'It's a standing temptation to any other party you happen to meet, though, isn't it?' John said. 'I can't see them getting very far with that once they reach the Dale.'

Pirrie said: 'We could relieve them of it now.'

'No,' John said. 'It isn't worth our while, in any case.

We've got enough meat to last us, and we should reach Blind Gill tomorrow. It would only be unnecessary weight.'

Steve began limping shortly afterwards, and examination showed him to have a blistered heel.

Olivia said: 'Steve! Why didn't you say something when it first started hurting?'

He looked at the adult faces surrounding him, and his ten-year-old assurance deserted him. He began to cry.

'There's nothing to cry about, old man,' Roger said. 'A blistered heel is bad luck, but it's not the end of the world.'

His sobs were not the ordinary sobs of childhood, but those in which experience beyond a child's range was released from its confinement. He said something, and Roger bent down to catch his words.

'What was that, Steve?'

'If I couldn't walk -I thought you might leave me.'

Roger and Olivia looked at each other. Roger said:

'Nobody's going to leave you. How on earth could you think that?'

'Mr Pirrie left Millicent,' Steve said.

John intervened. 'He'd better not walk on it. It will only get worse.'

'I'll carry him,' Roger said. 'Spooks, will you carry my gun for me?'

Spooks nodded. 'I'd like to.'

'You and I will take him in turns, Rodge,' John said.

'We'll manage him all right. Good job he's a little 'un.'