The Argosy — page 283: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Key of the Church. 269 reason, sir, I should say the chances are he is somewhere in the neighbourhood.” Of course it looked like it. Strolling away to pick up anything else that people might be saying, we gave Fred our best wishes for his escape—in spite of the shot—and for effectually dodging old Jones and the rest of the Philistines. By the afternoon, great staring hand-bills were posted about, written in enormous text-hand, offering a reward of £ 20 for the apprehension of Frederick Westerbrook. When old Westerbrook was incensed, he went in for the whole thing, and no mistake. What with the bustle the place was in, and the excitement of the chase—for all the hedges and ditches, the barns and the suspected houses, were being looked up by old Jones and a zealous crowd, anxious for the reward—it was not until after dinner that I got away to practise. Going along, I met Duffham, and asked after Gisby. ‘‘Iam on my way to Shepherd’s now,” he answered. “I suppose he is still alive, as they have not sent me word to the contrary.” “Ts he sure to die, Mr. Duffham ?” “I fear so, Johnny. I don’t see much chance of saving him.” ‘‘ What a dreadful thing for Fred Westerbrook! They may bring it in wilful murder.” ‘That they will be sure to do. Good-evening, lad.” Bumford was probably looking out for the fugitive (and the reward) on his own score, as he was not to be seen ; but I found the key inside the knife-box on the kitchen dresser, his store-place for it, opened the door, and went into the church. On one side the church-door, as you entered, was an enclosed place underneath the belfry, that did for the vestry and for Clerk Bumford’s den. .He kept his store of candles in it, his gravedigging tools; for he was sexton as well as clerk; his Sunday black gown, and other choice articles. On the other side of the door, not enclosed, was the nook that contained the organ. I sat down at once. But I had come too late ; for in half an hour’s time, the notes of the music and the keys were alike dim. Just then Bumford entered. ‘Oh, you be here, be you,” said he, treating me, as he did the rest of the world, with scanty ceremony. “I thought I heered the organ a-going, so I come on to see.” “ You were not indoors, Bumford, when I called for the key.” ‘“‘T were only in the field at the back, a-getting up some dandelion roots,” returned old Bumford, in his usual grumbling tone. ‘ There ain’t no obligation in me to be at home everlasting.” ‘Who said there was P” ‘¢ Ain’t it a’most too dark for you?” ‘Ves; I shall have to borrow one of your candles.” Bumford grunted at this. The candles were not strictly his; they econmniclooolkks