'I wish I could tell you, sir. A very doubtful character. I found him prowling at the back of the house very suspiciously. He took to his heels and I followed him.' 'But'--I spoke querulously, my orderly nature was shocked--'you can't go shooting at people like that just because you find them at the back of the house. He might have been a tradesman.' 'I think not, sir.' 'Well, so do I, if it comes to that. He didn't behave like one. But all the same--' 'I take your point, sir. But I was merely intending to frighten him.' 'You succeeded all right. He went through those bushes like a cannon-ball.' I heard him chuckle. 'I think I may have scared him a little, sir.' 'We must phone to the police-station. Could you describe the man?' 'I think not, sir. It was very dark. And, if I may make the suggestion, it would be better not to inform the police. I have a very poor opinion of these country constables.' 'But we can't have men prowling--' 'If you will permit me, sir. I say--let them prowl. It's the only way to catch them.' 'If you think this sort of thing is likely to happen again I must tell Mr Abney.' 'Pardon me, sir, I think it would be better not. He impresses me as a somewhat nervous gentleman, and it would only disturb him.' At this moment it suddenly struck me that, in my interest in the mysterious fugitive, I had omitted to notice what was really the most remarkable point in the whole affair. How did White happen to have a revolver at all? I have met many butlers who behaved unexpectedly in their spare time. One I knew played the fiddle; another preached Socialism in Hyde Park. But I had never yet come across a butler who fired pistols. 'What were you doing with a revolver?' I asked. He hesitated. 'May I ask you to keep it to yourself, sir, if I tell you something?' he said at last. 'What do you mean?' 'I'm a detective.' 'What!' 'A Pinkerton's man, Mr Burns.' I felt like one who sees the 'danger' board over thin ice. But for this information, who knew what rash move I might not have made, under the assumption that the Little Nugget was unguarded? At the same time, I could not help reflecting that, if things had been complex before, they had become far more so in the light of this discovery. To spirit Ogden away had never struck me, since his arrival at the school, as an easy task. It seemed more difficult now than ever. I had the sense to affect astonishment. I made my imitation of an innocent assistant-master astounded by the news that the butler is a detective in disguise as realistic as I was able. It appeared to be satisfactory, for he began to explain. 'I am employed by Mr Elmer Ford to guard his son. There are several parties after that boy, Mr Burns. Naturally he is a considerable prize. Mr Ford would pay a large sum to get back his only son if he were kidnapped. So it stands to reason he takes precautions.' 'Does Mr Abney know what you are?'