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Page 97
"One last question," he said. "Was Mark fond of swimming?"
"No, he hated it. I don't believe he could swim. Tony, are you
mad, or am I? Or is this a new game?"
Antony squeezed his arm.
"Dear old Bill," he said. "It's a game. What a game! And the
answer is Cartwright in Wimpole Street."
They walked in silence for half a mile or so along the road to
Waldheim. Bill tried two or three times to get his friend to
talk, but Antony had only grunted in reply. He was just going to
make another attempt, when Antony came to a sudden stop and
turned to him anxiously.
"I wonder if you'd do something for me," he said, looking at him
with some doubt.
"What sort of thing?"
"Well, it's really dashed important. It's just the one thing I
want now."
Bill was suddenly enthusiastic again.
"I say, have you really found it all out?"
Antony nodded.
"At least, I'm very nearly there, Bill. There's just this one
thing I want now. It means your going back to Stanton. Well, we
haven't come far; it won't take you long. Do you mind?"
"My dear Holmes, I am at your service."
Antony gave him a smile and was silent for a little, thinking.
"Is there another inn at Stanton--fairly close to the station?"
"The 'Plough and Horses'--just at the corner where the road goes
up to the station--is that the one you mean?"
"That would be the one. I suppose you could do with a drink,
couldn't you?"
"Rather!" said Bill, with a grin.
"Good. Then have one at the 'Plough and Horses.' Have two, if
you like, and talk to the landlord, or landlady, or whoever
serves you. I want you to find out if anybody stayed there on
Monday night."
"Robert?" said Bill eagerly.
"I didn't say Robert," said Antony, smiling. "I just want you to
find out if they had a visitor who slept there on Monday night.
A stranger. If so, then any particulars you can get of him,
without letting the landlord know that you are interested--"
"Leave it to me," broke in Bill. "I know just what you want."
"Don't assume that it was Robert--or anybody else. Let them
describe the man to you. Don't influence them unconsciously by
suggesting that he was short or tall, or anything of that sort.
Just get them talking. If it's the landlord, you'd better stand
him a drink or two."
"Right you are," said Bill confidently. "Where do I meet you
again?"
"Probably at the 'George.' If you get there before me, you can
order dinner for eight o'clock. Anyhow we'll meet at eight, if
not before."
"Good." He nodded to Antony and strode off back to Stanton
again.
Antony stood watching him with a little smile at his enthusiasm.
Then he looked round slowly, as if in search of something.
Suddenly he saw what he wanted. Twenty yards farther on a lane
wandered off to the left, and there was a gate a little way up on
the right-hand side of it. Antony walked to the gate, filling
his pipe as he went. Then he lit his pipe, sat on the gate, and
took his head in his hands.
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