Bob Pretty wouldn’t believe it; he said ’e couldn’t. And even when it was pointed out to ’im that Keeper Lewis was follering of ’im he said that it just ’appened he was going the same way, that was all. And sometimes ’e’d get up in the middle of the night and go for a fifteen-mile walk ’cos ’e’d got the toothache, and Mr. Lewis, who ’adn’t got it, had to tag along arter ’im till he was fit to drop. O’ course, it was one keeper the less to look arter the game, and by-and-by the squire see that and took ’im off.
All the same they kept a pretty close watch on Bob, and at last one arternoon they sprang out on ’im as he was walking past Gray’s farm, and asked him wot it was he ’ad in his pockets.
“That’s my bisness, Mr. Lewis,” ses Bob Pretty.
Mr. Smith, the other keeper, passed ’is hands over Bob’s coat and felt something soft and bulgy.
“You take your ’ands off of me,” ses Bob; “you don’t know ’ow partikler I am.”
He jerked ’imself away, but they caught ’old of ’im agin, and Mr. Lewis put ’is hand in his inside pocket and pulled out two brace o’ partridges.
“You’ll come along of us,” he ses, catching ’im by the arm.
“We’ve been looking for you a long time,” ses Keeper Smith, “and it’s a pleasure for us to ’ave your company.”
Bob Pretty said ’e wouldn’t go, but they forced ’im along and took ’im all the way to Cudford, four miles off, so that Policeman White could lock ’im up for the night. Mr. White was a’most as pleased as the keepers, and ’e warned Bob solemn not to speak becos all ’e said would be used agin ’im.
“Never mind about that,” ses Bob Pretty. “I’ve got a clear conscience, and talking can’t ’urt me. I’m very glad to see you, Mr. White; if these two clever, experienced keepers hadn’t brought me I should ’ave looked you up myself. They’ve been and stole my partridges.”