The Man Who Knew
. So that it was possible for any man who troubled to jump the low stone wall which ran by t
, are few and far between. Constable Wiseman, of the Eastbourne constabulary, certainly was not curious. He paced his slow, moist
nset, though lowering rain clouds had so darkened the world that night had closed down
d of his beat and met
reported; "only old Minute's lights are
the sergeant, pulling his bic
on the treadle
but I don't think he
hen remarked: "Something
with his officer he could induce that loquacious gentleman to talk for a quarter of an hour, so much dull time might be passe
he sergeant, and pushed his machine to the pr
impress upon his subordinate's mind a point of
dangerous old
Wiseman, with the recollection of
d by 'dangerous' I mean that he's the sort of old fellow that wou
Mr. Wiseman at this revelati
t Smith
least, I've seen him. I was in Matabeleland with him, and I tell
errible life, sergeant," e
laughed
e," he
tion to influence. What that influence was none could say. It had been suggested that John Minute himself had secured him his sergeant's stri
for some technical offense, and had made it in fear and trembling, expecting his sergeant promptly to squash this attempt to persecute his pat
aid the sergeant suddenly, "and I'll ride up t
ooked for a long time toward the open French windows, and then, jumping the wall, made his way slowly across the lawn, avoiding
He sat in a deep armchair in his favorite attitude, his hands pushed into his pockets, his head upon his chest.
?" growled John Minut
rgeant, and he spoke
me
a large bookcase which half covered one wall. This was the "library," and it was filled with books of uniform binding which occupied the shelves. The books had been supplied by a great bookseller of London, and included-at Mr.
avy boots on the sodden mat outside
tty cozy, Jo
?" asked Minute,
our windows were open, and I felt it my duty to com
other steadily. "Your constable, as you call him,
ape. "I don't often trouble you, but somehow I had a feeling I'd l
I hope," said John
our hundred miles north of Gwelo,"
wn," said John Minute, "where the Cape government keeps hi
t Smith
that they have plenty of accommodation on the breakwater, John. The
ant?" asked Jo
her gr
nothing like the work we have in the Matabele mounted police, eh, John? But, Lord," he said, looking into the fire thoughtfully, "when I think how I stood up in the attorney's office at Salisbury and took my solemn oath that old Joh
wag?" asked John Minute. "I'd give a lot of money to see you blush, Crawley; and now, for about the fourteenth time, what do
d him with a mot
that you promised me my fair share over those Saibach claims. It i
paid," said Joh
for the surrender of your soul's
pe on his broad shoulders
per Henry Crawley, the lawbreaker, who spoke. "You are not going to satisfy me much longer
arts," said John Minute, "and I'l
me," were the last words of the s
motor car swung into the drive and pulled up before the dark doorway of the house. He was over the wall again in an i
ector," and wondered who was the guest. His curiosity was not to be satisfied, for by the time he had reached the
speech but of authoritative tone. This was Inspector Nash, of Scotland Yard, who was in charge of th
ponse to the telegraphed instructi
he news?"
found your Mr. Holland
acted a snapshot photograph. It represented a big motor car, a
llen out of the man's pocket. I made inquiries and found that it was taken by a small photographer in Putney, and that the man had called for the photographs about ten o'clock in the morning of the same day that he sent
uggest that this fe
ctor shoo
selves. I have been unable to identify him, except that he went by the name of Feltham and was an Australian. That was the name he gave to the photographer with whom he talked. You see, the photograph was taken in
lived in a lockup cottage some distance from Haslemere-evidently rather a swagger affair, because its owner had an electric cable and telephone wires l
the girl was a silent listener. It was not until very late
e said, "because I am getting
e, uncle?" she s
nod
to Jasper's study, and sh
," he said, "I spoke to you about your marriage, an
no
ncle, won't you tell me why you want me to delay my marriage for
mediately, but paced
r worried me when I was flush of money, never denied me when I was broke. Whenever he helped me, he was content with what reward I offered him. There was no 'fifty-fifty' with Bill Nuttall. He was a man who had no ambition, no avarice-the whitest man I have ever met. What I
huckled as at an
th a little less than sixp
ft, penetrating glances, as though he
rom me. I cannot tell whether it is true until I have heard from the engineers, who are now examining the property, and I cannot know that for a fortnight. May, you are a dear girl," he said, and laid his hand on her arm, "and I have looked after you
ureau, unlocked a drawe
r given him authority to bore. I have no recollection of his ever having told me anything of the so
it for a better ma
ined hi
get married for a for
is almost solemn entreaty. There had been no mistaking his earnestness or his sincerity. If he would only take her into his confidence-and yet she recognized and was surprised at the revelation that she did not want that confidence. She wanted
er dressing gown and went to the window. The rain had ceased, the clouds had broken and stood in black bars against the silver light
thought possibly he had gone to bed and left the light on, and her hand was on the knob to
efully with Mackensen, the accountan
-" demande
rank. He had access to the books. He was the only person who saw Rex Holland; he was the only o
d as though she would faint. She clutched t
n Minute slowly. "It is awful to believe that
y," said Jasper's vo
n the door and sto
hfully. "A horrible lie-and y
she turned, slamming