"We've lawst anuvver gun somewhere," explained Sam. "My mate 'ere laid it dahn a minit while we ran arfter this blarsted chicking," and he held up the poor, mangled bird, quickly permitting his hand to fall again.
"In which direction?—and how far?—and how long since?" asked the policeman, still smiling.
"Arsk me pal, 'ere," replied Sam with a touch of malice in his tone. "'E knows," and, turning to his companion, he added—"don't yer, Bert?"
"Go to blazes!" snapped Bert under his breath, as the horseman surveyed him with twinkling eyes. Aloud, he said: "This country looks everywhere the same to us, officer. How on earth do you manage to find your way about, when all these bally woods and things resemble each other so much?"
"You boys oughta keep track of the sun," answered the policeman; "and get wise to the direction of the wind; and learn all about the points of the compass—north, south, east and west, y'know. You're liable to get into all kinds of jackpots if you don't. But you'll catch on in time, I guess."
"Splendid idea, that, Sam—noticing where the sun is," said Bert.
"Even if you are Englishmen," continued the policeman, "you boys'll likely know that it rises in the east?" and he waved with a gauntleted hand to where the sun was pouring streams of dazzling brightness from a greenish-blue sky.
"Yes, we know that much, I think," observed Bert quietly.
Sam, who liked his streets named, said: "But 'ow d'yer know which is east, Capting?"
"Why, where the sun rises, of course."