“I’m really beginning to enjoy myself. Show him in, Tredwell. Show him in at once.” 12 Anthony Tells His Story “Mr. Anthony Cade,” announced Tredwell. “Enter suspicious stranger from village inn,” said Anthony. He made his way toward Lord Caterham with a kind of instinct rare in strangers. At the same time he summed up the other three men in his own mind thus: “1, Scotland Yard. 2, Local dignitary—probably chief constable. 3, Harassed gentleman on the verge of apoplexy—possibly connected with the Government.” “I must apologize,” continued Anthony, still addressing Lord Caterham. “For forcing my way in like this, I mean. But it was rumoured round the _Jolly Dog_, or whatever the name of your local pub may be, that you had had a murder up here, and as I thought I might be able to throw some light upon it I came along.” For a moment or two, no one spoke. Superintendent Battle because he was a man of ripe experience who knew how infinitely better it was to let every one else speak if they could be persuaded upon to do so, Colonel Melrose because he was habitually taciturn, George because he was in the habit of having notice given him of the question, Lord Caterham because he had not the least idea of what to say. The silence of the other three, however, and the fact that he had been directly addressed, finally forced speech upon the last named. “Er—quite so—quite so,” he said nervously. “Won’t—you—er—sit down?” “Thank you,” said Anthony. George cleared his throat portentously. “Er—when you say you can throw light upon this matter, you mean——?” “I mean,” said Anthony, “that I was trespassing upon Lord Caterham’s property (for which I hope he will forgive me) last night at about 11.45, and that I actually heard the shot fired. I can at any rate fix the time of the crime for you.” He looked round at the three in turn, his eyes resting longest on Superintendent Battle, the impassivity of whose face he seemed to appreciate. “But I hardly think that that’s news to you,” he added gently. “Meaning by that, Mr. Cade?” asked Battle. “Just this. I put on shoes when I got up this morning. Later, when I asked for my boots, I couldn’t have them. Some nice young constable had called round for them. So I naturally put two and two together, and hurried up here to clear my character if possible.” “A very sensible move,” said Battle non-committally. Anthony’s eyes twinkled a little. “I appreciate your reticence, inspector. It is inspector, isn’t it?” Lord Caterham interposed. He was beginning to take a fancy to Anthony. “Superintendent Battle of Scotland Yard. This is Colonel Melrose, our Chief Constable, and Mr. Lomax.” Anthony looked sharply at George. “Mr. George Lomax?” “Yes.” “I think, Mr. Lomax,” said Anthony, “that I had the pleasure of receiving a letter from you yesterday.” George stared at him. “I think not,” he said coldly.