“But if there’s no bridegroom to give her to?” debated old Coney.
“There may be. You must remain on the strength of it.”
The down train came up, and obeyed the signal to stop made by the station-master. The Squire, Tod, and Tom Coney got in, and it steamed on again.
“Now mind, I shall conduct this search,” the Squire said to the others with a frown. “You young fellows don’t know your right hand from your left in a business of this sort. We must go about it systematically, and find out the different places that Robert Ashton went to yesterday, and the people he saw.” Tod and Tom Coney told us this later.
When they arrived at Worcester, the first man they saw at Shrubb Hill Station was Harry Coles, who had been seeing somebody off by the train, which was rather curious; for his brother, Fred Coles, was Robert Ashton’s great chum, and was to be groom’s-man at the wedding. Harry Coles said his brother had met Ashton by appointment the previous day, and went with him to the Registrar’s office for the marriage licence—which was supplied to them by Mr. Clifton himself. After that, they went to the jeweller’s, and chose the wedding-ring.
“Well, what after that?” cried the impatient Squire.
Harry Coles did not know what. His brother had come back to their office early in the afternoon—about one o’clock—saying Ashton was going, or had gone, home.
“Can’t you tell which he said—going, or gone?” demanded the Squire, getting red.
“No, I can’t,” said Harry Coles. “I was busy with some estimates, and did not pay particular attention to him.”
“Then you ought to have paid it, sir,” retorted the Squire. “Your brother?—where is he?”