“We don’t, but the doctor does,” cried Macey. “I’ve just come from there.”
“Phee-ew!” whistled the constable. “They been at his fowls again? No; they’d have known in the morning. Why—no—yes—you don’t mean to say as Mr Vane’s come round enough to say who knocked him about?”
“The doctor told me to tell you he wanted you to step down to see him,” said Macey coolly; “so look sharp.”
The constable ran to the pump to wash his hands, and five minutes after he was on the way to the Little Manor.
“I’m wrong,” he muttered as he went along—“ever so wrong. Somehow you can’t be cock-sure about anything. I could ha’ sweered as that yallow-faced poople had a finger in it, for it looked as straight as straight; but theer, it’s hard work to see very far. Now, let’s hear what the doctor’s got to say.”
Chapter Twenty Eight.
Rowing Superseded.
“That there Mr Distin ’ll have his knife into me for what I said about him. Oh, dear me, what a blunder I did make!”