"No go!" he said with a shrug, "I shall have to walk."
He rose from the ground, put up the tool he had been using, and buttoned up his coat. Then he asked Delane where he was going. Delane named a little village on the farther edge of the common.
"Oh, well, that's straight ahead. I turn off to the right," said the young soldier, "at the cross road."
They walked on together, Delane rather unwillingly submitting to the companionship thus sprung upon him. He saw from the badge on the man's shoulder that he belonged to one of the Canadian Forestry Corps in the district, and was at once on his guard. They started in silence, till Delane, pulling his mind back with a jerk, asked his companion if he was going to Ipscombe.
"No—only to Great End Farm."
Darkness hid the sudden change in Delane's countenance.
"You know some one there?"
"No, but I want to see one of the ladies about something. There's two of them running the farm. But Miss Henderson's the boss."
Cautiously, with assumed indifference, Delane began to ask questions.
He discovered that his companion's name was Dempsey; and before many minutes had passed the murderer's grandson was in the full swing of his story. Delane, despising the young man for a chattering fool, listened, nevertheless, with absorbed attention to every item of his tale. Presently Dempsey said with a laugh,—