Tobias checked his pocket watch - his new one, for his father's watch had never been recovered and he doubted it would. He made a round of all the pawnshops whenever he was in Whitby, but so far he had had no luck, and he suspected that the robbers had sold their wares somewhere else. His new watch was of a more modern, elegant design and it opened more easily, but every time it lay in his hand, it just didn't feel right. The number of times he had seen his father take out that watch to check the hour.

A quarter past eleven. He was early. It was sunny day, but not too hot, and he had chosen the valley road, which was cooler and easier on the horses, though he personally preferred the moors. Tobias was here to sell produce, and then go to the bank, do some business, and do another doomed round of the pawn shops. 

He took in a moment to take in the busy harbour, the train station where tourists where coming and going, the warehouses by the quay. He liked watching it, but he always liked leaving the bustle of the town behind even more.

Tobias got down from the wagon and led the horses to a drinking trough. There, he undid the mouthpieces and let them drink, keeping an eye on the wagon and its goods while holding the horses.