“None as I know on,” observed the flunkey, “only that I saw a queer-looking chap a-running like mad over Squire Curtis’s meadows.”
“You did, eh? What sort of customer was he?”
“Oh! an ugly, evil-looking fellow, as any one would wish to be shut of.”
“A tall chap with a black beard, and bushy eyebrows?”
“Yes, something after that fashion, as far as I could see; but I was a long way off. He seemed to me to have a cut or bruise on his ugly mug.”
“The very same!” exclaimed Brickett.
“Do you know him?”
“No; but I saw a chap answering that description washing his face and hands in the pool at Larch Green. When he caught sight of me he made off. He’s been up to something, I’ll dare be sworn—burglary, or summut of that sort.”
“I shouldn’t wonder, if it be the same as I saw.”
“Should you know ’im agen?”