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258
Joan, The Curate.

But a peep within its doors showed that the landlord and one old man had it, to all appearances, to themselves.

Tregenna sighed, and frowned.

"Well, I must arrest you, Tom, and carry you off at least," said he.

"I be smuggling naught, master!" objected Tom, quite mildly.

"You were signalman to the others," answered Tregenna. "You're one of the gang."

Tom took this very quietly.

"All roight, take me if you will," said he. "'Twas you, sir, that gave me the hurt makes me too lame to get away!" said he.

Tregenna frowned, and looked uneasily round at his own men, who, deeming him quite able to cope with this, the only one of the ruffians whom they had in their power, had dispersed in various directions, engaged in the rather hopeless task of ferreting out their lost enemies.

"I'd sooner have caught any one of the others, Tom," said Tregenna, "than laid hands on thee."

"And I," replied Tom, with a glance round in his tone, and a lowering of the voice, "I'd sooner I was caught by you, sir, than as any of