"Away with your word-twists! I've done with them.--I say, Dereham, let's have a round with the gloves," he broke off, as his eyes fell on a couple of pairs that had been tossed into one corner. Dereham looked Griff's lengthy muscularity up and down. "Hit a man your own size," he observed, with a pleasant grin. But he put on the gloves for all that, and they went at it hammer-and-tongs, as of old. Griff was more than a match for his opponent in height and driving power, but the slighter man had the advantage in quickness; and at the end of the bout they were on pretty equal terms with regard to blows given and received. "That does one good," panted Griff. "I am not allowed to slip out at nights now, Dereham; little moonlight picnics have been knocked on the head. It's a big responsibility getting married." "Of course it is. Preserve me from having a woman pin her heart to my coat-tails; it must be no end of a drag." "You are an ass, old fellow," retorted Griff, tranquilly; "it is the finest spur a man can have." "Lord, Lord! this life is dulling you; I knew it would. Let's talk of the weather." "It is odd to think of four of the old set coming together on one narrow strip of moor," said Griff, breaking a lengthy silence. "Four? Who's the fourth?" asked Dereham, sharply. Griff, remembering Roddick's secret, bit his lips and answered nothing. "I think I can guess," said the other, presently. "The other night I saw something up above the Folly that gave me a clue; it was lucky for them that the stars and I had the sight to ourselves. Roddick disappeared from town as suddenly as you did. Is that the secret? Well, it is safe enough with me. Roddick may be a fool for his pains, but he's a jolly good sort. As to the oddity, I don't quite see it. I have been due to come to the Folly for a fortnight's shooting ever since last winter; so has Sybil Ogilvie; Roddick follows for the best, and the worst, of all possible reasons--and, hey presto! where has your mystery gone?" "Shall you go to see him?" "Yes. Where does he live? I can't leave without saying how-d'ye-do to him. Do you know his story, by the way?" "From start to finish. Poor beggar, he's in a tight place." "I sometimes think," said Dereham, with a carelessness that sat oddly on his words, "I sometimes think that if I had lost all that makes life worth living, I should go and strangle that beast-wife of Roddick's. Not that I should, really; but it would be the truest service one could do him." "I have played with that notion, too; it would be a tough problem to settle, if----," said Lomax, musingly.