displeased him, because an
arbitrary rule merely said it was so."

"An ingenious excuse for not learning a lesson, but I don't see----"

"Consider. Mortimer Fenley was shot dead at nine thirty this morning,
and the bullet which killed him came from the neighborhood of the rock
above our heads. One shot was fired. It was so certain, so true of
aim, that the murderer made sure of hitting him--at a fairly long
range, too. How many men were there in Roxton and Easton this
morning--was there even one woman?--capable of sighting a rifle with
such calm confidence of success? Mind you, Fenley had to be killed
dead. No bungling. A severe wound from which he might recover would
not meet the case at all. Again, how many rifles are there in the
united parishes of Roxton and Easton of the type which fires expanding
bullets?"

"Of course, those vital facts narrow down the field, but Hilton Fenley
was unquestionably in the house."

Furneaux cackled shrilly.

"You're in Herbert's class, Charles," he cried, delighted at having
trapped his big friend.

"Pardon me, gentlemen," said a voice from among the leaves, "but I
thought you might like to know that Mr. Robert Fenley is starting off
again on his motor bike."

Even as Police Constable Farrow spoke they heard the loud snorting of
an exhaust, marking the initial efforts of a motor bicycle's engine to
get under way. In a few seconds came the rhythmic beat of the machine
as it gathered speed; the two men looked at each other and laughed.

"Master Robert defies the majesty of the law," said Winter dryly.
"Perhaps, taking one consideration with another, it's the best thing
he could have done."

"He is almost bound to enter London by the Edgware Road," said
Furneaux instantly.

"Just so. I noticed the make and number of his machine. A
plain-clothes man on an ordinary bicycle can follow him easily from
Brondesbury onwards. Time him, and get on the telephone while I keep
Hilton in talk. If we're mistaken we'll ring up Brondesbury again."

Winter was curtly official in tone when Hilton Fenley came downstairs
at his request.

"Why did your brother rush off in such an extraordinary hurry?" he
asked.

"How can I tell you?" was the reply, given offhandedly, as if the
matter was of no importance. "He comes and goes without consulting my
wishes, I assure you."

"But I requested him to meet me here at this very hour. There are
questions he has to answer, and it would have been best