Blick exchanged another word or two with Daffy as to Roper’s exact location, and he and his companion went off. The Professor marched along in silence for awhile. “That woman possesses a power of keen insight into character,” he remarked at last. “She’d make a useful member of your force, Blick! I’m sure she’s quite right in what she said just now. A man of the sort she described, who’d nursed his desire for revenge all these years, wouldn’t care very much who knew that he’d satisfied it at last. For him, you see, it would be the end!—all else would be nothing.” “What about self-preservation?” suggested Blick. “I don’t think he’d be at all careful about that,” replied the Professor thoughtfully. “No!—the woman’s intuition is right. I think we must acquit this man Roper. A much-wronged man, too, evidently. I’m curious to see him.” “I daresay we shall soon find him,” said Blick. “He’ll be somewhere in the woods.” He led his companion up Deep Lane, past The Warren and Woodland Cottage, to the summit of the high ground above Markenmore Hollow. Beyond that point Blick had never been; he was surprised to find himself contemplating a stretch of country which in its wildness and diversity contrasted strongly with the pastoral and landscape country that he and his companion had just left behind them. Here, on the northern side of the uplands, the hillsides were broken into deep dark combes and ravines; great masses of rock jutted out from the slopes; old, dark, apparently impenetrable woods were on all sides; the two men, looking round in astonishment at the almost savage character of the scene, observed that as far as they could see there was not a human habitation in sight. “A wild scene!” remarked the Professor. “Deserted!” But Blick lifted a hand. “Hark!” he said. From somewhere to the right of where they stood came the unmistakable ring of an ax, laid with vigour to the root of some tree. Turning in that direction, they saw the tall slender spire of a pine sway, totter, and disappear amongst the lower trees, amidst which it had stood: a dull crash followed. “That’ll be our man at work,” said Blick. Silently the two men crossed the hill-side in the direction whence the sound of the swinging ax, now evidently laid aside, had proceeded. Within a few minutes they reached a belt of trees, through an opening in which they saw a clearing in the wood beyond. There, beside the fallen pine, stood a man, at that moment in the act of lighting his short clay pipe. His ax lay against the tree which it had just felled; near it a dog was curled up against its master’s coat. It cocked an ear and opened an eye as the two strangers drew near; at its low growl, the man turned and gave his visitors a sullen, questioning glance. “A formidable-looking fellow!” murmured the Professor. “And that ax of his is a fearsome weapon, Blick! I should speak him very fair—to begin with.” Blick smiled.