Skif thought quickly. “Wuz runnin’ errand, came back, an saw t’fight,” he said, trying to look absolutely innocent. “Saw beaks in’t, an—well, ‘ad t’spook, Beel. Couldn’ do nothin’, so I ’ad t’spook.”

Beel nodded. “But then where have you been? Why didn’t you come to—”

Skif took a chance and interrupted. “Beel—I cain’t go back t’ Nuncle Londer,” he whispered. “Them beaks, they want me t’tell ‘em stuff ’bout Maisie—but ye know tha’s stuff Nuncle don’ want me t’tell!”

The corners of Beel’s mouth turned down, but he took his hand from Skif’s shoulder. “It would be wrong of me to—put temptation in the path of anyone, let alone my own father,” he said reluctantly. He didn’t say what temptation, but they both knew what it was. “Just tell me—no, don’t tell me where you are and what you’re doing—but are you continuing with your lessons, at least?”

Skif groaned, and Beel smiled reluctantly. “Am I! They’s wus’n you! Set me a sum, I dare ye!”

“Twelve plus fifteen,” Beel asked instantly, knowing that Skif couldn’t have added that when he’d run.

“Twenny—” Skif screwed his eyes shut and concentrated. “Twenny-se’en!” He looked up at his cousin triumphantly. Beel lifted his hands, conceding defeat.

“But what should I say if my father asks if I’ve seen you?” the priest wondered out loud, worriedly. “Lying—”

Skif clambered up into the hay. “Tell ‘im ye seed me i’ cattle market, then ina farm cart frum t’country,” he suggested pertly. “An ’twon’t e’en be a fib!”

Now Beel smiled ruefully, and shook his head. “You’re too quick and facile for your own good, Skif,” he said. “You worry me. But all right—if my father thinks you’ve gone and hired yourself out as farm labor, he’s not going to bother trying to find you.” He rested one hand on Skif’s head—in a blessing?—and moved off into the crowd.

Fortunately no one else seemed to have been paying any attention to this interchange. Skif clambered down out of the cart—reluctantly, for the hay had been soft and warm—before anyone from the trick riders’ group could scold him for being up there.

He was still sweating, just a little. That had been a narrow escape. How could he ever have guessed that Beel of all people would show up here? This was not the sort of atmosphere he’d expect a priest to seek out!

He looked anxiously for Raf, hoping the older boy hadn’t been caught. After much too long a wait, he spotted Raf working his way through the crowd coming toward him. The relief was enough to make him feel light-headed.