Next moment, the car, which swung towards the fence as it took the curve, dashed past, and Foster set his lips as he saw Graham, who seemed to be gazing up the road.  Then the car vanished among the trees, and Pete looked at him curiously.

“Is yon the man frae Newcastle ?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Foster grimly; “I rather think we were just in time.  It’s very possible that he’d have run over me if I’d been in the road.  An accident of that kind would have suited him well.  But I thought I was a fool for jumping.”

Pete nodded.  “I ken!  When ye feel ye must do a thing, it’s better just to do it and think afterwards.”  Then he raised his hand.  “She’s stopping!”

The throb of the engine suddenly slackened, as if the driver had seen the inn, and Foster got over the fence.

“It’s lucky we didn’t stop for a meal; but, although it may be risky, I’m going back.”

They kept along the side of the road, where the ground was soft, but Foster was ready to jump the fence if the car returned; the noise would give him warning enough.  After a few minutes they stopped and waited in the gloom of a hedge, where they could see the inn.  The car stood in the road and it was empty.  Graham had obviously gone in to make inquiries, and Foster wondered whether anybody had seen him and his companion pass.  He would know when Graham came out, and moved a few yards farther until he reached a gate, which he opened, ready to slip through.  There was no need to warn Pete now the latter understood matters.  One could trust a poacher to hide himself quickly.

Foster felt some strain.  It was disturbing to find Graham already on his track and he wondered whether the fellow had been to Carlisle.  It would be awkward if he went to Hexham.  After a few minutes two men came out of the inn and Foster waited anxiously while one cranked the car, but they drove on when the engine started.  Then, as he turned back, the throbbing stopped again and he beckoned Pete.

“They don’t know you and it’s getting dark.  Go on and see which way they take.”

He kept close to the hedge when Pete vanished.  The car had stopped where the military road cut across another that followed the river into the moors, and Graham apparently did not know which to take.  It looked as if the fellow had ascertained that he was not at Hexham.  After a time he heard the car start.  It was not coming back, but he could not tell which way it went, and waited in the gathering dark for Pete’s return.

“They’d gone before I cam’ up, but I heard her rattling on the hill to my left han’,” he said.

“That means they’ve gone west towards Carlisle.”

“There’s anither road turns aff and rins north awa’ by Bellingham.”