“There you are, gentlemen!” said Jamieson, turning to the little group of men in uniform, who, tremendously interested, had listened intently to all that Bessie had said. “You laughed at me–you insisted that the sort of thing I told you about wasn’t possible–that it simply couldn’t happen in this country, and in this time. What do you think now?”
“I guess it’s one on us,” said one of the officers, with a reluctant laugh. “But, really, Jamieson, you can’t blame us much, can you? It’s pretty incredible, even now.”
“I’m bothered about Trenwith, though,” said Charlie. “Something has gone wrong.”
“Miss Mercer is perfectly sure that he is in league with Mr. Holmes,” said Bessie. “Do you think that’s so, Mr. Jamieson?”
“I hope not,” said Charlie, soberly. “I’ve found out one thing lately though, Bessie;–that when there is money involved, you can never tell what is going to happen.”
“Did you know we were here–how did you fold out?”
“No questions just now! It’s time something was being done. Tell me, can you take me to this house, and show me how to get in!”
“Yes, I think I can find my way back through the woods.”
“No need of that,” said one of the officers. “There’s a road that leads right to that place. What’s Holmes doing there, anyhow? It isn’t his place. It belongs to some people who bought it a little while ago.”
“Yes, a Mr. and Mrs. Richards,” said Charlie. “But from what Bessie here says, he seems to be doing about as he likes with it. Well, I don’t want to waste any more time. Do you suppose I can see Colonel Hart!”