eminded Colwyn of the way in which he had
snubbed Sir Henry Durwood in his bedroom at the Durrington hotel three
mornings before. But it was in his previous indifferent tone that the
young man added: "Have either of you a spirit flask?"

Police Constable Queensmead eyed his captive with the critical eye of an
officer of justice upon whom devolved the responsibility of bringing his
man fit and well to trial. Ronald's face had gone haggard and white, and
he lurched a little in his walk. Then he stood still, and regarded the
two men weakly.

"I'm about done up," he admitted.

"We'd better take him to the inn and get him some brandy," said
Queensmead. "Take his other arm, will you?"

They returned slowly with Ronald between them. He did not ask where they
were taking him, but stumbled along on their supporting arms like a man
in a dream, with his eyes fixed on the ground. When clear of the wood,
Queensmead led his prisoner past the pit where Mr. Glenthorpe's body had
been cast, but Ronald did not even glance at the yawning hole alongside
of him. It was when they were descending the slope towards the inn that
Colwyn noticed a change in his indifferent demeanour. He raised his
head and surveyed the inn with sombre eyes, and then his glance
travelled swiftly to his pinioned hands. For a moment his frame
stiffened slightly, as though he were about to resist being taken
farther. But if that were his intention the mood passed. The next moment
he was walking along with his previous indifference.

When they reached the inn Queensmead asked Colwyn in a whisper to keep
an eye on the prisoner while he went inside and got the brandy. As soon
as he had gone Colwyn turned to Ronald and earnestly said:

"You may not know me, apart from our chance meeting at Durrington, but I
am anxious to help you, if you are innocent."

"I have heard of you. You are Colwyn, the private detective."

"That makes it easier then, for you will know that I have no object in
this case except to bring the truth to light. If you have anything to
say that will help me to do that I beg of you to do so. You may safely
trust me."

"I know that, Mr. Colwyn, but I have nothing to say." Ronald spoke
wearily--almost indifferently.

"Nothing?" Astonishment and disappointment were mingled in the
detective's voice.

"Nothing."

Before anything more could be said Queensmead reappeared from the inn
with some brandy in a glass. Ronald raised it to his lips with