CHAPTER XXVI
A CHARGE OF MURDER
The farmer lumbered along at my side for a while, puffing and blowing hard, and as we climbed a hilly field we had to call a halt.
"I'm not so young as you," he said, gasping and wiping his forehead.
"I'm very anxious to get to my friend," I replied.
"He didn't seem very anxious to see you; at least he didn't say anything about any friend; but it was a hint from him which sent me down to that barn of mine to look for you."
"What did he say?" I asked, seeing that there was something behind his words.
"We've had a very rough character about these parts for some time past--a rascal that has been robbing right and left and has knocked one or two of the neighbours on the head--and I was speaking of him to my wife before the old stranger, and he turned and said he had seen a man of the sort in the barn there."
I laughed but held my tongue.
"You must excuse me, but is there anything funny about the old gentleman? He is a gentleman, of course; I could see that in a twinkle?"