And then they both were silent, both conscious at the same moment that they were close to the spot where the body of Jem Stickels had been found on the previous night. Both uncle and niece looked furtively at the spot, easily discernible by the trodden-down condition of the wayside grass. And then, quite suddenly, their furtive glances sought each other’s face, and for a moment their eyes met.
“Uncle,” asked Nell, in a whisper, “was the gun that fired the bullet found?”
George Claris shook his head in answer.
This, indeed, was the chief difficulty with which the local police, put on their mettle by the presence in their midst of Hemming, the London detective, had to contend.
The bullet found in the head of Jem Stickels had evidently been fired from an old-fashioned weapon, being of large size and of obsolete pattern. And no weapon had been found in the neighborhood, after a diligent and exhaustive search. The theory of the doctors was that the bullet had been discharged from a pistol at a distance of at least some yards; but at present this theory had borne no fruit except in the brain of the detective, Hemming.
That astute person had been revolving in his mind an idea, which he took care to keep to himself, and which led him, within an hour of the conclusion of the inquest, in the direction of Shingle End.
Where would Nell be so likely to find a weapon with which to commit the crime which freed her from her fear of Jem Stickels as at the house of an old soldier? Somewhere about the house, and probably in a place with which she, an habitué of the house, was well acquainted, the old colonel would be sure to keep some mementos of his soldiering days, an inspection of which Hemming felt was very likely to give him the clue he wanted.
It was, as usual, Miss Bostal who opened the door to him. Her prim face seemed to light up on seeing who it was.
“Come in, do come in,” said she, throwing the door wide open, and inviting him to enter the drawing-room. “I do hope you have got some more news for us. Do you know I hope more from what you will find out than from all these country policemen! If they were to sit and talk till mid-summer, I don’t believe they would be any nearer to finding out who did it than they are now.”
The detective smiled.