"Yes, something o' that sort," muttered Bunting.

"Well, if your idea's correct, Mr. Bunting--"

"I never said 'twas my idea," said Bunting, all in a hurry.

"Well, if that idea's correct then, 'twill make our task more
difficult than ever. Why, 'twould be looking for a needle in a
field of hay, Mr. Bunting! But there! I don't think it's
anything quite so unlikely as that--not myself I don't." He
hesitated. "There's some of us"--he lowered his voice--"that
hopes he'll betake himself off--The Avenger, I mean--to another
big city, to Manchester or to Edinburgh. There'd be plenty of
work for him to do there," and Chandler chuckled at his own grim
joke.

And then, to both men's secret relief, for Bunting was now
mortally afraid of this discussion concerning The Avenger and
his doings, they heard Mrs. Bunting's key in the lock.

Daisy blushed rosy-red with pleasure when she saw that young
Chandler was still there. She had feared that when they got home
he would be gone, the more so that Ellen, just as if she was doing
it on purpose, had lingered aggravatingly long over each small
purchase.

"Here's Joe come to ask if he can take Daisy out for a walk,"
blurted out Bunting.