“Shall we take a look for 'em?” asked Lockhart.
“There's no need,” I replied.
The home guard of our party received the news calmly.
Wainwright had established a modus vivendi with his young charge, and I saw that he managed to get a word out of him now and then. I had to abandon the theory that the boy was dumb, but I suspected that it was fear rather than discretion that bridled his tongue.
“Do you think the gang have got into town?” asked one.
“They'll have wet jackets if they are on the road,” I returned, looking at the rain outside.
“Hadn't we better find out?” inquired Wainwright.
“Are you in a hurry?” I asked in turn. “The landlord has promised to send up a good dinner in a few minutes.”
“But you see—”
“Yes, I see,” I interrupted. “I see this—that they are here, that there are a dozen or more of them, and that they are ready for any deviltry. What more can we find out by roaming over the country?”