The old man paused, and again looked doubtfully at his companion.
"Well?" said Betts eagerly, his philosophic attitude giving way a little.
"Excep'—a large patch o' blood—fresh blood—I touched it—on one of them ole sacks lyin' near the cart," said Halsey slowly. "An' it worn't there in the afternoon, for I moved the sacks mysel'."
Betts whistled softly. Halsey resumed,—
"There was nothin' moved—or taken away—nothin' at all!—only that patch. So then I went all round the farm, and there was nobody. I thought 'ee might ha' turned back by the grass road, p'raps, without my seein' 'im, so I went that way, and there was nothin'—until—a little way up the road—there was blood again"—the old man's voice dropped—"every couple o' yards or so—a drop or two here—an' a drop or two there—just as they tracked old Watson by it, up the hill, and into yon wood—where Dempsey set on him."
The two old men looked at each other. Betts was evidently impressed.
"Are you sure it was blood?"
"Sure. Last night, Hastings said it was sheep-dip! After I tole 'im, when 'ee went to look under the shed, it wor so dark 'ee couldn't see nothin'. Well, 'ee knew better this mornin'. 'Ee fetched me, an' asst me if I'd said anythin' to Miss Janet. And I said, no. So then he tole me I wasn't to say nothin' to the ladies, nor the girls, nor anybody. An' 'ee'd done summat wi' the sack—I dunno what. But 'ee might ha' held 'is tongue last night about sheep-dip! Who's been dippin' sheep about here? 'As Miss Henderson got any ruddle anywhere about the farm? I know she ain't!—an' Muster Hastings knows she ain't."
"Why didn't yer tell Miss Janet?—about the bleedin'?"
"Well, I was a bit skeered. I thought I'd sleep on't, before I got talkin' any more. But on the way 'ome, as I tellt yer, I met Hastings, an' tole 'im, an' then give 'im notice."