"A fellow I never seen before, not to
my knowledge! Why--hallo!" said he, looking up and catching sight of
me.
"Hallo!" said I.
"Hallo!" said Mr. Rogers, in his turn. "Do you two know each other?"
"Why, of course we do!" said Mr. Goodfellow.
"I don't know where 'of course' comes in." Mr. Rogers eyed him with
stern suspicion. "Why were you running away from the constable?"
Mr. Goodfellow glanced towards the stout, round man, who by this time
had drawn near, mopping, as he came, a face as red as the red
waistcoat he wore.
"Him a constable? Why, I took him for a loonatic! They put the
loonatics into them coloured weskits, don't they?"
"Nothing of the sort. You're thinking of the warders," Mr. Rogers
answered.
"Oh? Then I made a mistake," said Mr. Goodfellow, cheerfully.
"Look here, my friend, if you're thinking to play this off as a joke
you'll find it no joking matter. Madam"--he turned to Miss
Plinlimmon--"is this the man who called at the cottage two days ago."
"Yes," answered Plinny; "and once before, as I remember."
"And on each occasion did you observe something strange in his
manner?"
"Very strange indeed. He kept asking questions about the house and
garden, and the position of the rooms and about poor Major Brooks,
and what rent he paid, and if he was well-to-do.
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