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Chapter 5
Goodmorning.You’llknowmethenexttimeyouseeme.”
Clearlymyget-upwasgoodenoughforthedreadedSurveyor.Iwentonwithmywork,andasthemorninggrewtowardsnoonIwascheeredbyalittletraffic.Abaker’svanbreastedthehill,andsoldmeabagofgingerbiscuitswhichIstowedinmytrouser-pocketsagainstemergencies.Thenaherdpassedwithsheep,anddisturbedmesomewhatbyaskingloudly,“Whathadbecomeo’Specky?”
“Inbedwi’thecolic,”Ireplied,andtheherdpassedon....
Justaboutmiddayabigcarstoledownthehill,glidedpastanddrewupahundredyardsbeyond.Itsthreeoccupantsdescendedasiftostretchtheirlegs,andsaunteredtowardsme.
TwoofthemenIhadseenbeforefromthewindowoftheGallowayinn—onelean,sharp,anddark,theothercomfortableandsmiling.Thethirdhadthelookofacountryman—avet,perhaps,orasmallfarmer.Hewasdressedinill-cutknickerbockers,andtheeyeinhisheadwasasbrightandwaryasahen’s.
“Morning,”saidthelast.“That’safineeasyjobo’yours.”
Ihadnotlookedupontheirapproach,andnow,whenaccosted,Islowlyandpainfullystraightenedmyback,afterthemannerofroadmen;spatvigorously,afterthemannerofthelowScot;andregardedthemsteadilybeforereplying.Iconfrontedthreepairsofeyesthatmissednothing.
“There’swaurjobsandthere’sbetter,”Isaidsententiously.“Iwadratherhaeyours,sittin’a’dayonyourhinderlandsonthaecushions.
