“Frae Gloster, yer honner,” responded Jack, spokesman by right of sex and seniority.
“And what’s your business in Bristol?”
“Only our reg’lar business, sir. As ye see, us be cadgers.”
“But your panniers appear to be empty!” said the officer, peeping into and giving them a shake. “How is that?”
The question was awkward, nonplussing Jerky, and, the second time, calling for explanation from his sister; who, however, promptly vouchsafed it.
“Ye see, master, us be come to Bristol to take back some things Gloster way, an’ far ayont. Us belong to the Forest o’ Dean.”
“Ah! All that way off. And when left you the Forest country?”
“A good week agone, yer honner,” Jerky giving the response.
“At least that, I should say,” rejoined the officer, with a look at the wooden leg. “Well, you must have seen and met many people upon the road, especially between this and Gloucester. Can you tell me whether—”
He ceased speech abruptly, seeing it was overheard by the street passengers, who, attracted by the oddness of the group, had begun to gather round it.