We went off without delay, caught a passing train, and were soon at Worcester and at the police-station. The Squire asked for Sergeant Cripp: who came to him, and prepared to listen to his tale. He began it in his impulsive way; saying outright that the earring had been stolen by a gipsy-tramp. I tried to say that it might have been only lost, but the pater scoffed at that, and told me to hold my tongue. "And now, Cripp, what's to be done?" he demanded, not having given the sergeant an opportunity to put in a word edgeways. "We must get the earring back; it is of value, and much prized, apart from that, by Mrs. Todhetley. The woman must be found, you know." "Yes, she must be found," agreed the sergeant. "Can you give me a description of her?" "Johnny--this young gentleman can," said the Squire, rubbing his brow with his yellow silk handkerchief, for he had put himself into a heat, in spite of the frosty atmosphere that surrounded us. "He was with Mrs. Todhetley when she talked to the woman." "A thin woman of middle height, stooped a good deal, face pale and quiet, wrinkles on it, brown eyes," wrote the sergeant, taking down what I said. "Black poke bonnet, clean cap border, old red woollen shawl with the fringe torn off in places. Can't remember gown: except that it was dark and shabby." "And, of course, sir, you've no clue to her name?" cried the sergeant, looking at me. "Yes: she said it was Nutten--as I understood it; but Mrs. Todhetley thought she said Nutt." And I went on to relate the tale the woman told. Sergeant Cripp's lips extended themselves in a silent smile. "It was well got up, that tale," said he, when I finished. "Just the thing to win over a warm-hearted lady." "But she could not have halted at the gate, expecting to steal the earring?" "Of course not. She was prowling about to see what she could steal, perhaps watching her opportunity to get into the house. The earring fell in her way, a more valuable prize than she expected, and she made off with it." "You'll be able to hunt her up if she's in Worcester, Cripp," put in the pater. "Don't lose time." "_If_ she's in Worcester," returned Mr. Cripp, with emphasis. "She's about as likely to be in Worcester, Squire Todhetley, as I am to be at this present minute in Brummagem," he familiarly added. "After saying she was coming to Worcester, she'd strike off in the most opposite direction to it." "Where on earth are we to look for her, then?" asked the pater, in commotion. "Leave it to us, Squire. We'll try and track her. And--I hope--get back the earring." "And about the advertisement for the newspapers, Cripp? We ought to put one in." Sergeant Cripp twirled the pen in his fingers while he reflected. "I think, sir, we will let the advertisement alone for a day or two," he presently said. "Sometimes these advertisements do more harm than good: they put thieves on their guard." "Do they? Well, I suppose they do."