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 used his tongue for all it was worth, though at first he didn’t guess he was up against it.
“Lucky ’twas you,” he said. “If it had been your mate, I’d have met with a difficulty. Very smart, Joseph! You’ve bowled me out all right, so we’ll cry quits and least said soonest mended.”
But the policeman wasn’t in no mood like that.
“Come, Pegram,” he answered. “I’d sooner have took any man on earth but you, and you’ve put me in a cruel fix, and that’s all there is to it. Give me that air-gun and get in the car and say nought if you please.”
T’other had a lot to say, however. They talked for ten minutes, but the poacher couldn’t move the policeman, though he appealed to his friendship and so on. Then Joseph saw a look that he never had seen afore in the little man’s eyes and was startled, but not afeared. For a minute Teddy glared like a devil in the moonlight, and an awful evil expression fairly flooded his face.
“Think twice,” he said. “For God’s sake think twice, Ford, afore you do this. There’s a lot more to me than you know—a lot I’ve thought to overcome—suffering, misery, curses, disgrace. But if you take me to the ‘cooler’ to-night—hear me on my oath: you’ll be sorry as long as you live, for I’m built that way.”
“I am sorry already,” answered Joseph, “I’m as sorry as any living man can be, and ’tis a bitter cruel thing for me that you’ve forced this upon me. I warned you—most serious I done so—and what more could I do? You’ve none to thank for this but yourself and you well know it. But my duty’s my duty, and I don’t break my policeman’s oath for you, or any man living.”
“You ain’t on duty to-night, however,” replied Teddy.