“Begin at the very beginning, Uncle Fayre. And, please, what did Mr. Grey say, exactly, about John? Was he really cheerful and is he desperately uncomfortable?” Fayre told her all he had been able to gather from Grey. “He’s going to try to get you an interview again next week. It’s a bit of a strain for you, my dear, I’m afraid, but it means a lot to Leslie.” Cynthia’s almost boyish youth seemed to fall from her like a garment and Fayre, watching her, had a sudden vision of what a charming woman she would make in the days to come. Sybil Kean looked meaningly across at him. “Get on with your story, Hatter,” she said gently, and he knew that she did not want the girl’s emotions played on at this juncture. He told them in as few words as possible of the tramp’s disclosures and his own subsequent investigations. “The probability is,” he finished, “that Mrs. Draycott was picked up at the bottom of the lane leading to Greycross—whether by appointment or not we do not know—and driven to the farm. Why she was taken to the farm is a mystery, unless it was part of a deliberate attempt to cast suspicion on Leslie. It certainly looks as if there was an appointment and she left Greycross to keep it. She was hardly the kind of woman to go for a stroll on a cold, windy night in such unsuitable clothing.” “It was a queer kind of appointment if she did not tell her sister about it,” said Sybil Kean thoughtfully. “It may have been with one of the many friends of whom she knew her sister would disapprove. In fact, that’s pretty obvious, or she’d have asked him to the house instead of slipping out to meet him.” “I suppose Miss Allen can’t suggest anybody?” put in Cynthia. “Useless. I’ve asked her. She did her best—and sent a lot of messages to you, by the way, Cynthia—but she says she knows very little of her sister’s friends. I gather they weren’t a very reputable lot.” “Somebody else may have seen the car,” suggested Cynthia. “There’s always a bare chance,” agreed Fayre. “If our luck holds we may come across some one. You mustn’t forget that the tramp’s not out of the reckoning yet. He admits to being in the immediate neighbourhood of the farm at the time the crime was committed and we’ve no proof that he wasn’t actually present.” “What he said fitted in very well with the carter’s story, though.”