"It's all right," said the Doctor. "Nobody can hear you here. Now what is it?"
"Well, Doctor," said Jip (he was badly out of breath from running), "I know all about the Hermit—I have known for years. But I couldn't tell you."
"Why?" asked the Doctor.
"Because I'd promised not to tell any one. It was Bob, his dog, that told me. And I swore to him that I would keep the secret."
"Well, and are you going to tell me now?"
"Yes," said Jip, "we've got to save him. I followed Bob's scent just now when I left you out there on the marshes. And I found him. And I said to him, 'Is it all right,' I said, 'for me to tell the Doctor now? Maybe he can do something.' And Bob says to me, 'Yes,' says he, 'it's all right because—'"
"Oh, for Heaven's sake, go on, go on!" cried the Doctor. "Tell us what the mystery is—not what you said to Bob and what Bob said to you. What has happened? Where is the Hermit?"
"He's in Puddleby Jail," said Jip. "He's in prison."
"In prison!"
"Yes."
"What for?—What's he done?"
Jip went over to the door and smelt at the bottom of it to see if any one were listening outside.
