“Nobody has dug up the garden?” he asked, and, when the other replied in the negative: “Then I should do a bit of digging myself if I were you, Mr. Southers,” he said gently; “and whether you tell the police what you find, or do not tell the police, is entirely a matter for your own conscience.” He looked up at the sky for a long time as though he were expecting to see an aeroplane, and then: “If it is consistent with your--um--conscience to say nothing about your discovery, and if you removed it or them to a safe place where it or they would not be found, it might be to the advantage of your son in the not too distant future.” Mr. Southers was a little agitated, more than a little bewildered, when Mr. Reeder took his leave. He was to learn that the ban on his activities in regard to the Attymar murder had been strengthened rather than relaxed, and he experienced a gentle but malignant pleasure in the thought that in one respect he had made their task a little more difficult. It was Gaylor who brought the news. “I spoke to the chief about your seeing Southers in Brixton, but he thought it was best if you kept out of the case until the witnesses are tested.” Mr. Reeder’s duties in the Public Prosecutor’s Department were to examine witnesses prior to their appearance in court, to test the strength or the weakness of their testimony, and he had been employed in this capacity before his official connection with the department was made definite. “At the same time,” Gaylor went on, “if you can pick up anything we’ll be glad to have it.” “Naturally,” murmured Mr. Reeder. “I mean, you may by accident hear things--you know these people: they live in the same street: and I think you know the young lady Southers is engaged to?” Mr. Reeder inclined his head. “There’s another thing, Mr. Reeder.” Gaylor evidently felt he was treading on delicate ground, having summarily declined and rejected the assistance of his companion. “If you should hear from Ligsey----” “A voice from the grave,” interrupted Mr. Reeder. “Well, there is a rumour about that he’s not dead. In fact, the boy on the barge, Hobbs, says that Ligsey came alongside last night in a skiff and told him to keep his mouth shut about what he’d seen and heard. My own opinion is that the boy was dreaming, but one of Ligsey’s pals said he’d also seen him or heard him--I don’t know which. That’s a line of investigation you might take on for your own amusement----” “Investigation doesn’t amuse me,” said Mr. Reeder calmly; “it bores me. It wearies me. It brings me in a certain--um--income, but it doesn’t amuse me.” “Well,” said the detective awkwardly, “if it interests you, that’s a line you might take up.” “I shall not dream of taking up any line at all. It means work, and I do not like work.” Here, however, he was permitting himself to romance.