There was a general chorus of "Yes, sir," and a hearty salute which Mr. Yard gracefully returned.
Then the driver cracked his whip, and the brake rolled away, leaving Mr. Yard standing in the roadway.
It was three days later, when Jack, folding up the Western Morning News, tossed it across to Tubby.
"There you are," he said, "pictures and everything. We shall never hear the last of this as long as we live."
Tubby caught the paper, and, unfolding it, read out the heavily leaded headlines:
ASTOUNDING AUDACITY OF ESCAPED CONVICT.
THE NOTORIOUS BILL YARD PLAYS
FOOTBALL FOR OKESTOCK
FULL STORY AND INTERVIEWS
He skimmed quickly through the three columns of description, and then, with a grin, dropped the paper on the floor.
"We do look a pretty tidy lot of idiots," he admitted. "I wonder where he is?"
Jack shrugged his shoulders. "So do the police. They've no idea what happened to him after he got the clothes. He's simply vanished—disappeared, and my ten shillings with him." Then he paused. "I only wish it had been a quid," he added.
"Mine was," said Tubby softly.