"I can tell you what he's doing," said Martin. "He told Arthur Puckston last night he'd been thinking for several days Grandmother ought to be ousted or made popular. He's trying to make her popular. And do you know what'll happen?"
Masters didn't care, and said so.
"She told me she'd come back with a riding-crop. And she will. Isn't that so, Jenny?"
"Darling," pleaded Jenny, "she tried to make friends with you. I told you she was beginning to like you, but you wouldn't believe me. I didn't see her last night, because she went straight on to Priory Hill. Surely she tried to make friends with you?"
"Possibly. Anyhow, h didn't work. Now shell come back with a riding-crop. She'll lay it, right and left, across anybody she sees. Then there'll be a riot and real trouble."
"I don’t doubt it at all," Masters agreed, almost with satisfaction.
Then he whacked his hand down on the arm of the chair.
"Mr. Drake," Masters said, "this is a murder case. We had everything planned and even timed to a minute to catch the murderer. But Sir Henry's gone off his rocker, just as he did once at Coney Island, and what chance have we got now?"
'To catch—?" Jenny's face had gone even whiter. "But it couldn't possibly be.. anybody we know?"
Belatedly, Masters remembered official caution and his usual manner.