You never saw such a hunt then in all your life.  Nearly every man, woman, and child in Claybury left their work or school and went to try and earn that five pounds.  By the arternoon George Barstow made it ten pounds provided the cat was brought ’ome safe and sound, and people as was too old to walk stood at their cottage doors to snap it up as it came by.

Joe Clark was hunting for it ’igh and low, and so was ’is wife and the boys.  In fact, I b’lieve that everybody in Claybury excepting the parson and Bob Pretty was trying to get that ten pounds.

O’ course, we could understand the parson—­’is pride wouldn’t let ’im; but a low, poaching, thieving rascal like Bob Pretty turning up ’is nose at ten pounds was more than we could make out.  Even on the second day, when George Barstow made it ten pounds down and a shilling a week for a year besides, he didn’t offer to stir; all he did was to try and make fun o’ them as was looking for it.

“Have you looked everywhere you can think of for it, Bill?” he ses to Bill Chambers.  “Yes, I ’ave,” ses Bill.

“Well, then, you want to look everywhere else,” ses Bob Pretty.  “I know where I should look if I wanted to find it.”

“Why don’t you find it, then?” ses Bill.

“’Cos I don’t want to make mischief,” ses Bob Pretty.  “I don’t want to be unneighbourly to Joe Clark by interfering at all.”

“Not for all that money?” ses Bill.

“Not for fifty pounds,” ses Bob Pretty; “you ought to know me better than that, Bill Chambers.”

“It’s my belief that you know more about where that cat is than you ought to,” ses Joe Gubbins.

“You go on looking for it, Joe,” ses Bob Pretty, grinning; “it’s good exercise for you, and you’ve only lost two days’ work.”

“I’ll give you arf a crown if you let me search your ’ouse, Bob,” ses Bill Chambers, looking at ’im very ’ard.

“I couldn’t do it at the price, Bill,” ses Bob Pretty, shaking his ’ead.  “I’m a pore man, but I’m very partikler who I ’ave come into my ’ouse.”

O’ course, everybody left off looking at once when they heard about Bob—­ not that they believed that he’d be such a fool as to keep the cat in his ’ouse; and that evening, as soon as it was dark, Joe Clark went round to see ’im.

“Don’t tell me as that cat’s found, Joe,” ses Bob Pretty, as Joe opened the door.

“Not as I’ve ’eard of,” said Joe, stepping inside.  “I wanted to speak to you about it; the sooner it’s found the better I shall be pleased.”

“It does you credit, Joe Clark,” ses Bob Pretty.

“It’s my belief that it’s dead,” ses Joe, looking at ’im very ’ard; “but I want to make sure afore taking over the property.”

Bob Pretty looked at ’im and then he gave a little cough.  “Oh, you want it to be found dead,” he ses.  “Now, I wonder whether that cat’s worth most dead or alive?”

Joe Clark coughed then.  “Dead, I should think,” he ses at last.  “George Barstow’s just ’ad bills printed offering fifteen pounds for it,” ses Bob Pretty.