He was talking freely now and Fayre could see that he had managed to gain the man’s confidence and was quick to act on the discovery. He bent forward confidentially. “There’s absolutely nothing you can remember, no matter how small, that happened while you were waiting at the corner of the lane, is there? The murder was committed while you were lying there and there may be something you didn’t think worth mentioning before. I give you my word I won’t pass it on to the police, unless it’s something that will go towards fastening the guilt on the right person.” “Come to that, ’ow am I to know as you don’t think I’m the right person, mister?” queried the man shrewdly. “I was there all right, wasn’t I?” “I’m ready to take your word for it that you never budged from the corner of the lane, and I’m taking my chances there, you know. But if I’m straight with you I look to you to be straight with me.” The tramp leaned back on his pillows wearily. “What do you want me to say?” he asked bitterly. “That I saw the bloomin’ murderer goin’ up the lane with the weapon in ’is ’and? I tell you, I didn’t see no one, ’cause there wasn’t no one to see.” “You’re certain of that?” “As sure as I’m lyin’ ’ere, which I wish I wasn’t.” The conversation languished and Fayre had almost made up his mind to give it up as a bad job and depart when the man turned on him suddenly. “What time would you say that there murder was committed, mister?” he asked. “According to what little we have been able to find out, about six-thirty. It must have been then, if the car you saw had anything to do with it.” Fayre took some sheets of paper out of his pocket and looked up the notes he had made. “Here you are. You saw the car going towards the farm at about six-twenty and you saw it again, coming away, at six-forty or thereabouts. At six-thirty you were at the Lodge gates of Galston. If you can prove that, I think you may consider yourself out of it altogether.” The man hesitated. “’Ow can I prove it? What d’you think?” he said at last. “But I’ll tell you this, though I wouldn’t say it to no one else. And it’s not for the police, mind you. You said as you wouldn’t pass it on, mister?” “I won’t. Fire away.” “There was a woman as might ’ave seen me. She was comin’ towards me on the Whitbury road and she turned into the Lodge just before I got there. Lodge-keeper’s wife, I put her down to be.” Fayre stared at him in amazement. “Good Lord, man!” he cried. “Why on earth didn’t you say so when they questioned you? It’s your one chance of clearing yourself. How do you know she didn’t see you?” “I ’ad me own reasons,” stated the man stubbornly. “The cops won’t get nothin’ out of me I don’t choose to tell.” Fayre shrugged his shoulders. “Hanging’s a nasty death,” he suggested. His curiosity was thoroughly roused, but he knew that his one chance of getting anything out of the man was not to seem too eager. The tramp’s face seemed to grow whiter and more pinched.