They had all got to be so friendly as you please and then in the ’Barley Sheaf’ one day, Joseph Ford heard Ned Chown laughing with a customer or two, and, afore they knew it, he picked up a word.  He didn’t let ’em guess he’d heard, however, but ordered his beer and spoke of something else, which they was very willing to do; for Joseph happened to be a mighty smart officer, and secret subjects sometimes got mentioned that weren’t meant for his ear.

It happened that poaching was in the air a good bit just then, for the big Oakshott covers ran half a mile from Little Silver and there had been a lot more trouble than usual that winter and the old head-keeper dismissed and a younger and sterner man engaged from up North.  But the robbery went on and there’s no doubt a lot of pheasants slipped away to an unknown market.  Joseph Ford was so keen as the game-keepers to lay the rogues by the heels, for the police had heard a few hard words from the Lord of the Manor on the subject; but the general opinion ran that some clever rascals from far ways off in the South Hams were responsible; while the new keeper from Yorkshire, who had a large experience of poachers’ tricks, said most steadfast that in his judgment it was local men with the advantages of being on the spot.  They raked the poulterers in three market towns round about, but all gave a very good and straight account of their birds; and the mystery interested us a lot, for, of course, Little Silver had its doubtful customers like every other place.

And what Joseph Ford had heard, with a smothered laugh or two, was the name of his fast friend, Teddy Pegram, along with the disappearance of the Oakshott game.  He gave no sign, but it hit him with a good bit of force, because he’d marked one or two things himself that made him restless, and he knew Teddy didn’t pretend any great sorrow to think the pheasants were being stole.  The man loved sport, and farmers round about let him shoot their rabbits and partridges also; but he knew very well pheasants were different, though he always argued against all game laws.  So Joseph counted to give Teddy a word in season on the quiet, and he done so.

“I heard your name whispered in the public-house a few nights agone,” he said, “and I didn’t like it too well, Pegram, because they named it along with this here poaching.  They little thought I’d heard, of course, and I didn’t undeceive ’em, but—­there ’tis—­and I’d avoid the appearance of evil if I was you and bide in on moony nights, which we know very well you do not.”

The other showed much surprise to hear such a thing.  He was playing along with Joey and the little dog at the time, and teaching the puppy to learn tricks.  The creature was full of brains, as mongrels are apt to be, and Joey loved it dearly, and loved the giver only less.  He’d called it ‘Choc,’ because the puppy loved chocolates so well as Joey himself, and the dog had grown to be his dearest treasure.