Then he let himself down and proceeded to the back of the van, where stood a pail of water and a tin basin, his simple washing apparatus.

Having sluiced bead and neck and dried them with something resembling a towel, he hooked up the pail, stowed the basin in a rack, unslung a nosebag, which he attached to the head of the old horse, and went indoors to prepare his own elementary breakfast.

That over, he put the horse into the shafts.

Barney Bill was a man of his word.

He was not going to wait for Paul; but he cast a glance round the limited horizon of the brickfield, hoping, against reason, to see the little slim figure emerge from some opening and run toward him.
"Darn the boy!" said Barney Bill, taking off his cap and scratching his wet head.
A low moan broke the dead silence of the Sunday dawn.