"Giles," said the peddler, "where was Paul Ritson night afore last?"
"Abed, I reckon," chuckled one of the new-comers.
"Where abed?"
"Nay, don't ax me. Wait—night afore last? That was the night he slept at Janet's, wasn't it?"
Gubblum's eyes twinkled with triumph.
"What, did I tell you?"
"What call had he to sleep at Keswick?" said the blacksmith; "it's no'but four miles from his own bed at the Ghyll."
"Nay, now, when ye ax the like o' that—"
Tom, the postman, stopped his grindstone and snuckered huskily:
"Maybe he's had a fratch with yon brother—yon Hugh."