He had assumed the rôle of examiner then, and he was watching the two men as keenly as they had watched him. The Chief Constable hesitated.
“I should prefer that you tell us what you did with the pistol,” he began. “I think——”
“And I prefer that you tell me whom you suspect of using it on my brother,” declared Harry. “Whatever you prefer, I’m not going to say anything that may incriminate perfectly innocent people! That’s flat—and final, too!”
The Chief Constable looked at Blick. And Blick, who was beginning to size matters up, nodded.
“Tell him!” he murmured.
“Very well, Mr. Markenmore,” said the Chief Constable. “I’ll take the lead. We believe there is ground of suspicion against Mrs. Braxfield. We have found out that for some time she has been in the habit of firing an automatic pistol near a spinney on the edge of Markenmore Hollow in order to frighten foxes away from her chickens, and that she has often been seen there at very early hours of the morning. Now, Mr. Markenmore, is yours the pistol she used?”
“What does Mrs. Braxfield herself say?” asked Harry quietly.
“Mrs. Braxfield refuses to say anything,” answered the Chief Constable, “except that she admits firing at the foxes sometimes, at the times and place I’ve mentioned. And the result is that we’ve been obliged to take her off to Selcaster, pending enquiries——”
Harry Markenmore’s face suddenly became dark with anger.
“What!” he exclaimed. “You’ve—arrested her?”