involved himself generously in the case. The two men returned at Mr.

Polly's initiative across the churchyard to the Potwell Inn, and came

upon the burst and damaged rook rifle near the new monument to Sir

Samuel Harpon at the corner by the yew.

That must have been his third go," said Mr. Polly. "It sounded a bit

funny."

The sight inspirited him greatly, and he explained further that he had

fled to the churchyard on account of the cover afforded by tombstones

from the flight of small shot. He expressed anxiety for the fate of

the landlady of the Potwell Inn and her grandchild, and led the way

with enhanced alacrity along the lane to that establishment.

They found the doors of the house standing open, the bar in some

disorder--several bottles of whisky were afterwards found to be

missing--and Blake, the village policeman, rapping patiently at the

open door. He entered with them. The glass in the bar had suffered

severely, and one of the mirrors was starred from a blow from a pewter

pot. The till had been forced and ransacked, and so had the bureau in

the minute room behind the bar. An upper window was opened and the

voice of the landlady became audible making enquiries. They went out

and parleyed with her. She had locked herself upstairs with the little

girl, she said, and refused to descend until she was assured that

neither Uncle Jim nor Mr. Polly's gun were anywhere on the premises.

Mr. Blake and Mr. Warspite proceeded to satisfy themselves with regard

318

The History of Mr Polly