"I'll tell you when I knows wot it is," replied the boy.
"Why, what a talky old party I've become. Time was when I never uttered a word—but do—ah, I was one to do. And much and quick I did, too."
"We knows that very well, thank you. Mister Sexton," said Jerry. "That is, we knows it if we knows your word can be relied upon."
"You may lay to that," said Mipps, "and you may lay that in our future dealings together you can depend on me a-standin' by you as long as you lay the straight course with me."
"I'll take your word for that," responded Jerk. "Now p'raps you will get on?"
"Well," said the sexton, "I must begin with the Marsh—the Romney Marsh. No one knows better than you do that she's a queer sort of a corner, is Romney Marsh. I've seen you a-prowlin' and a-nosin' about on her. You scented excitement, you did, on the Marsh. You smelt out a mystery, and like a lad of adventurous spirit you wanted to find out the meanin' of it all. Very natural. I should have done the same when I was a lad. Well, now the whole business is this: the Marsh don't approve of folks a-nosin' and a-prowlin' after her secrets, see?" And the sexton's face grew suddenly fierce: all those lines of quizzical humour vanished from around that peculiar mouth and left a face of diabolical cruelty, of cunning, and of
