ust be found. Why are you losing time? Jump into the
car, and Brodie will take you anywhere you want to go. The roads, the
railway stations, must be scoured, searched. Oh, do something, or I
shall go mad!"

Hilton Fenley did, indeed, wear the semblance of a man distraught.
Horror stared from his deep-set eyes and lurked in the corners of his
mouth. His father had been struck dead within a few seconds after they
had separated in the entrance hall, both having quitted the breakfast
room together, and the awful discovery which followed the cry of an
alarmed servant had almost shaken the son's reason.

Farrow was hardly fitted to deal with a crisis of such magnitude, but
he acted promptly and with fixed purpose--qualities which form the
greater part of generalship.

"Bates," he said, turning a determined eye on the keeper, "where was
you when you heard the shot?"

"In the kennels, back of the lodge," came the instant answer.

"And you kem this way at once?"

"Straight. Didn't lose 'arf a minute."

"So no one could have left by the Easton gate without meeting you?"

"That's right."

"And you found Mr. Trenholme--where?"

"Comin' away from the cedars, above the lake."

"What did he say?"

"Tole me about the shot, an' pointed out the Quarry Wood as the place
it kem from."

"Was he upset at all in his manner?"

"Not a bit. Spoke quite nateral-like."

"Well, between the three of us, you an' me an' Mr. Trenholme, we
account for both gates an' the best part of two miles of park. Where
is Jenkins?"

"I left him at the kennels."

"Ah!"

The policeman was momentarily nonplussed. He had formed a theory in
which Jenkins, that young Territorial spark, figured either as a fool
or a criminal.

"What's the use of holding a sort of inquiry on the doorstep?" broke
in Hilton Fenley shrilly. His utterance was nearly hysterical.
Farrow's judicial calm appeared to stir him to frenzy. He clamored for
action, for zealous scouting, and this orderly investigation by mere
words was absolutely maddening.

"I'm not wastin' time, sir," said Farrow respectfully. "It's as
certain as anything can be that the murderer, if murder has been done,
has not got away by either of the gates."

"If murder has been done!" cried Fenley. "What do you mean? Go and
look at my poor father's corpse----"

"Of course, Mr. Fenley is dead, sir, an' sorry I am to hear of it; but
the affair may turn out to be an accident."

"Accident! Farrow, you