“Give me a hand, Knox!” cried the voice of Harley from below. “I want to avoid the barbed wire if possible.” He had come across country, and as I scrambled down the slope to meet him I could not help wondering with what object he had sent us ahead by the high road. Presently, when he came clambering up into the garden, this in a measure was explained, for: “You are all wondering,” he began, rapidly, “what I am up to, no doubt. Let me endeavour to make it clear. In order that my test should be conclusive, and in no way influenced by pre-knowledge of certain arrangements which I had made, I sent you on ahead of me. Not wishing to waste time, I followed by the shorter route. And now, gentlemen, let us begin.” “Good,” muttered Inspector Aylesbury. “But first of all,” continued Harley, “I wish each one of you in turn to look out of the window of the hut, and down into the Tudor garden of Cray’s Folly. Will you begin, Wessex?” Wessex, taking his pipe out of his mouth, and staring hard at the speaker, nodded, entered the hut, and kneeling on the wooden seat, looked out of the window. “Open the panes,” said Harley, “so that you have a perfectly clear view.” Wessex slid the panes open and stared intently down into the valley. “Do you see anything unusual in the garden?” “Nothing,” he reported. “And now, Inspector Aylesbury.” Inspector Aylesbury stamped noisily across the little hut, and peered out, briefly. “I can see the garden,” he said. “Can you see the sun-dial?” “Quite clearly.” “Good. And now you, Knox.” I followed, filled with astonishment. “Do you see the sun-dial?” asked Harley, again. “Quite clearly.” “And beyond it?” “Yes, I can see beyond it. I can even see its shadow lying like a black band on the path.” “And you can see the yew trees?” “Of course.” “But nothing else? Nothing unusual?” “Nothing.” “Very well,” said Harley, tersely. “And now, gentlemen, we take to the rough ground, proceeding due east. Will you be good enough to follow?” Walking around the hut he found an opening in the hedge, and scrambled down into the place where rank grass grew and through which he and I on a previous occasion had made our way to the high road. To-night, however, he did not turn toward the high road, but proceeded along the crest of the hill. I followed him, excited by the novelty of the proceedings. Wessex, very silent, came behind me, and Inspector Aylesbury, swearing under his breath, waded through the long grass at the rear. “Will you all turn your attention to the garden again, please?” cried Harley. We all paused, looking to the right. “Anything unusual?” We were agreed that there was not.