“‘She’s not there now,’ he says.
“‘Then,’ says I, ‘she’s gone back to meet ’em.’
“‘Then there’s something wrong,’ he says sharply; ‘and look here, Ike, if you’ve let that boy come to harm I’ll never forgive you.’
“‘Why, I’d sooner come to harm myself,’ I says. ‘It’s larks, that’s what it is.’
“‘Well,’ he says, ‘I’ll wait till twelve o’clock, and if they’re not back then you must come along with me and find ’em, for there is something wrong.’
“I never cared a bit about you, my lad, but I couldn’t sleep no more, and I couldn’t touch a bit o’ breakfast; and when twelve o’clock came, Mrs Old Brownsmith’s brother’s wife had been at me with a face as white as noo milk, and she wanted us to go off before.
“We was off at twelve, though, in the light cart and with a fresh horse; and though I expected to see you every minute along the road, we got back to the public, and asked for you, and found that you hadn’t been seen.
“Then we put up the hoss and went and looked about the sand-pits, and could see nothing of you there, and we didn’t see nothing of the dog. Then we went over the common and searched the wood, and there was no sign.
“Then back we was at the sand-pits, and there was the sand everywhere, but nothing seemed to say as it had fallen down. There was some holes, and we looked in all of ’em, but we couldn’t tell that any of ’em had filled up. Last of all, it was getting dark, when we heard a whine, and saw Juno come out of the fir-wood on the top with a rabbit in her mouth.
“But that taught us nothing, and we coaxed her down to the public again, and drove home.