'"From there,"' continued he, '"he made a bit of a bend, as if inclining for the plantations at Winstead, but, changing his mind, he faced the rising ground, and crossing over nearly the highest part of Shillington Hill, made direct for the little village of Berrington Roothings below."' 'Stop!' exclaimed Sponge, 'I haven't got half that; I've only got to "the plantations at Winstead."' Sponge made play with his pen, and presently held it up in token of being done.
'Well,' pondered Jack, 'there was a check there.

Say,' continued he, addressing himself to Sponge, '"Here the hounds came to a check."' 'Here the hounds came to a check,' wrote Sponge.

'Shall we say anything about distance ?' asked he.
'P'raps we may as well,' replied Jack.

'We shall have to stretch it though a bit.' 'Let's see,' continued he; 'from the cover to Berrington Roothings over by Shillington Hill and Fleecyhaugh Water Meadows will be--say, two miles and a half or three miles at the most--call it four, well, four miles--say four miles in twelve minutes, twenty miles an hour,--too quick--four miles in fifteen minutes, sixteen miles an hour; no--I think p'raps it'll be safer to lump the distance at the end, and put in a place or two that nobody knows the name of, for the convenience of those who were not out.' 'But those who _were_ out will blab, won't they ?' asked Sponge.
'Only to each other,' replied Jack.

'They'll all stand up for the truth of it as against strangers.