Joe Strangeways, whenever he was not employing his Sabbath in getting most royally drunk at the Bull, was sure to be found at the meetings on Gorsthwaite moor; and on the Sunday following Lomax's fight with the preacher at the edge of Whins Quarry, it fell to Joe's lot to guard the approach to the moor on the side overlooking Gorsthwaite Hall. Involuntarily his eyes took stock of his enemy's house; the day was clear and bright, and he could see the smoke curling up from the Hall chimneys, as if the mile that lay between were but a few score yards. The quarryman's heart was still sore within him; he would not let himself forget how Griff Lomax had filched his wife from him; he remembered that he had sworn vengeance on him, and that his only steps in this direction, up to the present, had given Lomax exactly the thing he most wanted. "If only I warn't so dull-witted like," muttered Joe, "I might think o' summat. But the beer doan't seem to help a chap, an' my fine gen'leman ower yonder, what plays at running a farm an' reckons to be fine an' condescending to us plain-natured devils, smiles i' my face fro' nooin to neet. I've thowt, whiles, o' waiting on th' moor for him after dark, an' spoiling his pretty mug wi' th' heft of a good stout crowbar; but a mon hes to keep sober for that sort o' game--an' he's ower big, ony way ye tak him." He paused in the midst of his reflections to watch a black dot on the landscape. The dot grew bigger, and moved in a bee-line between Gorsthwaite Hall and himself. Soon he could see that it was a man's figure, and presently he recognized Lomax. A sudden inspiration ran athwart Joe Strangeways' muddled brain. He rammed his pipe hard into the left corner of his mouth, thrust both hands deep into his pockets, and gave a prolonged growl of satisfaction. Then he slouched across the heather to where his companions were gaming. "Well, Joe?" said a little man, with a red nose and ferret eyes, who had the air of being in some sort a leader among them. "What art 'a coming away for now? Tha's not watched thy time." "I've come, Dave Jefferson, to tell ye there's one on th' way ye'll noan be ower glad to see," said the quarrymaster, slowly. The pence and the halfpence disappeared like magic. An air that refuted suspicion crept over the faces of all present. "Then why didn't tha pass t' word, yer lumbering fool?" said the little man, whose temper was altogether disproportionate to his size. "Mebbe tha'd like to go round by Thornborough town t' next time, an' come to tell us an hour or two after t' magistrates have given us the straight tip for gaol?" Joe squirted his tobacco-quid, with careless accuracy, at a bumble-bee that was sipping the heather in front of him. "If tha thowt twice afore tha spoke, Dave, tha'd be a likelier lad; an' happen tha'd be likelier still if tha never spoke at all. It's noan a stranger 'at's coming; it's a chap ye think a powerful deal on, some on ye."