Goodfellow sat before a plate of bread and
cream, he helped himself to a mass of veal pie fit for a giant, and
before attacking it drained a tankard of cider at a single pull,
while he nodded over the rim to Captain Branscome, to whom Plinny
introduced him.
"Jack," said Miss Belcher, with a jerk of her thumb towards the
Captain, "I'll lay you two to one in guineas, that our news is more
important than yours!"
"I take you," said Mr. Rogers.
"It will save time if we tell it while you're eating, and will save
you the trouble of talking with your mouth full."
Once or twice, while she abridged Captain Branscome's narrative,
Mr. Rogers set down knife and fork, and stared at her with round
eyes, his jaws slowly chewing.
"And I reckon," concluded Miss Belcher, "that you won't dispute your
owing me a guinea."
"Wait a bit!" Mr. Rogers pushed his empty plate away, selected a
clean one, and helped himself to six slices of ham. "To begin with,
I've found scent and laid on the hounds."
"Where?"
"At St. Mawes. Captain Coffin, the murdered man, landed there from
the ferry on the night of the 11th, at a few minutes before nine, and
walked straight to the Lugger Inn, above the quay. There he borrowed
fifteen shillings off the landlord, who knew him well; ordered two
glasses of hot gin-and-water, drank them, paid down sixpence, and
took the road that leads east through Gerrans village.
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