“Who? Tom Podmore! Yah!” said the foreman, in a tone of disgust; and then with a chuckle. “I dessay he’d like to gi’e you one, Maister Dick; but go and steal the bands! It ain’t in him.”
“But I tell you I saw him!” cried Richard.
“Saw him? When?”
“Hanging about the works here last night between nine and ten.”
“You did!” cried the foreman, eagerly.
“That I did, myself,” said Richard, while the vicar scanned his eager face so curiously that the young man winced.
Joe Banks stood thinking with knitted brow for a few moments, and then, just as Mrs Glaire was going to interpose, he held up his hand.
“Wait a moment, Missus,” he said. “Look here, Maister Richard, you said you saw Tom Podmore hanging about the works last night?”
“I did.”
“There’s nobbut one place wheer a chap could ha’ been likely to ha’ gotten in,” said Banks, thoughtfully. “Wheer might you ha’ sin him?”