"I know of nothing."
"You'd better come along up to Greystones with me. I'm going to have a look for that blunt weapon myself." "It's not there."
"That's what you think: What's all this I was hearing from the Superintendent about young Neville producing a hopeful-looking paper-weight?"
Glass's brow darkened. "They that are of froward heart are an abomination to the Lord," he said coldly. "Neville Fletcher walks in vanity. He is of no account."
"What do you know about him?" inquired the Sergeant. "Anything, or nothing?"
"I think him an irreligious man, who despises the Word. But I know no other ill of him."
"What about the Norths?"
"He is said to be an upright man, and such I believe him to be. She speaks with a lying tongue, but she did not strike the blow that killed Ernest Fletcher."
"No, not unless she did it with a sledge-hammer," agreed the Sergeant. "It's my belief that when we find him Charlie Carpenter is going to tell us who killed Fletcher. You heard about him, didn't you?"
"I heard, but I did not understand. What is known of this Carpenter?"