"What was he giving you six shillings for ?" he asked, as Bob and he trudged up the hill from the station.
Bob looked foolish.

"Oh--for--for showing him the way," he stammered.
The policeman looked at him sharply.

"What way ?" he asked.
"To--to Woodend Lane," he answered, shortly, wondering distractedly how he could avoid giving true explanations; but the policeman, to his relief, did not press the matter further, and whatever his thoughts were, he kept them to himself.
Presently he asked, casually, "Where was the child he wanted to get hold of?
In Woodend Lane ?" "Yes--I mean I dunno.

I don't know nothing about it." "I only asked, 'cause we've had word to keep a look-out for a man, probably with a caravan, who has stolen a child and a dog from Wood--" "Why, look, what's that over there ?" interrupted Bob, in sudden excitement.
"That over there" was a shabby brown caravan, hung about with tins and brushes, standing beneath a high hedge in a corner of a distant field.

From the road beneath it, it would not be visible to any passer-by, but looking across country as they were the glitter of the tins flashing in the rays of the morning sun caught the eye, and discovered the van in its hiding-place.
"Here goes!" cried the policeman, excitedly.