"No," said Peter stoutly.
"Do you know a drunken man when you see one?"
Peter thought he did, but was not certain. They were common objects, and as long as a man could proceed from one place to another, and shout occasionally, he was, according to Peter, a fairly sober person.
"Do you suppose he had fallen from his horse and stunned himself?"
"Likely," said Peter. "He'm a cruel hard rider."
"You have often seen him galloping over the moor, in what some people might call a reckless way?"
"Seen 'en often," said Peter.
"Thursday evenings usually?" went on counsel, in a pleasant conversational manner.
Peter agreed that it was so.
"You know, of course, that it is the farmer's habit on these evenings to frequent some public-house; one night at Lydford, another at Brentor, and so on? There's nothing remarkable about that, but still you are well aware of it?"