ember a case in which a chestnut
in a man's pocket sent him to penal servitude. There was absolutely no
evidence against him, except a possible motive, until that chestnut was
found and proved to be one of a particular species, grown only in a
certain locality."

"How fortunate that the Dorothy Perkins is popular!" laughed Grant. "Will
your paper publish photographs of the principals in this affair?"

"I expect so. I've a fine collection--the jury, all in a row--and you,
making that speech to the mob."

"Oh! Will that appear?"

"By Jove, yes, sir. It was wired off before the inquest opened."

Grant reddened slightly. His own impetuous action had blurted out to the
whole world that which Steynholme was only thinking. No wonder Furneaux
had warned him to go slow. Perhaps the little man was annoyed because of
his challenge to the village crowd? Well, be it so. He meant, and would
live up to, every word of it!

The afternoon dragged after the pressman's departure. What Grant really
hungered for was a heart-to-heart talk between Doris Martin and himself.
But, short of a foolish attempt to carry the post office by storm, he saw
no means of realizing his desire. He must, perforce, await the less
troubled hours of the morrow or next day. Doris would surely give her
father an exact account of the conversation between Grant, Furneaux, and
herself that morning, and that greatly perplexed man could hardly fail to
see how unjust was the tittle-tattle of the village.

So, avoiding Mrs. Bates, whose fell intent it was to ask him what he
wanted for dinner, he struck off along the road to Knoleworth, walked
eight miles in two hours, and reached The Hollies about seven o'clock,
rather inclined for a meal and much more contented with life.

Minnie announced that a gentleman "who brought a bag" had been awaiting
him since half-past five, and was now asleep on the lawn! A glance at the
aforesaid bag, still reposing in the entrance hall, sent Grant quickly
into the garden. A long, broad-shouldered person was stretched on a
wicker chair, and evidently enjoying a nap. A huge meerschaum pipe and
tobacco pouch lay on the grass. The newcomer's face was covered by a
broad-brimmed, decidedly weather-beaten slouch hat, which, legend had it,
was purchased originally in South America in the early nineties, and had
won fame as the only one of its kind ever worn in the Strand.

"Hullo! Wally! Glad to see you!" shouted Grant joyously.

The sle