They are part of Lady Wetherby's property. I used to wander
about there in the spring when the house was empty. There's a sort
of shack in the middle of them. I shouldn't think anybody ever
went there--it's a deserted sort of place. We could leave him
there, and then--well, we might write Lady Wetherby a letter or
something. We could think out that part afterward.'
'It's the best thing we've thought of. You really want to come?'
'If you attempt to leave here without me I shall scream. Let's be
starting.'
Bill picked Eustace up by his convenient tail.
'I read a story once,' he said, 'where a fellow was lugging a
corpse through a wood, when suddenly--'
'Stop right there,' said Elizabeth firmly.
During the conversation just recorded Dudley Pickering had been
keeping a watchful eye on Bill and Elizabeth from the interior of
a bush. His was not the ideal position for espionage, for he was
too far off to hear what they said, and the light was too dim to
enable him to see what it was that Bill was holding. It looked to
Mr Pickering like a sack or bag of some sort. As time went by he
became convinced that it was a sack, limp and empty at present,
but destined later to receive and bulge with what he believed was
technically known as the swag. When the two objects of vigilance
concluded their lengthy consultation, and moved off in the
direction of Lady Wetherby's woods, any doubts he may have had as
to whether they were the criminals he had suspected them of being
were dispersed.
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