Honor demanded that he should not relax that swift pace. Unhappily, the path up the cliff was visible throughout from Grant’s rock, so, on reaching the summit, Robinson was a-boil in more ways than one. Moreover, peeping through the first screen of trees that offered, he had the mortification of seeing the man who had befooled him go back the way he came. Purple-faced with heat and anger, the policeman forgot his surroundings, and glowered at Grant with real fury. So he heard no one approaching along the main road until he was hailed a second time with, “Hello, Robinson!” He turned sharply. This was Mr. Elkin. “Good morning!” he said. “Have you seen the superintendent?” “What? Mr. Fowler? No. Is _he_ here so early?” “I must have missed him.” “Well, you’ll hardly find him on Bush Walk,” which was the name of the path. “You never can tell,” came the dark answer. At any rate, the policeman elected to abandon his self-imposed vigil, and the two walked together into the village. “My! You look as though you’d run a mile,” commented Elkin. “This murder has kept me busy,” growled the other, frankly mopping his forehead. “Ay, that’s so. And it isn’t done with yet, by a long way. Pity you weren’t in the Hare and Hounds last night. You’d have heard something. There’s a chap staying there, name of Ingerman—” “I’ve met him. The dead woman’s husband.” “Oh, perhaps you’ve got his yarn already?” “It all depends what he said to you.” “Well, he hinted things. Unless I’m greatly mistaken, you’ll soon be making an arrest.” “I believe I could put my hand on the murderer this very minute,” said Robinson vindictively. Elkin laughed, somewhat half-heartedly. “Lay you fifty to one against the time,” he said. “I’m the only one near enough for that limit, you know.” The policeman realized that he had allowed annoyance to shake his wits. He looked at Elkin rather sharply, and noticed that the horse-breeder seemed to be nervous and ill. “I didn’t quite mean that I could grab my man this minute,” he said, “but, if I can guess him, it amounts to nearly the same thing. What have you been doing to yourself, Mr. Elkin? You look peeky to-day.” “Too much whiskey and tobacco. I’ll call at Siddle’s for a ‘pick-me-up.’ Am I wanted for the jury?” “Yes. I left a notice at your place last evening.” “I didn’t get it.” “Been away?” “No. Fact is, I went home late, and didn’t bother about letters this morning. What time is the inquest?” “Three o’clock, in the club-room of the Hare and Hounds.” “Will that fellow, Grant, be there?” “Rather. Dr. Foxton warned him yesterday.” “Good! What about Doris Martin? Will she be a witness?” “Not to-day.” They were entering the village, and could see down the long, wide slope of the hill. Grant had just come into sight at its foot.