"An outlandish one which would make you laugh. No, no; I do not like being laughed at. I never mention my theories until I have some facts to support them. I am interested in this case. Perhaps I shall go to Withan." There was nothing more to be got out of the professor just then, and I departed. I took the trouble to make inquiry whether any similar crime had happened in England in the January of the preceding year, and had the same inquiry made in France. There was no record of any murder bearing the slightest resemblance to the Withan tragedy. A few days later Quarles telegraphed me to meet him at Kings Cross, and we traveled North together. "Wait," he said when I began to question him. "I am not sure yet. My theory seems absurd. We are going to find out if it is." We took rooms at a hotel in Medworth, Quarles explaining that our investigations might take some days. Next morning, instead of going to Withan as I had expected, he took me to the police court, and seemed to find much amusement in listening to some commonplace cases, and was not very complimentary in his remarks about the bench of magistrates. The next afternoon he arranged a drive. I thought we were going to Withan, but we turned away from the village, and presently Quarles stopped the carriage. "How far are we from Withan?" he asked the driver. "Five or six miles. The road winds a lot. It's a deal nearer as the crow flies." "You need not wait for us, driver. My friend and I are going to walk back." The coachman pocketed his money and drove away. "Couldn't keep him waiting all night, as we may have to do," said Quarles. "Mind you, Wigan, I'm very doubtful about my theory; at least, I am not certain that I shall find the facts I want. A few hours will settle it one way or the other." After walking along the road for about a mile Quarles scrambled through a hedge into a wood by the roadside. "We're trespassers, but we must take our chance. Should we meet anyone, blame me. Say I am a doddering old fool who would walk under the trees and you were obliged to come to see that I didn't get into any mischief. Do you go armed?" "Always," I answered. "I do sometimes," he said, tapping his pocket. "We might come up against danger if my theory is correct. If I tell you to shoot--shoot, and quickly. Your life is likely to depend upon it. And keep your ears open to make sure no one is following us." He had become keen, like a dog on the trail, and, old as he was, seemed incapable of fatigue. Whether he had studied the topography of the neighborhood I cannot say, but he did not hesitate in his direction until he reached a high knoll which was clear of the wood and commanded a considerable view. We were trespassers in a private park. To our right was a large house, only partially seen through its screen of trees, but it was evidently mellow with age. To our left, toward what was evidently the extremity of the park, was hilly ground, which had been allowed to run wild.