“Where to?”
“Well, sit down and I’ll tell you.” He rummaged among a pile of letters on his desk. “Fine selection of spooks!” he said. “I got on the track of over twenty by the first post. This is an easy winner, though. Read it for yourself. Lonely house, man driven mad, tenants boltin’ in the night, horrible spectre. Sounds all right—what!”
The clergyman read the letter with puckered brows. “It seems a bad case,” said he.
“Well, suppose you come along. What! Maybe you can help clear it up.”
The Rev. Mr. Mason pulled out a pocket-almanac. “I have a service for ex-Service men on Wednesday, and a lecture the same evening.”
“But we could start to-day.”
“It’s a long way.”
“Only Dorsetshire. Three hours.”
“What is your plan?”
“Well, I suppose a night in the house should do it.”