began to look up. Pheasants was 'is favourites, and 'e spent no end o'
money rearing of 'em, but anything that could be shot at suited 'im, too.

He started by sneering at the little game that Squire Brown 'ad left, but
all 'e could do didn't seem to make much difference; things disappeared
in a most eggstrordinary way, and the keepers went pretty near crazy,
while the things the squire said about Claybury and Claybury men was
disgraceful.

Everybody knew as it was Bob Pretty and one or two of 'is mates from
other places, but they couldn't prove it. They couldn't catch 'im nohow,
and at last the squire 'ad two keepers set off to watch 'im by night and
by day.

Bob Pretty wouldn't believe it; he said 'e couldn't. And even when it
was pointed out to 'im that Keeper Lewis was follering of 'im he said
that it just 'appened he was going the same way, that was all. And
sometimes 'e'd get up in the middle of the night and go for a fifteen-
mile walk 'cos 'e'd got the toothache, and Mr. Lewis, who 'adn't got it,
had to tag along arter 'im till he was fit to drop. O' course, it was
one keeper the less to look arter the game, and by-and-by the squire see
that and took 'im off.

All the same they kept a pretty close watch on Bob, and at last one
arternoon they sprang out on 'im as he was walking past Gray's farm, and
asked him wot it was he 'ad in his pockets.

"That's my bisness, Mr. Lewis," ses Bob Pretty.

Mr. Smith, the other keeper, passed 'is hands over Bob's coat and felt