“Hullo, Bude,” said the boy, “you’ve grown very inhospitable all of a sudden!” “God bless my soul if it isn’t young Mr. Wright!” exclaimed the butler. “And I thought it was another of those dratted reporters. It’s been ring, ring, ring the whole blessed morning, sir, you can believe me, as if they owned the place, wanting to interview me and Mr. Jeekes and Miss Trevert and the Lord knows who else. Lot of interfering busybodies, _I_ call ’em! I’d shut up all noospapers by law if I had my way ...” “Is Mr. Jeekes here, Bude?” asked Bruce. “He’s gone off to London in the car, sir ... But won’t you come in, Mr. Wright? If you wouldn’t mind coming in by the side door. I have to keep the front door closed to shut them scribbling fellows out. One of them had the face to ask me to let him into the library to take a photograph ...” He led the way round the side of the house to the glass door in the library corridor. “This is a sad business, Bude!” said Bruce. “Ah, indeed, it is, sir,” he sighed. “He had his faults had Mr. Parrish, as well _you_ know, Mr. Wright. But he was an open-handed gentleman, that I will say, and we’ll all miss him at Harkings ...” They were now in the corridor. Bude jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “It was in there they found him,” he said in a low voice, “with a hole plumb over the heart.” His voice sank to a whisper. “There’s blood on the carpet!” he added impressively. “I should like just to take a peep at the room, Bude,” ventured the boy, casting a sidelong glance at the butler. “Can’t be done, sir,” said Bude, shaking his head; “orders of Detective-Inspector Manderton. The police is very strict, Mr. Wright, sir!” “There seems to be no one around just now, Bude,” the young man wheedled. “There can’t be any harm in my just going in for a second?...” “Go in you should, Mr. Wright, sir,” said the butler genially, “if I had my way. But the door’s locked. And, what’s more, the police have the key.” “Is the detective anywhere about?” asked Bruce. “No, sir,” answered Bude. “He’s gone off to town, too! And he don’t expect to be back before the inquest. That’s for Toosday!” “But isn’t there another key anywhere?” persisted the boy. “No, sir,” said Bude positively, “there isn’t but the one. And that’s in Mr. Manderton’s vest pocket!” Young Wright wrinkled his brow in perplexity. He was very young, but he had a fine strain of perseverance in him. He was not nearly at the end of his resources, he told himself. “Well, then,” he said suddenly, “I’m going outside to have a look through the window. I remember you can see into the library from the path round the house!” He darted out, the butler, protesting, lumbering along behind him. “Mr. Wright,” he panted as he ran, “you didn’t reelly ought ... If any one should come ...” But Bruce Wright was already at the window. The butler found him leaning on the sill, peering with an air of frightened curiosity into the empty room.