The constable stared at them, and then stopped trying to understand.
"And there"s a troll downstairs who insists on speaking to whoever"s in charge - "
"Can"t Stronginthearm deal with it?"
"Er... is Sergeant Stronginthearm still a sergeant?" said the constable.
"Yes!"
"Even unconscious?"
"What?"
"He"s flat on the floor right now, Sar - Captain."
"What"s the troll want?"
"Right now he wants to kill someone, but mainly I think he wants someone to take the clamp off"f his foot."
Gaspode ran up and down, nose barely an inch from the ground. Carrot waited, holding his horse. It was a good one. Carrot hadn"t spent a lot of his wages, up until now.
Finally the dog sat down and looked depressed.
"So tell me about this wonderful nose the, Patrician has got, then," he said.
"Not a trace?"
"You"d better get Vetinari down here, if he"s so
good," said Gaspode. "What"s the point of starting here? Worst place in the whole city! It"s the gate to the cattle market, am I right? Trying not to smell stuff is the trick here, is the point I"m makin". There"s ground-in stink. If you wanted to get on the trail of somebody, this is the last place I"d start."
"Very good point," said Carrot carefully. "So, what"s the strongest smell heading Hubwards?"
"Dung carts, o"course. Yesterday. Always a big clear-out of the pens first thing Friday morning."
"You can follow the smell?"
Gaspode rolled his eyes. "With my head in a bucket."
"Good. Let"s go."
"So," said Gaspode, as they began to leave the gate"s bustle behind, "we"re chasing this girl, right?"
"Yes."
"Just you?"
"Yes."
"Not like with dogs, then, where there might be twenty or thirty?"
"No."
"So we"re not looking at a bucket of cold water here?"
"No."
Constable Shoe saluted, but a little testily. He"d been waiting rather a long time. "Afternoon, Sergeant - "