William grunted noncommittally. “I was telling her that a friend of mine, whom I expected to come up to the house to see me last night, never turned up; and I was wondering if you’d seen anything of him down at the lodge.” William ostentatiously busied himself with a small plant. “Never see’d no one,” he observed with decision. “No? Never mind, then. It doesn’t really matter. That’s an interesting job you’ve got on hand, William. You take a plant out of its pot, sniff its roots and put it back again; is that it? Now what operation do you call that in the science of horticulture?” William hastily relinquished the plant and glowered at his interlocutor. “Some folks mayn’t have no work to do,” he remarked darkly; “but other folks ’ave.” “Meaning yourself, I take it?” Roger said approvingly. “That’s right. Work away. Nothing like it, is there? Keeps you cheerful and bright and contented. Great thing, work, I agree with you.” A flicker of interest passed across William’s countenance. “What did that there Mr. Stanworth want to shoot hisself for, eh?” he demanded suddenly. “I don’t know, to tell you the truth,” said Roger, somewhat taken aback at the unexpectedness of this query. “Why, have you got any ideas about it?” “I don’t ’old with it meself,” said William primly. “Not with sooeycide.” “You’re absolutely right, William,” Roger replied warmly. “If more people were like you, there’d be—there’d be less suicides, undoubtedly. It’s an untidy habit, to say the least.” “It ain’t acting right,” William pursued firmly. “That’s what it ain’t.” “You put it in a nutshell, William; it isn’t. In fact, it’s acting all wrong. By the way, William, somebody or other was telling me that a stranger had been seen about the grounds during the last day or two. You noticed him by any chance?” “Stranger? What sort of a stranger?” “Oh, the usual sort; a head and four pairs of fingers, you know. This particular one, they said, was a rather large man. Have you seen a rather large strange man round the house lately?” William cogitated deeply. “I ’ave an’ all.” “Have you, though? When?” William cogitated again. “It ’ud be a matter of ha’-past eight last night,” he announced at last. “Ha’-past eight it ’ud be, as near as anything. I was a-settin’ out in front o’ the lodge, an’ up he walks, bold as brass, an’ nods at me an’ goes on up the drive.” Roger exchanged glances with Alec. “Yes, William?” he said warmly. “A man you’d never seen before? A fairly large man?” “A very large man,” William corrected meticulously. “A very large man. Excellent! Go on. What happened?” “Well, I says to the missus, ‘Oo’s that?’ I says. ‘A-walkin’ up the drive as if he owned the place.’” William pondered. “‘As if he _owned_ the place,’ I says,” he repeated firmly. “And a very good thing to say, too. Well?”