The Torch and Other Tales | Page 4

a great
deal of annoyance. His bead-black eyes flashed and his jaw stood out,
as it always did when he was vexed.
"Too bad!" he said, "and if I knew who the man was, I'd have him up
for libel I reckon. I may or may not agree about the damn birds, but I
wouldn't have made a policeman my fast friend in this place if I weren't
a straight man, and I'm a good bit surprised, Joseph, that you thought it
worth your while to name such a thing to me. And I'll go out of a
moony night when and where I please so long as it's a free country. So
now then!"
He sulked a bit and didn't come to see the Fords for a week, though
Joey was over often enough to see him, and Joseph felt rather interested
to mark how the little man had taken it. But then 'Santa Claus' made
friends again and came into Sunday supper and brought a pheasant
along with him!
He made a lot of fun about it and pretended as he'd shot it in the coverts
over night; and presently he told Joseph that, if he wanted to run him in,
he'd best to go to Mercer's at Newton Abbot first and find out if he'd
bought it all decent and in order, or if he had not. So the matter dropped,
and all was firm friends again till the blow fell.
Poaching went on, and Joseph noted that Teddy was apt to be from
home a bit and would often go away for a day or two. And the new

head-keeper, who was sleepless on the job, traced where a car had
come across one of the drives in Oakshott's by night, for the wheels had
scored the grass; and where the thing had stood was a dead bird the
blackguards had overlooked.
The pheasant had been shot roosting and an air-gun was the weapon,
for they found the slug in it.
And the next thing was that just afore the end of the season, Joseph
Ford set out to lend a hand with the job on his own, unknown to
anybody but the head-keeper. He worked out of his business hours and
off the regular policeman's beats, and the keeper, who now felt pretty
sure one of his own under-men was in it, and he'd got treachery to deal
with, put Joseph up to a secret plan. Oakshott's is a huge place and the
six keepers kept there couldn't be everywhere; but an unknown seventh
man might steal a march on the rogues and lie hid when 'twas given out
the others were somewhere else. And that was done by Joseph, with a
very startling result.
The season had near reached an end, when on a quiet moonlight night
in January, Joseph kept his third secret watch at the edge of the North
Wood. He'd got there at dusk, being off duty at the time, and there he
bided; and then, just after moonrise, he saw a dog slip past him within
ten yards, and he knew the dog very well, and his heart sank.
Behind the lurcher came her master, and Teddy, with something in his
hand that glinted, popped by, silent as a ghost and was gone into the
covers.
But Joseph knew he'd be bound to come out on the high road, same
way he went in, so he bided there and an hour passed and then twenty
minutes more, and meantime the policeman heard the purr of a motor
and saw a small car without lights draw up on the dark side of the lane
twenty yards off. There was only one man in it and Joseph felt glad
there weren't more. He chanced Pegram for a minute then and nipped
out on the driver just as he was lighting a cigarette. He proved to be a
young fellow from so far off as Torquay, and he didn't put up no fight
whatever, feeling no fear on his own account. He was working for

wages and doing what he was told, and he caved in at once and obeyed
the policeman's orders, that worse might not overtake him. So he sat
tight and waited, and then Teddy Pegram and his dog and his air-gun
crept out of the woods with a load of ten birds. They roosted in the
spruce firs, you understand, and 'twas as easy to slay them as
blackbeetles, for Teddy's eyes, helped by the moon, marked 'em above
his head quick enough.
Then Joseph Ford walked out from behind the car and the little man
saw his games were ended, for Ford was a very powerful chap and
could have eaten him if he'd wanted to do so.
But Teddy