“It’s pretty near daylight now, I think,” ses Smith.

Lewis came out and ran up and down to dry ’imself, and finished off on ’is pocket-’andkerchief, and then with ’is teeth chattering ’e began to dress ’imself.  He got ’is shirt on, and then ’e stood turning over ’is clothes as if ’e was looking for something.

“Never mind about your stud now,” ses Mr. Cutts; “hurry up and dress.”

“Stud?” ses Lewis, very snappish.  “I’m looking for my trowsis.”

“Your trowsis?” ses Smith, ’elping ’im look.

“I put all my clothes together,” ses Lewis, a’most shouting.  “Where are they?  I’m ’arf perished with cold.  Where are they?”

“He ’ad ’em on this evening,” ses Bob Pretty, “’cos I remember noticing ’em.”

“They must be somewhere about,” ses Mr. Cutts; “why don’t you use your eyes?”

He walked up and down, peering about, and as for Lewis he was ’opping round ’arf crazy.

“I wonder,” ses Bob Pretty, in a thoughtful voice, to Smith—­“I wonder whether you or Mr. Cutts kicked ’em in the pond while you was struggling with me.  Come to think of it, I seem to remember ’earing a splash.”

“He’s done it, Mr. Cutts,” ses Smith; “never mind, it’ll go all the ’arder with ’im.”

“But I do mind,” ses Lewis, shouting.  “I’ll be even with you for this, Bob Pretty.  I’ll make you feel it.  You wait till I’ve done with you.  You’ll get a month extra for this, you see if you don’t.”

“Don’t you mind about me,” ses Bob; “you run off ’ome and cover up them legs of yours.  I found that sack, so my conscience is clear.”

Lewis put on ’is coat and waistcoat and set off, and Mr. Cutts and Smith, arter feeling about for a dry place, set theirselves down and began to smoke.

“Look ’ere,” ses Bob Pretty, “I’m not going to sit ’ere all night to please you; I’m going off ’ome.  If you want me you’ll know where to find me.”

“You stay where you are,” ses Mr. Cutts.  “We ain’t going to let you out of our sight.”

“Very well, then, you take me ’ome,” ses Bob.  “I’m not going to catch my death o’ cold sitting ’ere.  I’m not used to being out of a night like you are.  I was brought up respectable.”

“I dare say,” ses Mr. Cutts.  “Take you ’ome, and then ‘ave one o’ your mates come and get the sack while we’re away.”

Then Bob Pretty lost ’is temper, and the things ’e said about Mr. Cutts wasn’t fit for Smith to ’ear.  He threw ’imself down at last full length on the ground and sulked till the day broke.

Keeper Lewis was there a’most as soon as it was light, with some long hay-rakes he’d borrowed, and I should think that pretty near ’arf the folks in Clay-bury ’ad turned up to see the fun.  Mrs. Pretty was crying and wringing ’er ’ands; but most folks seemed to be rather pleased that Bob ’ad been caught at last.

In next to no time ’arf-a-dozen rakes was at work, and the things they brought out o’ that pond you wouldn’t believe.  The edge of it was all littered with rusty tin pails and saucepans and such-like, and by-and-by Lewis found the things he’d ’ad to go ’ome without a few hours afore, but they didn’t seem to find that sack, and Bob Pretty, wot was talking to ’is wife, began to look ’opeful.