s straight
off at twelve paces, and, when in the mind, he would bowl over running
rabbits with a rook rifle. Yet he never joined the shooting parties in
October. Said it made him ill to see graceful birds shattered by
clumsy folk. All the same, he would ill-treat a horse something
shameful. I----"

The butler bethought himself, and pulled up with a jerk. But Winter
smiled encouragingly.

"Say what you had in mind," he said. "You are not giving evidence.
You may rely on our discretion."

"Well, sir, he's that sort of man who must have his own way, and when
things went against him at home, he'd take it out of any servant or
animal that vexed him afterwards."

"It was not an ideally happy household, I take it?"

"Things went along very smoothly, sir, all things considered. They
have been rather better since Miss Sylvia came home from Brussels. She
was worried about Mrs. Fenley at first, but gave it up as a bad job;
and Mr. Fenley and the young gentlemen used to hide their differences
before her. That was why Mr. Fenley and Mr. Robert blazed up in the
hall on Saturday. They couldn't say a word in front of Miss Sylvia at
the breakfast table."

"The four always met at breakfast, then?"

"Almost without fail, sir. On Monday and Tuesday mornings Mr. Hilton
breakfasted early, and his father was joking about it, for if any one
was late it would be him--or should I say 'he', sir?"

Furneaux cackled.

"I wouldn't have you alter your speech on any account," he grinned.
"Why did Mr. Hilton turn over these new leaves on Monday and Tuesday?"

"He said he had work to do. What it was I don't know, sir. But he
managed to miss the nine forty-five, and Mr. Fenley was vexed about
it. Of course, I don't know why I am telling you these small things.
Mr. Hilton might be angry----"

Some one knocked. Harris, the footman, entered, a scared look on his
face.

"Can you come a moment, Mr. Tomlinson?" he said. "The undertaker is
here for the body."

"What is that?" cried Winter sharply.

The butler arose.

"Didn't Mr. Hilton mention it, sir?" he said. "Dr. Stern must hold a
post mortem before the inquest, and he suggested that it could be
carried through more easily in the mortuary attached to the Cottage
Hospital. Isn't that all right, sir?"

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry. I didn't understand. Go, by all means. We'll wait
here."

When they were alone, the two detectives remained silent for a long
minute. Winter arose and looked throug