The Amazons of Thrums 71

“This is the local policeman,” a Tilliedrum
officer said; “we have been searching for him
everywhere, and only found him now.”

“Where have you been?” asked the sheriff,
wrathfully.

““Whaur maist honest men is at this hour,”
replied Wearyworld; “in my bed.”

“Flow dared you ignore your duty at such a
time?”

“It’s a long story,” the policeman answered,
pleasantly, in anticipation of a talk at last.

« Answer me in a word.”

“In a word!” cried the policeman, quite crest-
fallen. “It canna be done. You'll need to
cross-examine me, too. It’s my lawful richt.”

“T'll take you to the Tilliedrum gaol for your
share in this night’s work if you do not speak to
the purpose. Why did you not hasten to our
assistance?”

“As sure as death I never kent you was here.
I was up the Roods on my rounds when I heard
an awfu’ din down in the square, and thinks I,
there’s rough characters abont, and the place for
honest folk is their bed. So to my bed I
gaed, and I was in’t when your men gripped
me.

“We must see into this before we leave. In
the meantime you will act as a guide to my
searchers. Stop! Do you know anything of
this Egyptian?”

“What Egyptian? Is’t a lassie wi’ rowans
in her hair?”

“The same. Have you seen her?”

“That I have. There’s nothing agin her, is

2?