“Aren’t seen no lads with no red caps up here,” said the man with a vacant look. “Have he runned away?”
“Are you sure you haven’t seen him, my lad?” growled Gurr; “because, look here, it may be a serious thing for some of you, if he is not found.”
The man shook his head, and stared as if he didn’t half understand the drift of what was said.
Gurr turned angrily away, and to find himself facing Dick.
“Well, seen anything suspicious?”
“No, sir,” said Dick, “on’y my fingers is a itchin’.”
“Scratch them then.”
“Nay, you don’t understand,” grumbled Dick. “I mean to have a turn at that chap, Master Gurr, sir. I feel as if I had him for ’bout quarter hour I could knock something out of him.”
“Nonsense! Come along. Now, my lads, forward!”
Jemmy Dadd’s countenance changed from its vacant aspect to one full of cunning, as the party from the cutter moved off, but it became dull and semi-idiotic again, for Gurr turned sharply round.