"My dear Ruth." Stannard paused. "If I had that man against me in a criminal case, I'd think I had a walkover from the beginning and then suddenly discover I hadn't a leg to stand on. He's the craftiest old devil on earth. If he's here now, it means…"
Martin hurried to the nearer of the east windows and peered out sideways. He saw the crafty old devil almost at once. On the smooth lawn stood a tall stepladder, with a pair of pruning-shears near it. Beside it stood H.M. and a dour-faced man in overalls. H.M., glaring, was holding his band in the air to indicate a tomato-plant of improbable height. The dour-faced man shook his head with a fishy smile. H.M. levelled a finger at him in question. The dour-faced man still smiled fishily. Whereupon H.M. climbed nearly to the top of the stepladder, turned round, and indicated a tomato-plant of such height that it could have been credited only by a believer in Jack and the beanstalk.
But Martin saw something else. Towards their left was the gravel path, tree-shaded, leading to the front door. Up this path marched the Dowager Countess of Brayle.
Martin swung round and addressed Ricky. "Do you by any chance want peace and quiet in the house?"
"God knows I do," answered the harassed Ricky, who was still glancing at Stannard to remember where he had seen the man before. "It's all I do want Why?"
"Lady Brayle," Martin told him, "is coming up the path. Sir Henry is on the lawn."
"What about it?"
"Those two," said Martin, "act on each other like a lighted match in a box full of fireworks. Go out and grab 'em! Go out and bring 'em in here, where we can keep an eye on both! Quick! Hurry!"
Chapter 8
At one side of the broad leather-topped desk in the library stood H.M. At the other stood Lady Brayle.