him," he said, "you suggest the
admirable expedient of going to the only place on the habitable earth
where we know he can't be."

The constable and I could not avoid breaking into a kind of assenting
laugh, and Rupert, who had family eloquence, was encouraged to go on
with a reiterated gesture:

"He may be in Buckingham Palace; he may be sitting astride the cross of
St Paul's; he may be in jail (which I think most likely); he may be
in the Great Wheel; he may be in my pantry; he may be in your store
cupboard; but out of all the innumerable points of space, there is only
one where he has just been systematically looked for and where we know
that he is not to be found--and that, if I understand you rightly, is
where you want us to go."

"Exactly," said Basil calmly, getting into his great-coat; "I thought
you might care to accompany me. If not, of course, make yourselves jolly
here till I come back."

It is our nature always to follow vanishing things and value them if
they really show a resolution to depart. We all followed Basil, and I
cannot say why, except that he was a vanishing thing, that he vanished
decisively with his great-coat and his stick. Rupert ran after him with
a considerable flurry of rationality.

"My dear chap," he cried, "do you really mean that you see any good in
going down to this ridiculous scrub, where there is nothing but beaten
tracks and a few twisted trees, simply because it was the first place
that came into a rowdy lieutenant's head when he wanted to give a lying
reference in a scrape?"

"Yes," said Basil, taking out his watch, "and, what's worse, we've lost
the train."

He paused a moment and then added: "As a matter of fact, I think we may
just as well go down later in the day. I have some writing to do, and
I think you told me, Rupert, that you thought of going to the Dulwich
Gallery. I was rather too impetuous. Very likely he wouldn't be in. But
if we get down by the 5.15, which gets to Purley about 6, I expect we
shall just catch him."

"Catch him!" cried his brother, in a kind of final anger. "I wish we
could. Where the deuce shall we catch him now?"

"I keep forgetting the name of the common," said Basil, as he buttoned
up his coat. "The Elms--what is it? Buxton Common, near Purley. That's
where we shall find him."

"But there is no such place," groaned Rupert; but he followed his
brother downstairs.

We all followed him. We snatched our hats from the hat-stand and ou