sue, according to the murdered man's
own statement. That, I take it, is the police theory of this case."

"It is," said Superintendent Galloway. "You've put it a bit more
fancifully than I should, but it comes to the same thing. But what do
you make out of the incident at the Grand Hotel, Durrington, yesterday
morning? You were there, and saw it all. Does it seem strange to you
that Ronald should have come straight to this inn and committed a murder
after making that scene at the hotel? Do you think it suggests that
Ronald has, well--impulses of violence, let us say?" Superintendent
Galloway poured himself out another glass of old brandy and sipped it
deliberately, watching the detective cautiously between the sips.

Colwyn was silent for a moment. He was quick to comprehend the
double-barrelled motive which underlay the superintendent's question,
and he had no intention of letting the police officer pump him for his
own ends.

"Sir Henry Durwood would be better able to answer that question than I,"
he said.

"I asked him when we were driving over here this afternoon, but he shut
up like an oyster--you know what these professional men are, with their
stiff-and-starched ideas of etiquette," grumbled the superintendent.

A flicker of amusement showed in Colwyn's eyes. Really the
superintendent was easily drawn, for an East Anglian countryman. "After
all, it is only Sir Henry Durwood's opinion that Ronald intended
violence at the _Grand_," he said. "Sir Henry did not give him the
opportunity to carry out his intention--if he had such an intention."

"Exactly my opinion," exclaimed Superintendent Galloway, eagerly rising
to the fly. "I have ascertained that Ronald's behaviour during the time
he was staying at the hotel was that of an ordinary sane Englishman. The
proprietor says he was quite a gentleman, with nothing eccentric or
peculiar about him, and the servants say the same. They are the best
judges, after all. And nobody noticed anything peculiar about him at the
breakfast table except yourself and Sir Henry--and what happened?
Nothing, except that he was a bit excited--and no wonder, after the
young man had just been ordered to leave the hotel. Then Sir Henry
grabbed hold of him and he fainted--or pretended to faint; it may have
been all part of his game. Sir Henry may have thought he intended to do
something or other, but no British judge would admit that as evidence
for the defence. This chap Ronald is as san