Yale looked up at the sound of the young man’s footsteps. “I can’t tell you,” he said, before Jack had framed his question, and then, seeing the look of astonishment on his face, he laughed. “You were going to ask me what scared Marl, weren’t you?” “I came with that intention,” laughed Jack. “What an extraordinary fellow you are, Mr. Yale! Did you see his extraordinary exhibition of funk?” Derrick Yale nodded. “I saw him just before he had his shock,” he said. “You can see the field path from here.” He frowned. “He reminds me of somebody,” he said slowly, “yet I cannot for the life of me tell who it is. Is he a frequent visitor here? Your father told me he was coming, and I guessed it was he.” Jack shook his head. “This is the first time I’ve seen him,” he said. “I remember now, though, that father and Froyant have had some business dealings with a man named Marl--dad mentioned him one day. I think he is a land speculator. Father is rather interested in land just now. By the way, I have seen the mark of the Crimson Circle,” he added, and described the newly-painted “O” he had found on the elm. Instantly Yale lost interest in Mr. Marl. “It was not on the tree when I went down into the valley,” said Jack. “I’ll swear to that. It must have been painted whilst I was talking to--to a friend. The trunk is out of sight from the boundary fence, and it was quite possible for somebody to have painted the sign without being seen. What does it mean, Mr. Yale?” “It means trouble,” said Yale shortly. He rose abruptly and began pacing the flagged walk, and Jack, after waiting a little while, left him to his meditations. In the meantime, Mr. Felix Marl was comparatively a useless third of a conference which dealt with the transfer of lands. Marl was, as Jack had said, a land speculator, and he had come that morning bringing a promising proposition which he was wholly incapable of explaining. “I can’t help it, gentlemen,” he said, and for the fourth time his trembling hand rose to his lips. “I’ve had a bit of a shock this morning.” “What was that?” But Marl seemed incapable of explanation. He could only shake his head helplessly. “I’m not fit to discuss things calmly,” he said. “You’ll have to put the matter off until to-morrow.” “Do you think I’ve come here to-day for the purpose of listening to that sort of nonsense?” snarled Mr. Froyant. “I tell you I want this business settled. So do you, Beardmore.” Jim Beardmore, who was indifferent as to whether the matter was settled then or the following week, laughed. “I don’t know that it is very important,” he said. “If Mr. Marl is upset, why should we bother him? Perhaps you’ll stay here to-night, Marl?” “No, no, no,” the man’s voice rose almost to a shout. “No, I won’t stay here, if you don’t mind--I would much rather not!” “Just as you like,” said Jim Beardmore indifferently, and folded up the papers he had prepared for signature.