"Eh? Inspector?" demanded the colonel. "What inspector?"
"Your county official, under you. You are acquainted with a Mr. Septimus Depping?"
"Old Depping? Good Lord, yes. What about him? He lives in the Guest House on my property. He—"
"He has been murdered," said Hadley. They found him shot through the head this morning. Here's the telephone."
CHAPTER III
The Eight of Swords
For a moment the colonel only stared at him. His broad-checked sport suit looked wildly out of place in that dingy office. "Oh, look here—!" he protested. "Depping? Can't be Depping, demmit. Depping wouldn't get murdered. Lay you a fiver he'd never think of getting murdered. I say—"
Hadley pushed out a chair for him. Growling, the other stamped over to it and took up the telephone. He had the air of one who was determined to quash this nonsense at the beginning.
"Hallo, hallo, hallo… Eh? Murch? How are you? Oh, but I mean to say, what's all this rot?… But how do you know?"
A pause.