bles,
cross the road into the bush beyont, and leg out fast as ye can. I'm
a-goin' ter foller, and, ef I see ye take a step 'campment way, I'll
have ye both hung, sure pop." Mr. Newcome gave the prostrate constable
two parting kicks in the ribs, and obeyed orders, while his affectionate
daughter followed, until she saw the fugitives safely on the homeward
road. Then she strayed back to the kitchen, and guessed, seeing Ben was
all safe, she'd go home, as the night was fine. She put in half an
hour's irrelevant talk with Mr. Toner after this, and, thereafter, left
him, suggesting, as she departed, that, when his watch was over, he
might look into the stables, where the horses seemed to be restless.

Simple-hearted Ben informed Mr. Bangs that he had heard noises in the
stables, which was not true. Proceeding thither with a lantern he found
only one prisoner, who, on examination, proved to be the constable. He
had attacked the unsavoury potato with his teeth as far as the tightness
of his gag allowed, and was now able to make an audible groan, which
sounded slushy through the moist vegetable medium. When released, he was
speechless with indignation, disappointment, and shame. Ben flashed the
lantern on the handkerchief, and recognized it as the property of a
young woman of his acquaintance, whereupon he registered an inward vow
to throw off a Newcome and take on a Sullivan. Bridget was better
looking than Serlizer anyway, and wasn't so powerful headstrong like.
Mr. Bangs came to see the disconsolate corporal, and Mr. Terry sought in
vain to comfort him. The detective was not sorry, save for the
possibility of the fugitives effecting a junction with Rawdon, who would
thus be at the head of a gang again. Otherwise, Newcome was not at all
likely to leave the country, and could be had any time, if wanted. As
for the unhappy lad, he had suffered enough, and if there were any
chance of his amending his company, Mr. Bangs was not the man to put
stumbling blocks in his way. But the demented constable, having
recovered his baton, began searching. He explored the stables, the
lofts, the coach-house, the sheds, examined every manger, and thrust a
pitchfork into every truss of hay and heap of straw. He came outside and
scrutinized the angle of every fence, poked every bush, peered under
verandahs, and, according to the untruthful and unsympathetic Timotheus,
rammed twigs down woodchucks' holes for fear the jail breakers had taken
refug