getting over a fence and broke 'is leg. Then all the work fell on Keeper
Smith, and to 'ear 'im talk you'd think that rheumatic fever and broken
legs was better than anything else in the world. He asked the squire for
'elp, but the squire wouldn't give it to 'im, and he kept telling 'im wot
a feather in 'is cap it would be if 'e did wot the other two couldn't do,
and caught Bob Pretty. It was all very well, but, as Smith said, wot 'e
wanted was feathers in 'is piller, instead of 'aving to snatch a bit o'
sleep in 'is chair or sitting down with his 'ead agin a tree. When I
tell you that 'e fell asleep in this public-'ouse one night while the
landlord was drawing a pint o' beer he 'ad ordered, you'll know wot 'e
suffered.

O' course, all this suited Bob Pretty as well as could be, and 'e was
that good-tempered 'e'd got a nice word for everybody, and when Bill
Chambers told 'im 'e was foolhardy 'e only laughed and said 'e knew wot
'e was about.

But the very next night 'e had reason to remember Bill Chambers's words.
He was walking along Farmer Hall's field--the one next to the squire's
plantation--and, so far from being nervous, 'e was actually a-whistling.
He'd got a sack over 'is shoulder, loaded as full as it could be, and 'e
'ad just stopped to light 'is pipe when three men burst out o' the
plantation and ran toward 'im as 'ard as they could run.

[Illustration: "Three men burst out o' the plantation."]

Bob Pretty just gave one look and then 'e dropped 'is pipe and set off
like a hare. It was no good dropping the sack, because Smith, the
keeper, 'ad recognised 'im and called 'im by name, so 'e just put 'is
teeth together and did the best he could, and there's no doubt that if it