red at one another. Then--

"Better go in," said Orphan, with his hand on the latch.

This yielded to pressure, and the next moment the door was open.

The atmosphere prevailing in the little chamber was uninviting. There
was a fire glowing upon the hearth, and the room was unpleasantly hot.
From the reek of a pungent tobacco emerged an unsavoury smell of
something which was not fuel, burning. Scattered about the red-brick
floor were black feathers without number, and here and there amid the
plumage appeared the muddy print of feet. Perched upon the logs was a
pot bubbling, and by the side of the hearth an old pair of boots
emitted wisps of steam. Lyveden himself was nowhere to be seen.

Plowman looked round wide-eyed, and Orphan blew disgustedly through his
nose.

The former raised his voice.

"Major Lyveden," he called, smiling, "may I come in?"

There was no answer.

The two conferred in a whisper. Then Plowman cleared his throat.

"Major Lyveden!" he called. "It's Plowman speaking--Plowman, of
Girdle. Can you spare me a moment?"

Still no reply was vouchsafed.

Followed by the other, Orphan advanced into the room and looked behind
the door. There was no one there.

He stepped to the foot of the flight of stairs and spoke upward.

"Is Major Lyveden there?"

For a moment it seemed as if he, too, was to go unanswered. Then--

"Nao," said a voice thickly, "'e ain't. 'E's gorn aout, 'e 'as. An'
won' be beck till ter-morrer."

Orphan looked sharply at Plowman. The latter shook his head, frowning,
as if in denial, and lifted his voice.

"Who's that?" he snapped.

Somebody was heard to swallow. Then--

"I tell yer 'e ain't 'ere," said the voice. "'E's--'e's gorn aout."

"Who has?" said Orphan.

"Majer"--the speaker hesitated--"Major Dibdin."

The hesitancy alone would have proclaimed the impostor, and, while
Plowman ran for the others, Orphan told the occupant of the bedroom,
first that he was an infernal liar, secondly that he was being
addressed by a magistrate, and thirdly that, unless he desired to be
given into custody for stealing poultry and housebreaking, he had
better descend forthwith and tell the whole truth.

As the Judge and Blithe came up, with Plowman behind them, Orphan
stepped backwards out of the doorway.

"Come on," he said roughly. "Out in the air."

Barefoot, of his trepidation still grasping the carcass of what had
been a black Orpington, there emerged fr