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He was there to kidnap a child and a dog what he said was his; but I'll bet they wasn't--and that's another thing against him.
Of course he'd move on as soon as he'd got the kid, but he can't have got so very far with that old horse of his--he looked as if he'd drop dead if he was made to go another mile."
The policeman stayed to see the train depart with the crowd safely packed inside it, then turned away with Bob. He was as anxious as Bob himself to follow up the case. Policemen did not get much chance in little country places, and promotion came slowly. "What was he giving you six s.h.i.+llings for?" he asked, as Bob and he trudged up the hill from the station.
Bob looked foolish. "Oh--for--for showing him the way," he stammered.
The policeman looked at him sharply. "What way?" he asked.
"To--to Woodend Lane," he answered, shortly, wondering distractedly how he could avoid giving true explanations; but the policeman, to his relief, did not press the matter further, and whatever his thoughts were, he kept them to himself.
Presently he asked, casually, "Where was the child he wanted to get hold of? In Woodend Lane?"
"Yes--I mean I dunno. I don't know nothing about it."
"I only asked, 'cause we've had word to keep a look-out for a man, probably with a caravan, who has stolen a child and a dog from Wood--"
"Why, look, what's that over there?" interrupted Bob, in sudden excitement.
"That over there" was a shabby brown caravan, hung about with tins and brushes, standing beneath a high hedge in a corner of a distant field. From the road beneath it, it would not be visible to any pa.s.ser-by, but looking across country as they were the glitter of the tins flas.h.i.+ng in the rays of the morning sun caught the eye, and discovered the van in its hiding-place.
"Here goes!" cried the policeman, excitedly. "A chap don't get a chance like this every day. Come along, young fellow, and don't make a noise."
Avoiding every possible risk of being observed approaching, Bob Thorp, led by the constable, made his way to the field where the caravan stood. Tethered to the hedge close by was Charlie, and securely roped to the van lay poor d.i.c.k.
"That's the dog," whispered Bob Thorp, excitedly.
d.i.c.k growled slightly at the faint sounds which now reached him, and more violently when he recognised his old enemy.
"Lie down, can't you?" bellowed a hoa.r.s.e voice, roughly; and walking cautiously round to the front of the van they found the very man they were in search of lying on the ground rolled in a rug, with a couple of sacks over him. At the sight of Bob Thorp and the policeman he sprang to his feet at once.
"Anything you want, gentlemen? Anything I can sell you?" he asked, impudently. "A nice scrubbing-brush or--"
"'Tis you needs the scrubbing-brush, by the looks on you," said Bob, cheekily.
"And I want you," said the constable, sharply.
"Want me? What for?" he demanded, indignantly; but his face had suddenly turned an unhealthy gray colour, and in his eyes they could plainly read his alarm.
"Pa.s.sing bad money," answered the policeman, quietly.
"Who says so? Who brought that charge against me?"
"'Im," the policeman jerked his head and his thumb towards Bob.
"And who's he, that his word should be took agin mine? Who's to say he hasn't been pa.s.sing it himself, and--and of course he's got to put it off on someone, when he's found out."
"Well, you can fight that out before the magistrates. You've got to come along of me now. If you can explain it, that is all right, and you will soon be back again."
"All right," said Tom, agreeing, because he saw the uselessness of holding out. His brain was busy, though, trying to think out a plan.
"I must just step inside, and break it to my wife--"
"Oh yes, and empty your pockets of all the rest of the bad money you've got!" burst out Bob, unable to control himself. "Likely tale that, eh!"
The policeman stepped over and laid his hand on Tom Smith's shoulder. "There's one or two other little matters too," he said.
"You're wanted for some little affair about a girl and a dog.
Is that the dog?"
"She's my own niece--"
"Is she? All right; you've only got to prove it, and that you're her lawful guardian, and a fit and proper person--"
A sharp scream suddenly rent the air, and made them all start.
Emma Smith, waking from her heavy sleep, had heard the sound of voices, and looking cautiously out of the window, had caught sight of the policeman grasping her husband by the arm. Day and night for years she had been fearing this, and now it had actually happened!
The shock was too much for her. Scream after scream pierced their ears, as she staggered out of the van and flung herself upon her husband.
