"Look at this!" thrusting the coins under his very nose.

"Bad money, that's what 'tis,--passed off on me last night! But I know who done it, and where he is,--leastways where he was last night, and he can't have got so very far.

He's Tom Smith, the hawker, and he'd got his van in a field nigh 'pon the top of Woodend Lane last night--put it there without a with-your-leave or a by-your-leave! Trespassing, that's what he was, and that's another thing you can have him up for.
He was there to kidnap a child and a dog what he said was his; but I'll bet they wasn't--and that's another thing against him.
Of course he'd move on as soon as he'd got the kid, but he can't have got so very far with that old horse of his--he looked as if he'd drop dead if he was made to go another mile." The policeman stayed to see the train depart with the crowd safely packed inside it, then turned away with Bob.

He was as anxious as Bob himself to follow up the case.

Policemen did not get much chance in little country places, and promotion came slowly.