The two men stared at the speaker, open-mouthed, amazed. Again they turned to each other.
“A horse and kerridge!” they exclaimed in a breath.
Then they broke into a loud laugh. Now it was the turn of Kearns and the Professor to exchange glances of astonishment. That a simple request to be supplied with information as to where a horse and carriage could be hired should produce such results was certainly amazing.
Kearns stepped nearer to Dean. “I believe these fellows are crazy,” he whispered. “Perhaps they have escaped from the Weldon Asylum.”
“The smaller man seems a case of senile dementia,” whispered back the Professor, cautiously; “but the larger fellow looks to me like a dangerous lunatic—possibly a homicidal maniac. We may be in danger of our lives!”
While this colloquy was in progress, the rustics had not taken their eyes off the strangers for an instant. The taller of the two again spoke up.
“A horse and kerridge,” he said. “Maybe if ye had a pitchfork apiece ye could scoot away through the air, leaving only a streak of brimstone behind ye. I’ve heerd tell o’ sech things!”
Kearns’ quick temper flashed up. He advanced upon the speaker.
“Confound you, you impudent——”
“Run fer it, Jem; run fer it!” yelled the smaller man apprehensively. “They’re a-goin’ to spell!” He took to his heels at full speed.