The speaker was not exactly stupid. He seemed to be rather dazed by a rapid surge of events. That was the way Nick regarded him, and doubtless he was right. He bent over and whispered in the man’s ear.
The result was a brightening up, and a much firmer tone of voice, as he said aloud:
“Of course, I’ll go with you, and I reckon I can find him, too. But you will have to keep these two men off me,” pointing to Powers and Lampton. “They feel that things are slipping away from them, and they will kill me if they have a chance.”
“That is quite probable,” muttered the detective inaudibly.
He led the cowed man out of the room, and saw that Patsy followed. He turned to his young assistant and told him not to let anybody out of the house till they returned.
Once in the open air, Nick’s companion seemed to become a different man. His step was springy, and when they came to a fence separating them from a part of the ground that was full of high grass and tangled shrubbery, he vaulted over it as lightly and cleanly as Nick himself. His voice was almost firm, as he said:
“I saw him looking over here as we came up the road, and once I heard him mutter something about the west meadow. He seemed to know that part of the estate, although I did not hear him say anything else.”
“The west meadow,” repeated Nick. “Yes, I think I know where that is.”
They walked for some little distance through the bushes and grass, until the detective stopped and pointed to what was evidently a recent trail.
“See! Somebody has walked through this high grass and made a deep, wide furrow. We shan’t have much trouble in finding him now, I think.”