"Take it with you."
"I won't take it in the jug, lest I forget to bring it back. Your very good health, Mr. Drake—and I'll give anyone thirty-five shillings for that musical box."
George hurried into the town next morning, and ascertained from a porter who had relations in Highfield, that the muddled Mudges had started upon their journey in the right direction shortly after midnight, by obtaining an introduction to the guard of a goods train and travelling—contrary to all regulations—in his van. The porter mentioned that the guard had possibly been influenced by the fact that Bessie was carrying a basket of delicacies, while the neck of a bottle protruded from the pocket of Robert's overcoat.
Satisfied on this point, George visited a certain place of business, and interviewed the manager who promised to send up to Highfield, very early on the following morning, two furniture vans, with sufficient men to do the packing in one day. The simplicity of working out a plot caused George to laugh aloud; also to treat himself to a luncheon from which bread and margarine pudding was rigorously excluded.
On the way home he sighted, in the dip of the road, a pair of strolling youngsters, boy and girl, who looked back often as if expecting somebody; the back of the one, and the beauty of the other, seemed familiar. Suddenly the girl took to her heels and raced round the bend, while the boy allowed George to draw up to him.
"Why does the little girl run so fast?" asked George in a paternal fashion.
"She's full of beans," replied Sidney.
"Taking a holiday?" George continued.
"I fancied a friend might be coming by the three o'clock train; but I've had the walk vor nothing."
"Another young lady, I suppose?"