see what."

"Then that's because you disturbed 'em, sir. They was ramshacking your
uncle's desk thing when you come. Tend upon it that was it. Oh, I do
wish I'd been there just at the bottom of the ladder ready to nab 'em as
they come down. Say, Master Tom--think your uncle kep' his money in
that there old chest-o'-drawers thing?"

"I think he used to keep a little bag of change there," replied Tom
thoughtfully; and it seemed more probable that the thieves were after
that than in search of papers, which could have been of no earthly use
to them, though the drawer was nearly empty all the same.

"You did get hold o' one of 'em, sir?" said David, after a pause.

"Oh, yes, more than once."

"And he felt like that there Pete Warboys, didn't he?"

"Yes--no--I don't know," said Tom confusedly; and David scratched his
head.

"That's like asking a man a riddle, sir," he said. "Can't make much o'
that."

"Well, what can I say, David?" cried Tom impatiently. "It was pitch
dark, and I was thinking of nothing else but catching him. I could see
nothing but the dim-looking windows."

"But you felt him, sir."

"Oh yes, I had hold of him."

"Well, did he feel like Pete?"

"What nonsense! One lad would feel like another."

"Oh no, sir, he wouldn't. Pete's bones'd feel all loose and shimbly.
Bound to say you heared his jyntes keep on cracking."

"No, I don't remember that.--Yes, I do," continued Tom excitedly. "I
did hear him go crack twice when we were wrestling."

"There you are, you see," cried the gardener triumphantly, "that's
c'roborative evidence, and c'roborative evidence is what they make
detective police on. It was Pete Warboys, sure enough."

"I thought it must be, David."

"Not a doubt 'bout it, sir. We've got him this time safe enough, and
he'll be sent away for the job, and a blessing to Furzebrough, I say.
But I'll try you again, sir. Just lead you up like. Now, then, to make
more sure--you smelt him too, didn't you?"

"Smelt him?" cried Tom.

"Ay, sir, that's what I said. You could smell him yards away."

"Oh no, I didn't smell him," said Tom, laughing.

"Do you mean to tell me, Master Tom, that, you didn't smell Pete the
other night when you was letting go at him with that stick atop o' our
wall?"

"I remember smelling onions very strong."

"There!" cried David triumphantly. "Of course you did. I like an onion
roasted, or in stuffing, or the little 'uns pickled, but that ch