CHAPTER XII.

     Mr. Bangs Accredits Himself—­Silences Squire Walker—­Constable
     Rigby in the Kitchen—­The Inquests—­Arrests, and Mr. Newberry—­The
     Beaver River Contingent—­Mr. Bangs and the Squire Consult—­The Army
     Prepares—­Wilkinson’s Heroics—­Mr. Bigglethorpe on Fishing.

When Timotheus returned, he was not alone; a slightly built man of medium stature, and rather flashily attired, rode beside him.  The Squire strode to the gate, to learn that the younger Pilgrim had accomplished his various missions successfully, and to be presented by him, in his usual clumsy way, to Mr. Bengs, a friend of Mr. Nash as was.  “Yore men is right, Squire; my neme is Bengs, Hickey Bengs, end pore Nesh sent for me to kem end help ferret out a geng of dem excise slopers, end here I find my pore friend merdered.  I tell you, Squire, it’s too dem bed, O, too dem bed!”

The Squire felt he must be cautious these times, but that did not hinder him being hospitable.  “Come in, Mr. Bengs, and breakfast with us.  My man will put your horse up.  I have Nash’s papers in my possession from his own hand, and, if I find they confirm your story, we will all be glad to take you into our confidence.  You, of all men, understand the necessity for caution, and will, I hope, not take my precaution amiss.”

“O Lud, no, Squire; yo’re pretty shore to find letters frem me ameng pore Nesh’s papers, or some memorenda about me.  H.B., you know, Hickey Bengs.”

Timotheus led the new detective’s horse away, and the gentleman himself entered the house and office with the Squire.  “Coristine,” said the latter, familiarly addressing the lawyer, “would you mind looking up Errol quietly and sending him here?”

Of course he didn’t mind, and soon returned with the minister.  Both noticed that the Squire had two loaded pistols on the table before him, the stranger being on the other side.  “You can remain, Coristine.  I must introduce you, and the Reverend Mr. Errol, my fellow trustee in the matter of these papers, to Mr. Bengs.  Mr. Coristine is in the law, Mr. Bengs.”

The dapper gentleman with the red tie and large scarf pin bowed amiably to the two witnesses of the interview, and Mr. Carruthers, with the minister by his side, proceeded to examine the papers.  “Here it is,” he said, after a few minutes of painful silence, “but what in aa the warld’s the meanin’ o’t?  B.R.—­B.T.—­R.C.P.  The date is Saturday night.”

“I think I know,” interrupted the lawyer.  “How will this do:  Beaver River, Ben Toner, Roman Catholic Priest?”

“The very thing!  Well, here’s Sabbath.  Prom. cum S.W.L.C. sup. eq.”

Coristine had written the words down to study them.  At last he said:  “It’s a mixture of French, Latin, and English abbreviations; Promenade or walk with Schoolmaster Wilkinson, Lawyer Coristine on the horse.”