A ride was one of the
pleasures dearest to his heart, and there was some
protection against immediate discovery of his imposture in
the thought that none of Tom's aforetime companions were
likely to favour him with a close inspection. As the
interloper thrust himself into some tolerably well-fitting
riding cords he wondered vaguely what manner of misdeed the
genuine Tom had committed to set the whole countryside
against him. The thud of quick, eager hoofs on damp earth
cut short his speculations. The roan cob had been brought
up to the side door.
``Talk of beggars on horseback,'' thought Stoner to
himself, as he trotted rapidly along the muddy lanes where
he had tramped yesterday as a down-at-heel outcast; and then
he flung reflection indolently aside and gave himself up to
the pleasure of a smart canter along the turf-grown side of
a level stretch of road. At an open gateway he checked his
pace to allow two carts to turn into a field. The lads
driving the carts found time to give him a prolonged stare,
and as he passed on he heard an excited voice call out,
``'Tis Tom Prike! I knowed him at once; showing himself here
agen, is he?''
Evidently the likeness which had imposed at close quarters
on a doddering old man was good enough to mislead younger
eyes at a short distance.
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