“See here, lads. We’ll do ony mander o’ thing to find Joe Banks’s bairn. Come on! let’s hurl ivery bit o’ calk out o’ the pit.”
There was a shout at this, and the men were about to put their project in execution, when the vicar held up his hand.
“It’s waste of strength, my lads,” he said. “I am fully convinced that none of these blocks have been moved. Better search the lanes along the road.”
“Aw raight, parson,” was the cry; and the men left the pit to proceed along the road, the vicar on in front, so as to reach The Four Alls.
Before they had gone far they encountered the rest of their party, returning without further success than that of making the announcement that the men they sought had called there about nine, and had then gone on, being taken up for a lift by a man with a cart.
“What man, and what cart?” said one of the police constables, who had now come up.
The men did not know, and this being an important point, the whole party now hastened on to the little roadside inn—a shabby, dilapidated place, whose shed at the side, which represented the stabling, was falling away from the house, and whose premises generally seemed to be arranged by the owner as places for storing rubbish, dirt, and green scummed pools of water. There was a cart with one wheel, and a mangy horse with one eye, and apparently a ragged hen with one leg, but she put down another, made a low-spirited remark evidently relating to stolen eggs, and went off pecking here and there in a disconsolate manner, as if her search for food were one of the most hopeless pursuits under the sun. There was a garden, roughly fenced in, by the side of the house; but its crop consisted of last year’s gray cabbage-stumps; while, but for the sign over the door, nearly defaced, but having visible the words “wines and spirituous,” the place could hardly have been taken for a place of refreshment, even though the occupant of this attractive spot stood at the door, showing the potency of the said “wines and spirituous” liquors in his reddened and blotched face, as he leaned against the door-post, smoking a long clay pipe, and staring lazily at the party who now came up.
“Can you give us any information about the two men who came here last night?” said the vicar.
“Say?” said the man, staring.
“Gentleman wants to know wheer them chaps is gone,” said the constable.