"It's hard to know which line to take," said the colonel, frowning worriedly. "There is no data, you see. Nothing to go on."
Up went Mr. Amberley's black brows, but he said nothing.
"We have a man shot on a deserted road. No sign of struggle. No apparent motive, unless it be robbery. The locality seems to rule out the bandit theory, though one can't, of course, entirely set that aside."
"Do you think you could try?" asked Amberley wearily. "I've no objection to Fraser looking about for a likely bandit; it ought to occupy his time very nicely. But I'm getting a little tired of hearing that singularly foolish theory. Dawson was not murdered by road-bandits."
"That is my own belief," said the colonel, keeping his end up. "The locality alone…'
"Yes, I've grasped that, Colonel. What you don't appear to have grasped is the considerable amount of data at your disposal."
"I think I have all the facts," said the colonel stiffly.
"I know you have," said Mr. Amberley. "I gave 'em to you in my original statement. They were refreshingly significant."
"As for instance - ?"
Mr. Amberley sat down on the edge of the table in the window. "I'll recapitulate, Colonel. By the way, it was a premeditated murder, you know."