there's a lot of comin' an' goin' between
the two places. But folks would always look on it as natural enough. Yes,
I've seen 'em together more than once."

"In that case, he can hardly grumble if the postmaster's daughter has an
eye for another young man."

"Miss Martin!" snorted Robinson. "She wouldn't look the side of the road
he was on. Fred Elkin isn't her sort."

"But he said to-night in the Hare and Hounds that he and Miss Martin were
practically engaged."

"Stuff an' nonsense! Sorry, sir, but I admire Doris Martin. I like to see
a girl like her liftin' herself out of the common gang. She's the
smartest young lady in the village, an' not an atom of a snob. No, no.
She isn't for Fred Elkin. Before this murder cropped up everybody would
have it that Mr. Grant would marry her."

"How does the murder intervene?"

Robinson shifted uneasily in his chair. He knew only too well that he
himself had driven a wedge between the two.

"Steynholme's a funny spot, sir," he contrived to explain. "Since it came
out that Doris an' Mr. Grant were in the garden at The Hollies at half
past ten on Monday night, without Mr. Martin knowin' where his daughter
was, there's been talk. Both the postmaster an' the girl herself are up
to it. You can see it in their faces. They don't like it, an' who can
blame 'em!"

"Who, indeed? But this Elkin--surely he had some ground for a definite
boast, made openly, among people acquainted with all the parties?"

"There's more than Elkin would marry Doris if she lifted a finger, sir."

"Can you name them?"

"Well, Tomlin wants a wife."

Winter laughed joyously.

"Next?" he cried.

"They say that Mr. Siddle is a widower."

"The chemist? Foreman of the jury?"

"Yes, sir."

"From appearances, he is a likelier candidate than either Elkin or
Tomlin. Anybody else?"

"I shouldn't be far wrong if I gave you the name of most among the young
unmarried men in the parish."

"Dear me! I must have a peep at this charmer. But I want those names,
Robinson."

Winter produced a note-book, so he was evidently taking the matter
seriously. The policeman, however, was flustered. His thoughts ran on
Elkin, whereas this masterful person from London insisted on discussing
Doris Martin.

"My difficulty is, sir, that she has never kep' company with any of
'em," he said.

"Never mind. Give me the name of every man who, no matter what his
position or prospects, might be irritated, if no more, if he kn