“That’s against the by-laws,” said the foreman.
“Why worry?” said the oldest workman; “live and let live’s what I always say. Ain’t you never been young yourself, Mr. Bates?”
“I ought to report him,” said the foreman.
“Why spoil sport’s what I always say.”
“Passengers are forbidden to cross the line on any pretence,” murmured the foreman, doubtfully.
“He ain’t no passenger,” said one of the workmen.
“Nor ‘e ain’t crossed the line, not where we could see ‘im do it,” said another.
“Nor yet ‘e ain’t made no pretences,” said a third.
“And,” said the oldest workman, “‘e’s outer sight now. What the eye don’t see the ‘art needn’t take no notice of’s what I always say.”
And now, following the track of the hare by the little white blots of scattered paper, came the hounds. There were thirt
