Demaine did not hear his cousin’s reply.
“Are you sure he’s been on the premises, sir?” came from the first policeman, whom I will call “Basso Profondo.”
“Positive,” answered William Bailey’s voice, cheerful and loud. “Positive!”
“Did you see him with your own eyes, sir?” this from the second policeman, whom I will call “Tenore Stridente.”
“Certainly I did, or I wouldn’t be telling you this,” came again from William Bailey a little testily.
“Well now, sir, we’ve suspicions that he’s on the place still.”
“You’re wrong there,” said William Bailey, “he ran off down the Parham road when he heard my dog bark.”
“We didn’t meet any one on the Parham road, sir:” it was the voice of the Tenore policeman who spoke, evidently a less ingenuous man than the Basso.
“I can’t help that,” said William Bailey. “You’re welcome to look over the house.”
They thanked him and walked in like an army.