The car slid away, leaving Fayre, for all his even temper, a little ruffled. His offer, not a very practical one, perhaps, but none the less heartfelt for that, had been quietly, but firmly, put aside. The lump of sugar, skilfully administered after the pill, did not deceive him and he was human enough to feel snubbed. There was something significant, too, in the way in which Kean had quietly pocketed his find in the garden. Evidently he had no intention of taking his old friend into his confidence with regard to his conduct of the case. Fayre, who had meant to ask him his intentions should Leslie be committed for trial, decided to leave all such negotiations to Lady Kean. They had both hoped that he might be persuaded to undertake the defence and he felt now that she was the only person who could be counted on to influence him, should the occasion arise. He returned to the farm in as near a bad temper as was possible to one of his temperament and thoroughly out of patience with the legal mind. “If Edward takes this line, blessed if I don’t do a bit of investigating on my own,” he told himself doggedly. “He always was a hide-bound beggar. Come to that, why couldn’t he let Cynthia go and see Miss Allen? She’d probably get more out of her, as woman to woman, than he will. Another of his absurd points of legal etiquette.” Meanwhile the object of his wrath was reviewing the situation as the motor bore him swiftly on his way to Greycross. If Cynthia had seen his face now she would have been robbed of even the faint hope that had been kindled by his visit to the farm. But he felt no doubt as to Leslie’s innocence. His manner, all that he knew of him in the past, the complete lack of motive, even the very weakness of his alibi, all served to exonerate him; but, as Kean knew from long experience, only the lack of motive would weigh with a jury. He had guessed that part of Leslie’s time on the Monday had been passed in the company of Cynthia Bell and had counted on her to produce a sufficient alibi, expecting to be confronted with nothing more serious than the boy’s chivalrous desire to shield her. He had been far more concerned than he had chosen to admit, even to Fayre, when he found that Cynthia’s evidence would be worse than useless. He was so deep in thought that he was taken unawares when the motor drew up in front of Miss Allen’s pleasant, picturesque old house.