“I don’t know about that, but by what I can make out nothing you done wouldn’t surprise the gentleman which supplied the information,” said Stogumber dryly. “But, Capting Staple, I’d take it very kind in you if you was to explain to me why, since it seems you’ve took to gatekeeping by way of knocking up a lark, you was so careful not to let me think as you’d seen my Occurrence Book t’other night?”
“You’re fair and far off,” John replied. “I didn’t turn myself into a gatekeeper for any such reason. Nor did I know, when I saw your book, what had brought you here.”
The unblinking stare was once more bent upon him. “Oh! And do you now—if I ain’t taking a liberty?”
“Yes, I know now, which is why I’ve come to see you. You are trying to find a certain consignment of currency, which was stolen about three weeks ago at the Wansbeck ford.”
“How might you have discovered that?” demanded Stogumber, his stare hardening.
“Partly through you, partly through the man to whom you owe your life. You asked me once if I knew the Wansbeck ford. I didn’t, but when I mentioned it to—Jerry—he told me what had happened there. He reads the newspapers; I don’t. No, he had nothing to do with the robbery: in fact, his ambition is to leave his present calling, and settle down to pound dealing and married life.”
“It is, is it? P’raps he knew where the baggage was hid?”
“He didn’t know, but he knows this district,” said John significantly.
Stogumber half started up from his chair, and sank back again, wincing a little. “Are you telling me that bridle-cull has boned the fence?” he gasped.
“If you mean, has he discovered where the treasure is hidden, yes. He tells me it is where no one would ever find it who did not know this district very well.”