“Have you got any black beer?” he now asked.
Mrs Slee had—a little, and the bottle of black beer, otherwise spruce, being produced, Sim had a teaspoonful of the treacly fluid mixed in a mug of hot water with a little sugar; and then, leaving his wife to have her meal, he rose and went out.
A week had passed since the discovery of the loss of the bands, and though Sim had been dodging about and watching in all directions, he had never once hit upon Joe Banks alone, so he had at last made up his mind to go straight to his house, and, to use his own words, “beard the lion in his den.”
A good deal had taken place in the interval, and among other things, Richard Glaire, in opposition to the advice of his mother and Banks, had applied for a warrant against Tom Podmore, for destroying or stealing the bands; but as yet, from supineness or fear on the part of the local police, it had not been put in force.
For things did not look pleasant in Dumford; men were always standing about in knots or lounging at the doors of their houses, looking loweringly at people who passed. There had been no violence, and, in a prosperous little community, a week or two out of work had little effect upon a people of naturally saving habits and considerable industry; but those who were wise in such matters said that mischief was brewing, and it was reported that meetings were held nightly at the Bull and Cucumber—meetings of great mystery, where oaths were taken, and where the doors were closed and said to be guarded by men with drawn swords.
“Hallo, Sim Slee, off preaching somewhere?” said a very stout man, pulling up his horse as he overtook Sim on his way to the foreman’s house. He was indeed a very stout man, so stout that he completely filled the gig from side to side, making its springs collapse, and forming a heavy load for his well-fed horse.
“No, I ain’t going preaching nowheer, Mester Purley,” said Sim, sulkily, as he looked up sidewise in the speaker’s merry face.
“I thought you were off perhaps to a camp meeting, or something, Sim, and as I’m going out as far as Roby, I was going to offer you a lift along the road.”
There was a twinkle in the stout man’s eyes as he spoke, and he evidently enjoyed the joke.
“No, you warn’t going to offer me a ride, doctor,” said Sim. “Do you think I don’t know?”