"Yes; old Mr. Ledbury never used to trouble much, and if one took a walk in his woods there was no particular questions asked." "This lawyer chap's too sharp." "He got more than his share. When the old man died, everyone in the village said it was a shame those two Hamilton children should have been overlooked and left nothing. Some folks went so far as to say there must have been a later will, and gave Mr. Wilfred the credit of suppressing it. There was a lot of talk at the time. It seems there was a big sum of money, thousands of pounds it was, that old Mr. Ledbury was known to have received only a day or so before his death. It had been paid over to him in notes. He hadn't put it in the bank, and after his death it never turned up. He was a queer chap was old Ledbury; fond of gambling, and the tale went that he must have lost it at play." "Now you speak of it, I've heard some talk in the village myself. They say old Ledbury was a miser as well as a gambler, and hoarded things like a magpie. It was a queer thing what he'd done with that money." "It was uncommon queer," replied Bob, "and between you and me, Albert, I could tell you a thing or two about that." "What do you mean?" "Something I saw once," admitted Bob cautiously. "But so far it's not been worth my while to let on about it, and I ain't been able to take advantage of it myself. I sometimes think if I'd a pal now----" "You and me was always thick, Bob," put in Albert eagerly. "I dare say. But you go clacking like an old hen, when you've a drop of drink in you!" "I wouldn't touch aught--leastways not more than my usual pint at supper." "If I thought you could keep a still tongue, the two of us might manage a pretty big deal. It 'ud be a risky enough job, but I know you don't stop at a trifle." "Not me!" chuckled Albert. "Well, I don't mind tellin' you that I was peepin' in under the blinds at the Grange on the very night before old Mr. Ledbury died." "And what did ye see?" "Never you mind what I saw exactly, but all they panels aren't solid like the rest. There be one as takes out." "Wheer?" "Ain't I tellin' you? In the room at the Grange, plump opposite the fireplace it were. There's a knob as twists. Look here, if you've a-set that noose proper, why can't you be comin'? Do you expect me to be waitin' on you same as if you was Captain Gordon? If we ain't quick the keepers will be comin'. That Morris always takes a round about dark, that's what brought me out so early." "All right, but as you was a-sayin'----" grunted Albert, his voice sinking to a murmur as he rose and followed his estimable friend farther into the wood, where more snares might be set with advantage during the progress of their conversation.