"Lang i' th' leg, an' strong i' th' arm," laughed another.
Joe, having got to his feet again, shambled off towards the churchyard gate.
"Bide a bit, lads," he growled. "Bide till I've getten my fist round th' heft of a knife, and I'll cut th' bleeding heart out on him."
Lomax, unaware of Joe's delicately-expressed intentions, sketched the adventure to his mother when he got back, and wondered what particular quarrel the man had with him.
"What was he like, Griff?" asked Mrs. Lomax.
"Oh, I don't know. Short and thickset, with a stubbly chin and a beery eye."
"Would you like to know who he is?"
"I should, rather. I don't seem to remember his face a bit, and I prided myself on knowing all the moorside."
"He is Joe Strangeways—your moor woman's husband."
"Nonsense, mother! It can't be."