A gig was heard to roll into the yard. Mr. Sykes entered--a tall stout man of about fifty, comely of feature, but feeble of physiognomy. He looked anxious.
"Have they been? Are they gone? Have you got him? Is it over?" he asked.
"Not yet," returned Moore with phlegm. "We are waiting for them."

Mr. Sykes entered - a tall stout man of about fifty, who looked anxious.
"Have they been? Have you got him? Is it over?" he asked.
"Not yet," returned Moore. "We are waiting for them."
