“There’s no ‘buts’ about it, lad. You ought to know by this time ’at your father’s bad to shift when he’s made his mind up. You’ll maybe none be sorry ’at t’ old man went wi’ you before t’ night’s out!”
Jagger made no further remonstrance, and a few minutes later the two men left the house, after instructing Hannah to keep a light in the kitchen for another half hour and then go to bed. The door-key Maniwel put in his pocket.
“Then you can’t fairly reckon t’ job up?” he asked again when the last house on the Gordel Road had been left behind.
“Can you?” Jagger replied.
“Well, I don’t hardly know whether I’ve got t’ right pig by t’ ear,” said his father slowly; “but I’ve a sort of a notion. Happen there’s naught in it, but that’s to be tried for. Did you ever climb t’ shingle at t’ spot Nancy tells about?”
“I can’t say ’at I ever did,” he replied. “I don’t know ’at I’ve taken much notice of t’ place.”
“Me and Baldwin’s been up many a time when we were lads. It isn’t easy, but there’s ways o’ getting up ’at isn’t that hard, and a chap might light o’ one by chance and think it was a soft job, then t’ next time he tried he might find his-self bested. If Inman’s aiming to get up it’s ’cause he’s been there before, you mark my words, and he’s desp’rate anxious to get there again.”
“But what can he want up t’ cliff side?” inquired Jagger; “it’s that ’at puzzles me. A man doesn’t go bird-nesting in t’ dark.”
“That depends, my lad, on what sort o’ eggs there may happen to be i’ t’ nest. Suppose, now, he’s made a nest of his own i’ one o’ t’ hidey-holes aboon t’ shingle, and wants t’ eggs in his pocket! It’s nobbut a notion I’ve getten in my noddle, lad, but I’m going to tell you how to scram’le up, and where to look.”
“Something o’ t’ same sort was at t’ back o’ my mind,” said Jagger, “but it licks me what he could want to hide up there.”