But just then the squire came riding up with two friends as was staying with ’im, and he offered a reward of five shillings to the man wot found it.  Three or four of ’em waded in up to their middle then and raked their ’ardest, and at last Henery Walker give a cheer and brought it to the side, all heavy with water.

“That’s the sack I found, sir,” ses Bob, starting up.  “It wasn’t on your land at all, but on the field next to it.  I’m an honest, ’ardworking man, and I’ve never been in trouble afore.  Ask anybody ’ere and they’ll tell you the same.”

Squire Rockett took no notice of ’im.  “Is that the sack?” he asks, turning to Mr. Cutts.

“That’s the one, sir,” ses Mr. Cutts.  “I’d swear to it anywhere.”

“You’d swear a man’s life away,” ses Bob. “’Ow can you swear to it when it was dark?”

Mr. Cutts didn’t answer ’im.  He went down on ’is knees and cut the string that tied up the mouth o’ the sack, and then ’e started back as if ’e’d been shot, and ’is eyes a’most started out of ’is ’ead.

“Wot’s the matter?” ses the squire.

Mr. Cutts couldn’t speak; he could only stutter and point at the sack with ’is finger, and Henery Walker, as was getting curious, lifted up the other end of it and out rolled a score of as fine cabbages as you could wish to see.

I never see people so astonished afore in all my born days, and as for Bob Pretty, ’e stood staring at them cabbages as if ’e couldn’t believe ’is eyesight.

“And that’s wot I’ve been kept ’ere all night for,” he ses, at last, shaking his ‘ead.  “That’s wot comes o’ trying to do a kindness to keepers, and ’elping of ’em in their difficult work.  P’r’aps that ain’t the sack arter all, Mr. Cutts.  I could ha’ sworn they was pheasants in the one I found, but I may be mistook, never ’aving ’ad one in my ’ands afore.  Or p’r’aps somebody was trying to ’ave a game with you, Mr. Cutts, and deceived me instead.”

The keepers on’y stared at ’im.

“You ought to be more careful,” ses Bob.  “Very likely while you was taking all that trouble over me, and Keeper Lewis was catching ’is death o’ cold, the poachers was up at the plantation taking all they wanted.  And, besides, it ain’t right for Squire Rockett to ’ave to pay Henery Walker five shillings for finding a lot of old cabbages.  I shouldn’t like it myself.”

[Illustration:  “You ought to be more careful,” ses Bob.]

He looked out of the corner of ’is eye at the squire, as was pretending not to notice Henery Walker touching ’is cap to him, and then ’e turns to ’is wife and he ses: 

“Come along, old gal,” ’e ses.  “I want my breakfast bad, and arter that I shall ’ave to lose a honest day’s work in bed.”