It was not till the evening of the second day that the footsore traveller read on a sign-post the welcome words, "Four miles to Grangerham." He had eaten little and rested little on the way, and during the last twelve hours a broiling sun had beaten down pitilessly upon him.
If the journey of the two last days had been exhausting, the fruitless search of the day that followed was fully as wearisome.

Grangerham was a pretty big manufacturing town, and Jeffreys' heart sank within him as soon as he entered it.

For who among these busy crowds would be likely to know anything of an invalid old lady and her cripple grandson?
In vain he enquired in street after street for Mrs Forrester's address.
Some had not heard the name.

Some knew a public-house kept by one Tony Forrester.

Some recollected an old lady who used to keep a costermonger's stall and had a baby with fits.