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I very soon discovered that I was being shadowed, by a gentleman wearing a wooden leg. Upon inquiry, I learned that he was the Honorable Marshal of the town. To note his manner one would have thought that he had corralled a Jesse James. I didn't worry much, however, because I knew I could out-run any wooden-legged man in Michigan.
"Nor does it," said Robin; "and, as a token of the great honour which I bear to the wooden walls of Old England, you are welcome to keep it." "Keep your glass, sir!" repeated the wooden-legged hero; "no; you don't look like one who could afford to make such a present. But I'll buy it, I'll buy it, if you'll let me that I will."
The tragedy was read to the company by a grotesque, wooden-legged and red-nosed prompter, and it was greeted with laughter. To make amends, Macready himself undertook to read it aloud, but he declared himself unable, in the disturbed state of his mind, to appear before the public: his part that of Lord Tresham must be taken by Phelps.
"I mean that if you want to fish off our shore and wants a man to help with your boat you've got to ask some of us to help, and not get bringing none o' your wooden-legged cripples spying and poking about our ground." "Spy? What is there to spy?" said Aleck, giving the man a peculiar look. "Never you mind about that. You be off home, and don't you come spying about here with none of your glasses."
I answered with some foul insult by way of thanks, and so we parted, and I set off towards the bungalow village. I found a policeman, standing star-gazing, a little way beyond the end of the parade, and verified the wooden-legged man's directions. "It's a lonely road, you know," he called after me. . . . I had an odd intuition that now at last I was on the right track.
How, for example, could you describe with such confidence the wooden-legged man?" "Pshaw, my dear boy! it was simplicity itself. I don't wish to be theatrical. It is all patent and above-board. Two officers who are in command of a convict-guard learn an important secret as to buried treasure. A map is drawn for them by an Englishman named Jonathan Small.
I walked back to the parade trying to reason my next step out, and muttering to myself, because there was something in that luminous wonderfulness that touched one's brain, and made one feel a little light-headed. One couple had gone to London; the other had gone to the Bungalow village at Bone Cliff. Where, I wondered, was Bone Cliff? I came upon my wooden-legged man at the top of his steps.
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