“Oh, yes. He started a long leave on February 20th—his battalion is in Ireland, you know—and is straightway lost. But as to where he is—”
“His sister will know.”
“She says she doesn’t.”
“Did Miss Clevedon tell you that herself?”
“Well, no, not directly. It was old Parfitter, the family lawyer, who dropped a hint, so to speak. ‘Sir William Clevedon ought to be home looking after this business and helping to clear up the mess,’ I said to him. The old chap wagged his head mysteriously. ‘Aye,’ he replied, ‘he’ll be Sir William now, of course—yes.’ I hazarded the opinion that his long-delayed appearance was breeding rumours. ‘For his own sake he should come,’ I said. The old fossil took the alarm at once. ‘Rumours? he asked sharply. What rumours?’ He glared at me as if I were in some way responsible. ‘Oh, nothing definite,’ I said, ‘just rumours, mere talk.’ And then he opened out and let go, said he would like to ask my advice and so on. In short, they didn’t know where Billy Clevedon was, none of them knew, not even his sister. And there it is. He will turn up in good time—if he hasn’t some reason for stopping away. The question is, has he?”
“Has he what?” I demanded.
“A good reason for stopping away.”
That was precisely the point at which I had arrived myself.
CHAPTER XVI
THE MYSTERY OF BILLY CLEVEDON
“Tell me,” I went on, “all you know about young Clevedon. His continued absence is certainly interesting.”