"Nah, maister; did th' wagons hit home?" demanded a voice from the vehicle.
"Can that be Joe Scott?"
"Ay, ay!" returned another voice; for the gig contained two persons, as was seen by the glimmer of its lamp. The men with the lanterns had now fallen into the rear, or rather, the equestrians of the rescue-party had outridden the pedestrians. "Ay, Mr. Moore, it's Joe Scott. I'm bringing him back to you in a bonny pickle. I fand him on the top of the moor yonder, him and three others. What will you give me for restoring him to you?"

"Nah, maister; did th' wagons hit home?" demanded a voice.
"Is that Joe Scott?"
"Ay, ay!" returned another voice; for the gig contained two people. "Ay, Mr. Moore, it's Joe Scott. I'm bringing him back to you in a bonny pickle. I fand him on the top of the moor yonder, him and three others. What will you give me for restoring him to you?"
