“Humph! Started four minutes after we did. It all fits in, doesn’t it? But there’s one thing that really is worrying me badly.”
“What’s that?”
They scrambled through the undergrowth and headed for the house once more. Roger turned impressively to Alec.
“Did he or did he not hear what we were saying outside that window? And if he did, how much?”
CHAPTER XIV.
Dirty Work at the Ash Pit
The ash pit proved easy to locate. It lay among some outhouses and was surrounded on three sides by mellow old red-brick walls, the space within which was filled with a depressed-looking mass of rotting vegetable matter, old paper, and tins. The smell that hung heavily about it was not a nice one.
“Have we got to search that?” Alec asked, eyeing the view with considerable disfavour.
“We have,” Roger returned, and plunged happily into the smell. “Can’t expect to get through a job like ours without a certain amount of dirty work, you know.”
“Personally, I prefer my dirty work at the crossroads,” Alec murmured, following his intrepid leader with the greatest reluctance. “They’re cleaner. Dirty work at the ash pit doesn’t seem to appeal to me in the least.” He began gingerly to handle the cleanest pieces of paper he could see, which happened to be old newspapers.
Roger was rooting contentedly among a heap of scraps and shreds in the middle. “These on the top seem to be yesterday’s collection all right,” he announced. “Yes, here’s the envelope from a letter of mine that came by the first post. Hum! Nothing in this lot, as far as I can see.”