against human beings.

"I will give you a chance," he said. "Remember it is nothing more.
Follow me!"

He led the way to the slate pit.

"Can you swim?" he asked.

"Yes!" the man answered.

"This is where I take my morning bath," Macheson said. "You will see
that though you can scramble down and dive in, it is too precipitous to
get out. Therefore, I have fixed up a rope on the other side--it goes
through those bushes, and is attached to the trunk of a tree beneath the
bracken. If you swim across, you can pull yourself out of the water and
hide just above the water in the bushes. There is just a chance that you
may escape observation."

Already he was on his way down, but Macheson stopped him.

"I shall leave a suit of dry clothes in the shelter," he said. "If they
should give up the chase you are welcome to them. Now you had better
dive. They are in the spinney."

The man went in, after the fashion of a practised diver. Macheson turned
round and retraced his steps towards his temporary dwelling-house.

CHAPTER XII

RETREAT

Out in the lane a motley little group of men were standing. Stephen Hurd
was in the act of springing off his brown cob. The dogs were already in
the shelter.

"What the devil are you doing here?" Hurd asked, as Macheson strode
through the undergrowth.

Macheson pointed to the shelter.

"I could find no other lodging," he answered, "thanks to circumstances
of which you are aware."

Stephen Hurd kicked the gate open. He was pale and there were deep lines
under his eyes. He was still in his evening clothes, except for a rough
tweed coat, but his white tie was hanging loose, and his patent-leather
shoes were splashed with mud.

"We are chasing a man," he said. "Have you seen him?"

"I have," Macheson answered. "What has he done?"

There was a momentary silence. Hurd spoke with a sob.

"Murdered--my father!"

Macheson was shocked.

"You mean--that Mr. Hurd is dead?" he asked, in an awe-stricken tone.

"Dead!" the young man answered with a sob. "Killed in his chair!"

The dogs came out of the shelter. They turned towards the interior of
the spinney. The little crowd came streaming through the gate.

"I gave shelter to a man who admitted that he was in trouble," he said
gravely. "He heard the dogs and he was terrified. He has jumped into the
slate quarry."

The dogs were on the trail now. They followed them to the edge of the
quarry. Here the bushes were trodden d