“My brother,” put in John.
“Yes; we know now. But conceive the barrier thus placed in our path when the dates of the two events were compared long afterwards.”
The farmer looked puzzled. The solicitor went on:
“Of course, you wonder why there should have been any delay, but the Coroner’s notes were lost in a fire. Nevertheless, we advertised in dozens of newspapers.”
“We hardly ever see a paper, sir,” said Martha.
“Yet, the wonder is that some of your friends did not see it and tell you. Finally, a sharp-witted clerk of ours solved the Highgate Cemetery mystery, and the advertisements were repeated. Colonel Grant was back in India by that time trying hard to leave his bones there, by all accounts, and perhaps we did not spend as much money on this second quest as if he were at home to authorize the expenditure.”
“When was that, sir—t’ second lot o’ advertisements, I mean?” asked John.
“Quite a year after Mrs. Grant’s death.”
Bolland stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“I remember,” he said, “a man at Malton fair sayin’ summat aboot an inquiry for me. But yan o’ t’ hands rode twenty miles across counthry te tell me that Martin had gotten t’ measles, an’ I kem yam that neet.”