To be sure, _they_ was
gentlemen," he cried. "All I can say is, it may be very funny, but it
ain't fair."
I laboured with him in this dense fog, but to no end. He had forgotten his
badge, and we were villains for that we did not cart him to the pub or
barracks where he had left it.
Pyecroft listened critically as we spun along the hard road.
"If he was a concentrated Boer, he couldn't expect much more," he
observed. "Now, suppose I'd been a lady in a delicate state o' health--
you'd ha' made me very ill with your doings."
"I wish I 'ad. 'Ere! 'Elp! 'Elp! Hi!"
The man had seen a constable in uniform fifty yards ahead, where a lane
ran into the road, and would have said more but that Hinchcliffe jerked
her up that lane with a wrench that nearly capsized us as the constable
came running heavily.
It seemed to me that both our guest and his fellow-villain in uniform
smiled as we fled down the road easterly betwixt the narrowing hedges.
"You'll know all about it in a little time," said our guest. "You've only
yourselves to thank for runnin' your 'ead into a trap." And he whistled
ostentatiously.
We made no answer.
"If that man 'ad chose, 'e could have identified me," he said.
Still we were silent.
"But 'e'll do it later, when you're caught."
"Not if you go on talking. 'E won't be able to," said Pyecroft. "I don't
know what traverse you think you're workin', but your duty till you're put
in cells for a highway robber is to love, honour, an' cherish _me_ most
special--performin' all evolutions signalled in rapid time.
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