both in my favour. I haven't had such a day since I had Sir John Morland
for trespass because he shot in his own warren."

"How on earth did you do that?"

"Look it up in the books, sir. It will repay reading--Frankland v.
Morland, Court of Queen's Bench. It cost me 200 pounds, but I got my
verdict."

"Did it do you any good?"

"None, sir, none. I am proud to say that I had no interest in the
matter. I act entirely from a sense of public duty. I have no doubt, for
example, that the Fernworthy people will burn me in effigy tonight.
I told the police last time they did it that they should stop these
disgraceful exhibitions. The County Constabulary is in a scandalous
state, sir, and it has not afforded me the protection to which I am
entitled. The case of Frankland v. Regina will bring the matter before
the attention of the public. I told them that they would have occasion
to regret their treatment of me, and already my words have come true."

"How so?" I asked.

The old man put on a very knowing expression. "Because I could tell them
what they are dying to know; but nothing would induce me to help the
rascals in any way."

I had been casting round for some excuse by which I could get away
from his gossip, but now I began to wish to hear more of it. I had seen
enough of the contrary nature of the old sinner to understand that any
strong sign of interest would be the surest way to stop his confidences.

"Some poaching case, no doubt?" said I with an indifferent manner.

"Ha, ha, my boy, a very much more important matter than that! What about
the convict on the moor?"

I stared. "You don't mean that you know where he is?" said I.

"I may not know exactly where he is, but I am quite sure that I could
help the police to lay their hands on him. Has it never struck you that
the way to catch that man was to find out where he got his food and so
trace it to him?"

He certainly seemed to be getting uncomfortably near the truth. "No
doubt," said I; "but how do you know that he is anywhere upon the moor?"

"I know it because I have seen with my own eyes the messenger who takes
him his food."

My heart sank for Barrymore. It was a serious thing to be in the power
of this spiteful old busybody. But his next remark took a weight from my
mind.

"You'll be surprised to hear that his food is taken to him by a child.
I see him every day through my telescope upon the roof. He passes along
the same path at the same hour, a