"Wy, Mr.
Herl," he said, "wot the dooce are you a doin' of at this time o' night?
Are you lookin' for night 'awks or howls hafter the chickins, or did you
think I was a wistlin' bear. And you too, Squire! I thought the Hinjins
was all killed bout. Blowed if there haint hold Favosites Wilkinsonia,
and a man as looks like Chisholm! Are you campin' out, 'avin' summer
midnight manoovers for the fun o' the thing?"
Nash went back to the house. "If it's a fair question, Mr. Rawdon," said
the Squire, "where are you going at this time of night?"
"Fair enough, Squire; I'm bound for Collinwood to ketch the mornin'
train. Bye, bye! no time to lose." Off trudged the Grinstun man, once
more whistling, but this time his tune was "It's no use a knockin' at
the door."
The Squire, the detective, and the lawyer held a council of war.
"Pity we hadn't arrested that chap," remarked Mr. Nash.
"Couldn't do it," said Coristine; "there is no warrant for his arrest,
no definite charge against him. A justice of the peace can't issue one
on mere suspicion, nor can he institute martial law, which would of
course cover the case.
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