Market-Place. She stood there some time in silence.

"It shall be a bad job for any man who murdered him if that is so," she
said at last. "I was very fond of my uncle."

"So was I," said Neale. "But I say--no past tenses yet! Aren't we a bit
previous? He may be all right."

"Ring the bell and let's hurry up that dinner," she commanded. "I didn't
make it clear that we want it as early as possible. I want to get out,
and to see where he went--I want to do something active!"

But Miss Betty Fosdyke was obliged to adapt herself to the somewhat
leisurely procedure of highly respectable country-town hotels, whose
cooks will not be hurried, and it was already dusk, and the moonlight
was beginning to throw shadows of gable and spire over the old
Market-Place, when she and Neale set out on their walk.

"All the better," said Neale. "This is just about the time that he went
out on Saturday night, and under very similar conditions. Now we'll take
the precise path that he'd have taken if he was on his way to
Ellersdeane."

He led his companion to a corner of the Market-Place, and down a narrow
alley which terminated on an expanse of open ground at the side of the
river. There he made her pause and look round.

"Now if we're going to do the thing properly," he said, "just attend,
and take notice of what I point out. The town, as you see, stands on
this ridge above us. Here we are at the foot of the gardens and orchards
which slope down from the backs of the houses on this side of the
Market-Place. There is the gate of the bank-house orchard. According to
Mrs. Carswell, Mr. Horbury came out of that gate on Saturday night. What
did he do then? He could have turned to the left, along this river bank,
or to the right, also along the river bank. But, if he meant to walk out
to Ellersdeane--which he would reach in well under an hour--he would
cross this foot-bridge and enter those woods. That's what we've got to
do."

He led his companion across a narrow bridge, over a strip of sward at
the other side of the river, and into a grove of fir which presently
deepened and thickened as it spread up a gently shelving hillside. The
lights of the town behind them disappeared; the gloom increased;
presently they were alternately crossing patches of moonlight and
plunging into expanses of blackness. And Betty, after stumbling over one
or two of the half-exposed roots which lay across the rough path,
slipped a hand into Neale's arm.

"Yo