74 THE RETURN OF ALFRED
think. You wait till old Bob Thirkettle gets back, then you'll cop it a rum 'un. He's going to give you cosh. Used to go about with a gun for months, he did, and here you be a-comin' back. Well, you 'ave got a nerve."
"And who is Bob Thirkettle?" asked Smith, sensing revelations from the man's dark hints.
"Who's Bob Thirkettle!" Again he broke into a slobber of chuckles. "I fare to think you'll know all about who Bob Thirkettle is when he comes back. He ain't forgot what you done to his mawther."
"Mawther," repeated Smith in a puzzled tone. "What is a mawther?"
"Ho! ho! ho!" cackled the man. "What's a mawther? So you come back, Mist' Alfred, and don't know the meanin' o' good Norfolk. You wait till old Bob gets back. He'll kill you, Mist' Alfred, sure as you're there," he added with satisfied conviction.
"And when will he be back?" asked Smith.
"Ho! ho! ho!" A cunning glint sprang into the man's eyes. "I beant going to tell you, or you'll just hike off, I know you — That's what you did afore," he added, as he swung his pick and spade once more upon his right shoulder. "Fare you well, Mist' Alfred," and then, as if a sudden thought had struck him, he added: "I suppose you don't know who I be?"
"I haven't the foggiest idea."
"Don't know Tom Simmons, don't you? I suppose you've forgotten about the whisky," and he leered up at Smith from under his hat brim.
"I suppose I must, as I have no recollection, either of you or of the whisky."
"Well, I'll be grimed," exclaimed Simmons. "If
