But where?
CHAPTER XCIV.
THE COINER AND THE SPY—A REGULAR DUST-UP, AND WHAT CAME OF IT—THE CHASE—AN ODD ESCAPE—HUNTING IN THE HAY—A ROUGH CUSTOMER DONE FOR.
When Lenoir had puzzled himself for some time over the mysterious disappearance of Herbert Murray, he made a discovery.
The window was open, a circumstance which he had until then, in the most unaccountable manner imaginable, overlooked.
But when he got to the window and looked out, there were no signs of the object of his search.
He had followed so sharply that Murray could not have had time to get off.
He looked up and down the road eagerly.
The only thing in sight was a wagon-load of hay drawn by a team of horses, at whose head plodded a waggoner in a blue cotton blouse, whip in hand.
"Hé, la-bas!" shouted the coiner from the window.