in mind of Pete Warboys.
And though disappointed by Pete's return after a long stay with some gipsy-like relatives of his grandmother, he could not help feeling glad that the dog displayed some gratitude for what had been done. "Pete Warboys has come back, David," cried Tom, hurrying down the garden as soon as he had ended his walk. "Yes, bad luck to him, sir. I was going to tell you. I heared of it 'bout an hour ago.
I've gone to my seat along with the singers, sir, and you may believe me when I tell you, I've never heered a single word o' the sarmon, but sat there seeing that chap after my pears and apples all the time." "Then you do give Pete Warboys the credit of it, David?" "No, I don't, sir.
You can take 'em then; it makes you smile and feel a kind o' pleasure in 'em, because they're ripe. But I'd sooner grow none than see 'em tore off when they're good for nowt. I didn't see 'em go, Master Tom, but four o' my chyce Maria Louisas has been picked, and I wouldn't insult you, sir, by even thinking it was you. It wasn't Pete Warboys, because he ain't left his trail.
"Not so long as I was, sir, I'll bet a bewry pear. Well, sir, I lay a-thinking that if mind, I only says if, sir if Pete Warboys was to die, how would it be, if master didn't say no, and I was to knock him up a barrel for a kennel to live in our yard?" "I should ask uncle to let me keep him, David, for he's a wonderful dog."
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