He distinctly heard a footstep, and rising up, walked quickly toward the spot whence the noise came.
"Who's that ?" he said, as he saw the figure of a man standing on his side of the fence, and leaning against it, with a pipe in his month.
"Who are you ?" replied the man on the fence.

"My name is Medlicot." "Oh, Mr.Medlicot, is it ?" "Is that Mr.Heathcote?
Good-night, Mr.Heathcote.You are going about at a late hour of the night." "I have to go about early and late; but I ain't later than you." "I'm close at home," said Medlicot.
"I am, at any rate, on my own run," said Harry.
"You mean to say that I am trespassing ?" said the other; "because I can very soon jump back over the fence." "I didn't mean that at all, Mr.Medlicot; any body is welcome on my run, night or day, who knows how to behave himself." "I hope I'm included in that list." "Just so; of course.

Considering the state that every thing is in, and all the damage that a fire would do, I rather wish that people would be a little more careful about smoking." "My canes, Mr.Heathcote, would burn quite as quickly as your grass." "It is not only the grass.

I've a hundred miles of fencing on the run which is as dry as tinder, not to talk of the station and the wool-shed." "They sha'n't suffer from my neglect, Mr.Heathcote." "You have men about who mayn't be so careful.

The wind, such as it is, is coming right across from your place.