“I’ve come for the horse,” he said. “Do you know where he is?”

“He’s not ready for walking yet,” said George. “Captain Johnson told you he wouldn’t be. What’s the matter? Why have you been crying?”

“My father hit me,” said the boy. “He cuffed me and knocked me right over.”

“Whatever for?” asked Anne.

“Because I left the horse,” said the boy. “My father said all it wanted was a bit of ointment and a bandage. He has to start off with the other caravans today, you see.”

“Well, you really can’t have the horse yet,” said Anne. “It isn’t fit to walk, let alone drag a caravan. You don’t want Captain Johnson to tell the police you’re working it when it’s not fit, do you? You know he means what he says?”

“Yes. But I must have the horse,” said the small gypsy. “I daren’t go back without it. My father would half kill me.”

“I suppose he doesn’t care to come himself, so he sends you instead,” said Dick, in disgust.

The boy said nothing, and rubbed his dirty sleeve across his face. He sniffed.

“Get your hanky,” said Dick. “Don’t you ever wash your face?”

“No,” said the boy, looking quite surprised. “Let me have my horse. I tell you, I’ll be half killed if I go back without him.” He began to cry again.

The children felt sorry for him. He was such a thin, skinny misery of a boy, and goodness, how he sniffled all the time!

“What’s your name?” asked Anne.

“Sniffer,” said the boy. “That’s what my father calls me.”

It was certainly a good name for him; but what a horrid father he must have!

Haven’t you got a proper name?’ asked Anne.

“Yes. But I’ve forgotten it,” said Sniffer. “Let me have my horse. I tell you, my father’s waiting.”

Julian got up. “I’ll come and see your father and put some sense into him. Where is he?”

“Over yonder,” said Sniffer with a big sniff, and he pointed over the hedge. “I’ll come too,” said Dick. In the end everyone got up and went with Sniffer. They walked through the gate and saw a dark-faced, surly-looking man standing motionless not far off. His thick, oily hair was curly, and he wore enormous gold rings hanging from his ears. He looked up as the little company came near.

“Your horse isn’t fit to walk yet,” said Julian. “You can have it tomorrow or the next day, the Captain says.”

“I’ll have it now,” said the man, in a surly tone. “We’re starting off tonight or tomorrow over the moor. I can’t wait.”

“But what’s the hurry?” said Julian. “The moor will wait for you!”

The man scowled and shifted from one foot to another. “Can’t you stay for another night or two and then go after the others?” said Dick.

“Listen, Father! You go with the other caravans,” said Sniffer, eagerly. “Go in Moses’ caravan and leave ours here. I can put our horse into the shafts tomorrow, or maybe the next day, and follow after!”