“I’m saying naught,” returned his father, “ ’cause I’ve naught but a notion to go by. I’m same as I’ve fun a lock that’s short of a key. You’ll see what you make out, lad, but it wouldn’t cap me if you were to find summat ’at’ll make your eyes bulge.”
He refused to say any more, and they crossed the fields to the ravine in silence until Jagger laid his hand on his father’s arm.
“I could ha’ thought there was somebody i’ front of us,” he said. “Hark you!”
They were at the very entrance to the chasm and at the foot of the rocks with the screes above them. Both men listened intently, but there was no sound except the flapping of a bird’s wings high above.
“It’s been one o’ t’ daws you heard,” said Maniwel.
“I didn’t hear it exactly,” replied Jagger; “I sensed it.”
“You’re nervy, lad,” said his father. “It’s as well I came wi’ you. Now just take a bit o’ notice while I tell you which way to go.”
His voice sounded loud and Jagger remonstrated with him in a low voice, but Maniwel was unmoved.
“We’er doing naught to be ashamed on, lad, and there’s no ’casion to muffle t’ clappers. If you find aught ’at we’ve no concern wi’ you’ll leave it where it is; and if you chance across summat ’at doesn’t belong either to Inman or us you’ll bring it down and we’ll let t’ police have it. Put this box o’ matches i’ your pocket. You’ll mebbe want a light before you’ve finished, and I don’t know ’at it matters if anybody sees you.”
“I’m down about your being by yourself if Inman comes,” said Jagger.