“Nay; there's no proof.”
“Ceptin' he's mad to get shut o' Th' Owd Un afore Cup Day.”
“Im or me—it mak's no differ. For a dog is disqualified from competing for the Trophy who has changed hands during the six months prior to the meeting. And this holds good though the change be only from father to son on the decease of the former.”
Jim looked up inquiringly at his companion.
“D'yo' think it'll coom to that?” he asked.
“What?”
“Why—murder.”
“Not if I can help it,” the other answered grimly.
The fog had cleared away by now, and the moon was up. To their right, on the crest of a rise some two hundred yards away, a low wood stood out black against the sky. As they passed it, a blackbird rose up screaming, and a brace of wood-pigeons winged noisily away.
“Hullo! hark to the yammerin'!” muttered Jim, stopping; “and at this time o' night too!”