Lord Woodruff smiled and shook his head.
Chapter Eleven.
Circumstantial Evidence.
Have you ever stood near a bee-hive when something unusual was going on inside? When a swarm was meditated, or you had cut off the communication with a super which you meant to take? Just such a buzz and murmur as then arises might have been heard in Weston court-yard when the boys poured out from the schools, only increased so much in volume as the human vocal organs are more powerful than the apiarian. And surely not without cause, for the scene which had just been enacted, without any rehearsal, for their benefit was simply astounding.
“Fancy Tom Buller the chief of a gang of poachers!” cried Saurin. “By Jove, I did not think it was in him, and fairly confess that I have not done him justice. He is a dark horse and no mistake.”
“Why, you don’t for a moment suppose that there is anything in it, do you?” asked Robarts, who heard him.
“I don’t know, I’m sure,” replied Saurin; “perhaps not. Awful liars those keeper chaps, no doubt. We shall know all about it in time, I suppose.”
“It would not be bad fun if one got a fair price for the game one took,” said Griffiths. “But the risk and difficulty of selling it would be so great that one would be certain to be robbed.”