An old woman was outside, sitting in a sagging wicker chair that creaked under her great weight. She was calling loudly to some one, Rollo! Drat the boy, where is he? Ill give him such a hiding when I get hold of him! Hallo, Old Mum, said the swing-boat man, coming up. That scamp of a Rollo gone again? Ill give him a clip on the ear if I see him, and send him over to you. Hes the laziest youngun I ever did see in my life. He is that, grumbled Old Mum. His aunts gone down to the town, and he was told to set to and clean the windows of the caravan. Theyre that dirty I cant see to knit inside! She peered at Fatty. Whos this? I dont know him. Do you want Old Man Tallery? Hes not here. Wont be back for a few days. Oh, Im sorry, said Fatty. I wanted to see him. Friend of his, the swing-boat man explained to Old Mum. Name of Jack Smith. He turned to Fatty. You sit and talk to the old lady a bit. Shell love that! What have you got in your pack?
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