With his hands clasped under the tails of his coat he walked twice about the building, stopping to peer in at all the windows, then he paused and took stock of his surroundings.

Over the way was Pegloe's City Tavern; farther up the street was the court-house, a square wooden box with a crib that housed a cracked bell, rising from a gable end.

The judge's pulse quickened.

What a location, and what a fortunate chance that Mr.
Norton was the owner of this most desirable tenement.
He must see him at once.

As he turned away to recross the street and learn from Mr.Pegloe by what road Thicket Point might be reached, Norton himself galloped into the village.