n himself, I--"

"What did the milkman say and do?" I said, with inexorable sternness.

"Well, to tell the truth," said Rupert, shifting restlessly from
one foot to another, "the milkman himself, as far as merely physical
appearances went, just said, 'Milk, Miss,' and handed in the can. That
is not to say, of course, that he did not make some secret sign or
some--"

I broke into a violent laugh. "You idiot," I said, "why don't you own
yourself wrong and have done with it? Why should he have made a secret
sign any more than any one else? You own he said nothing and did nothing
worth mentioning. You own that, don't you?"

His face grew grave.

"Well, since you ask me, I must admit that I do. It is possible that
the milkman did not betray himself. It is even possible that I was wrong
about him."

"Then come along with you," I said, with a certain amicable anger, "and
remember that you owe me half a crown."

"As to that, I differ from you," said Rupert coolly. "The milkman's
remarks may have been quite innocent. Even the milkman may have been.
But I do not owe you half a crown. For the terms of the bet were, I
think, as follows, as I propounded them, that wherever that milkman came
to a real stop I should find out something curious."

"Well?" I said.

"Well," he answered, "I jolly well have. You just come with me," and
before I could speak he had turned tail once more and whisked through
the blue dark into the moat or basement of the house. I followed almost
before I made any decision.

When we got down into the area I felt indescribably foolish literally,
as the saying is, in a hole. There was nothing but a closed door,
shuttered windows, the steps down which we had come, the ridiculous
well in which I found myself, and the ridiculous man who had brought me
there, and who stood there with dancing eyes. I was just about to turn
back when Rupert caught me by the elbow.

"Just listen to that," he said, and keeping my coat gripped in his right
hand, he rapped with the knuckles of his left on the shutters of the
basement window. His air was so definite that I paused and even inclined
my head for a moment towards it. From inside was coming the murmur of an
unmistakable human voice.

"Have you been talking to somebody inside?" I asked suddenly, turning to
Rupert.

"No, I haven't," he replied, with a grim smile, "but I should very much
like to. Do you know what somebody is saying in there?"

"No, of course not,"