“Oh, yes, you can tell what you know,” replied the doctor; and, satisfied with this concession, Macey rushed off.
As he reached the lane leading to the rectory, habit led him up it a few yards. Then recollecting himself, he was turning back when he caught sight of Distin and Gilmore coming toward him, and he waited till they came up.
“It’s all right,” he cried. “Vane knows all about it now, and he told me and the doctor who it is that he has to thank for the knocking about.”
“What! he knows?” cried Distin, eagerly; and Gilmore caught his companion’s arm.
“Yes,” he cried, catching Distin’s arm in turn, “come on with me.”
“Where to?” said Distin, starting.
“To the police—to old Bates.”
Distin gave Macey a curious look, and then walked on beside him, Macey repeating all he knew as they went along toward Bates’ cottage, where they found the constable looking singularly unofficial, for he was in his shirt-sleeves weeding his garden.
“Want me, gents?” he said with alacrity as he rose and looked from one to the other, his eyes resting longest upon Distin, as if he had some doubt about him that he could not clear up.