I went to his assistance, and refrained with an effort from suggesting the employment of that all-accomplished setter, the dentist's dog, in the search; it was not the moment for pleasantry. Not yet.
We crept along, bent double, like gorillas; the long strips of broken stones yielded nothing, the long puddles between them were examined in vain.
"What the dooth will I do to-morrow?" raged M'Cabe, pawing in the heather at the road's edge. "How can I plead when I haven't a blathted tooth in me head?"
"I'll give you half a crown this minute, M'Cabe," said I brutally, "if you'll say 'Sessions'!"
Here the Sergeant joined us, striking matches as he came. He worked his way into the sphere of the car-lamp, he was most painstaking and sympathetic, and his oblique allusions to the object of the search were a miracle of tact.
"I see something white beyond you, Mr. M'Cabe,"' he said respectfully, "might that be them?"
M'Cabe swung the lamp as indicated.
"No, it might not. It's a pebble," he replied, with pardonable irascibility.
Silence followed, and we worked our way up the hill.
"What's that, sir?" ventured the Sergeant, with some excitement, stopping again and pointing. "I think I see the gleam of the gold!"