The carrier’s cart had been gone two hours, and there was a train to Avonworth half an hour hence. “Perhaps my friend started to walk, and the carrier will pick him up. The road to Avonworth is his most likely way. He may have started with the carrier and gone the whole journey. It is what he might do, innocent or guilty,” thought Bales. In a short time Bales had donned his countryman’s attire--the smock and all-rounder, without which he never travelled; and by half-past six he was at Avonworth. The carrier’s cart had not arrived. He loitered about, and presently had the satisfaction to see it come creeping along the dusty highway, and finally enter the “Lion” yard, and, what is more, out stepped “Thomas.” The man did not enter the inn, but walked away out of the town and along the road towards Severntown. By-and-by he left the highway and turned into the turnpike road. He wore an overcoat and an ordinary hat, but nobody could have mistaken the light brown livery trousers. Bales followed him at a distance for a couple of miles, and then “Thomas” entered a roadside inn. Shortly, the detective was sitting in the same room, where he had ordered brandy-and-water hot. And lo and behold, Mr. Bales recognised the face of our poor friend, THOMAS DIBBLE. The detective directed the girl to bring him a pint of hot ale and gin, known by the euphonious title of dog’s-nose, of which smoking liquor he politely offered a glass to “Thomas.” Poor Dibble treated this little act of courtesy coldly, but tasted the liquor notwithstanding, and then Bales began to talk. He was a farmer, going to be married; he was on his way to Brazencrook to see his Sarah, who lived in service there. How far was it to Brazencrook? Dibble did not know. It was a nice place, Bales had heard? Yes, _he believed_ it was. And then Bales ordered some more gin and ale, for the night was closing in wet and cold. At length the ice was thoroughly melted, and the two men talked and smoked and drank in good-fellowship. “Thomas” was highly amused at the detective’s simplicity. As the evening wore on Dibble gradually became thick and confused in his speech, and then Bales saying it was time for him to go, rang the bell and asked the girl to see if the landlord could change him a fifty-pound note. This was the sum he had saved for the purpose of marrying Sarah at Brazencrook! “You shan’t schange a fifty-pun’ note,” said Dibble; “noshing of the short.” “No, master could not change a fifty-pound note,” the girl said; “pretty well, he thought, if he could change a five-pound note.” “All right,” said “Thomas,” thrusting his right hand into a breast-pocket of his coat, and producing a roll of notes, “I’ve got a five pun’ note.” Poor Dibble! When the detective showed him a pair of handcuffs, and charged him with robbery, he burst into tears.