The man was asleep or something. Fancy choosing
the Dingle of all places to sleep in, where you can't go a couple of
yards without running into a keeper! He hadn't even the sense to run. I
yelled to him to look out, and then I hooked it myself. And then the
nearest keeper, who'd just come down a buster over a rabbit-hole,
sailed in and had him. I couldn't do anything, of course.'
'Jove, there'll be a fair-sized row about this. The Old Man's on to
trespassing like tar. I say, think Plunkett'll say anything about you
being there too?'
'Shouldn't think so. For one thing I don't think he recognized me.
Probably doesn't know me by sight, and he was fast asleep, too. No, I
fancy I'm all right.'
'Well, it was a jolly narrow shave. Anything else happen?'
'Anything else! Just a bit. That's to say, no, nothing much else. No.'
'Now then,' said Reade, briskly. 'None of your beastly mysteries. Out
with it.'
'Look here, swear you'll keep it dark?'
'Of course I will.'
'On your word of honour?'
'If you think--' began Reade in an offended voice.
'No, it's all right.
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