dly genuine. My heart went
into my boots, and my first impulse was to apologize and clear out.
But I told myself I must see it through, even though I was to be the
laughing-stock of Britain. The light from the dinner-table
candlesticks was not very good, and to cover my confusion I got up,
walked to the door and switched on the electric light. The sudden
glare made them blink, and I stood scanning the three faces.

Well, I made nothing of it. One was old and bald, one was stout, one
was dark and thin. There was nothing in their appearance to prevent
them being the three who had hunted me in Scotland, but there was
nothing to identify them. I simply can't explain why I who, as a
roadman, had looked into two pairs of eyes, and as Ned Ainslie into
another pair, why I, who have a good memory and reasonable powers of
observation, could find no satisfaction. They seemed exactly what they
professed to be, and I could not have sworn to one of them.

There in that pleasant dining-room, with etchings on the walls, and a
picture of an old lady in a bib above the mantelpiece, I could see
nothing to connect them with the moorland desperadoes. There was a
silver cigarette-box beside me, and I saw that it had been won by
Percival Appleton, Esq., of the St Bede's Club, in a golf tournament.
I had to keep a firm hold of Peter Pienaar to prevent myself bolting
out of that house.

'Well,' said the old man politely, 'are you reassured by your scrutiny,
Sir?'

I couldn't find a word.

'I hope you'll find it consistent with your duty to drop this
ridiculous business. I make no complaint, but you'll see how annoying
it must be to respectable people.'

I shook my head.

'O Lord,' said the young man. 'This is a bit too thick!'

'Do you propose to march us off to the police station?' asked the plump
one. 'That might be the best way out of it, but I suppose you won't be
content with the local branch. I have the right to ask to see your
warrant, but I don't wish to cast any aspersions upon you. You are
only doing your duty. But you'll admit it's horribly awkward. What do
you propose to do?'

There was nothing to do except to call in my men and have them
arrested, or to confess my blunder and clear out. I felt mesmerized by
the whole place, by the air of obvious innocence--not innocence merely,
but frank honest bewilderment and concern in the three faces.

'Oh, Peter Pienaar,' I groaned inwardly, and for a moment I was