Wonder if they be coming to Hartledon again?
Calne haven't seemed the same since they left it." "Which is this one ?" "He can't be anybody but himself," retorted Mr.Jones, irascibly, deeming the question superfluous.

"There be but the two left, I say--the earl and him; everybody knows him for the Honourable Percival Elster.

The other son, George, died; leastways, was murdered." "Murdered!" echoed the station-master aghast.
"I don't see that it could be called much else but murder," was Mr.
Jones's answer.

"He went out with my lord's gamekeepers one night and got shot in a poaching fray.

'Twas never known for certain who fired the shot, but I think I could put my finger on the man if I tried.