I had just completed my job when there was the sound of voices quite close, for the snow had dulled the tread of the horses of the party that approached. They were on us ere I knew, and one called out,—
"What is this? Is't an accident?"
"It is a little accident to a tobyman," said I. "A brave fellow that is come by misfortune all unknown to his mother."
"The devil!" says the voice. "We are after one such. Let us see him."
Now you conceive how I felt, for that this was a party of traps on my heels I guessed at once. So I moved a little into the shadow of the lantern, and waited while the man examined t'other.
"I do not know if this is our man," says he, "but 'tis enough if he be guilty."
"Who is your man?" asked I, emboldened by this ignorance.
"'Tis Dick Ryder," says he; "we tracked him as far as Liphook, but the one that could speak to him has been detained by a fall at the village."
"Why, this is he!" said I in triumph. "Did he not confess to being Ryder?" I asked of the others, for by this the old gentleman and his lady were both with us.