"All you've got to do," he said reassuringly to Betty, "is to hold on to this second rope and let me down, gradual-like. When I say 'Pull,' draw up—I'll help, hand over hand, up this first rope. Simple enough!—and I shan't go too far."
Nevertheless, he exhausted the full length of both ropes, and it seemed a long time before they heard anything of him. Betty, frightened of what she might hear, fearful lest Neale should go too near the edge of the shaft, began to get nervous at the delay, and it was with a great sense of relief that she at last heard the signal.
The tinker came hand over hand up the stationary rope, helped by the second one: his face, appearing over the edge of the gap, was grave and at first inscrutable. He shook himself when he stepped above ground, as if he wanted to shake off an impression: then he turned and spoke in a whisper.
"It's as I thought it might be!" he said. "There's a dead man down there!"
CHAPTER XVII
ACCIDENT OR MURDER?
Betty checked the cry of horror which instinctively started to her lips, and turned to Neale with a look which he was quick to interpret. He moved nearer to the tinker, who was unwinding the rope from his waist.
"You couldn't tell—what man?" he asked, in low tones.
Creasy shook his head with a look of dislike for what he had seen by the light of his lantern.