The screams, which roused d.i.c.k to a fury of barking, and startled even poor old worn-out Charlie, wakened Huldah from the deep sleep into which she had fallen, exhausted by sorrow.
Springing from her bed, she saw the policeman, and that he had his hand on her uncle, holding him securely, in spite of Aunt Emma's attack. But why was Bob Thorp there, too? Huldah recognised him with a shock of surprise and fear.
For a moment she gazed frightened yet fascinated at the group, then across her mind flashed the thought, Here was her chance of escape!
Quick as thought she caught up a knife from the table, and slipping down the steps cut the rope which held d.i.c.k, then, sheltered from view by the van itself, she clambered through the hedge with the dog at her heels, and away and away as fast as her feet could cover the ground. Her aunt's screams deadened any other noise, and her aunt's furious attack took all the attention of the three men, so that escape was easy.
It never entered Huldah's head that the policeman had come on her account, and that she was safer now than ever in her life before.
She did not know there had been time to communicate with the police, and the one thought that had filled her mind all these weary hours was escape, and getting back to Mrs. Perry.
At first she raced wildly, but before very long her strength gave out, her excitement died down. Her pace grew slower and slower, more and more halting, and then finally she stopped. Thoughts of her Aunt Emma would force themselves on her mind. If her uncle was taken to jail, her aunt would be left alone with the horse and van.
What would she do, day and night alone? How could she manage?
Could she, Huldah, go and leave her like that!--but could she live that dreadful life again! Every day going further and further from Miss Rose and Mrs. Perry, and the dear little cottage, never perhaps to see them again! Huldah sat down on a bank underneath the hedge, to try and think the matter out. d.i.c.k came back from his happy wanderings and sat beside her, staring at her with wistful eyes, for he saw that she was in trouble, but why she should be was more than he could understand,--for were they not away together, and on their way home?
He gave a little whine, and Huldah looked up at him. "Oh, d.i.c.k, what can I do? Mrs. Perry will be so frightened there alone, and she'll be troubling about us so, and--and there's Miss Rose too"--more tears trickled down Huldah's cheeks,--"yet I can't go and leave Aunt Emma all alone now, with the van and Charlie to look after, and Uncle Tom in jail. Oh, what can I do? what can I do!"
d.i.c.k was puzzled too, but at that moment a fresh burst of screams burst on her ears, terrible, noisy screams, and bitter cries and shoutings. Tom Smith was being led away by the constable, and his wife had flung herself on the ground in hysterics, real or feigned.
Huldah crept back to the hedge and peered through. Her heart was heavy as lead. Her body ached with the blows she had received the night before, and her head throbbed painfully too, but these were as nothing compared with the pain of her poor little aching disappointed heart. On the other side of the hedge she saw her aunt lying on the ground, sobbing, screaming, and beating the ground with her fists.
Huldah crept back through the hedge, and up to her side. "Aunt Emma, don't take on like that," she said, gently, trying to comfort her.
"He'll be back soon. They won't do anything to him, for certain."
She little dreamed how black the case was against him.
But the sight of the girl seemed to change her aunt's overwhelming grief to sudden and violent anger against herself. Springing to her feet, she s.n.a.t.c.hed the heavy whip from the van, and brought it down with all the force of which she was capable across Huldah's shoulders.
"It's all your fault!" she screamed, "it's all your fault! It was only to get hold of you that he offered the fellow the money, and if you hadn't run away he'd never have had to do it. 'Tis all your fault he's took, and I'll make you smart for it, my lady!" and seizing the poor shrinking, frightened child, she beat her until her arm dropped to her side exhausted.
"Stop that!" cried a stern voice, loudly. Huldah and her aunt fell back, shocked and startled by the sight of another policeman close to them. In the noise and excitement they had not heard anyone approaching. "Give me that whip."
Huldah gave one terrified glance at the man in blue, and fell fainting at his feet.
Emma Smith handed over the whip meekly enough. She was thoroughly scared now, for she never doubted that Huldah was dead, and that the policeman would declare that she had killed the child. In her terror for herself, her anxiety about her husband was forgotten. She began to wail and sob and beg forgiveness. She threw herself on the ground, calling loudly to Huldah to open her eyes and get up.
She tried coaxings and all sorts of promises, but the policeman only thrust her aside.