“No,” said Tom decisively. “We must wait till uncle comes back, and see what he says.”
“But they’ll get right away, sir, ’fore he comes back.”
“I’m afraid whoever it was has got right away, David,” said Tom; and he told his companion as much of the events of the past night as he thought necessary.
“Oh, why didn’t you come and call me up, Master Tom?” cried the gardener reproachfully. “If I’d been there we could ha’ captivated ’em, for there must ha’ been two. That there ladder couldn’t ha’ lifted itself up again, and stood ready for the one inside to get down.”
“Yes, there must have been two,” said Tom thoughtfully.
“You should ha’ comed and called me, sir—you should indeed. I’ve got as much right to take care o’ master’s property when he’s out as you have.”
“I never thought of it, David.”
“It’s on’y three ’undered and forty-nine yards and a half to my cottage, sir. You might have thought o’ me.”
“I only wish I had,” said Tom warmly. “I should have been so glad to have you.”
“Well, sir, there’s something in that,” said David, but only to repeat himself in a reproachful tone—“It was on’y three ’undered and forty-nine yards, and what’s that to a young gent like you.”