“Sergeant Butler,” he called.
The sergeant came forward from the hall, carrying a cricket bag. This Inspector Aylesbury took from him, placing it upon the floor of the library at his feet.
“New, sir,” said he, “I borrowed this bag in which to bring the evidence away—the hanging evidence which I discovered beneath the floor of the hut.”
I had turned again, when the man had referred to his discovery; and now, glancing at Harley, I saw that his face had grown suddenly very stern.
“Show me your evidence, Inspector?” he asked, shortly.
“There can be no objection,” returned the Inspector.
Opening the bag, he took out a rifle!
Paul Harley’s hands were thrust in his coat pockets, By the movement of the cloth I could see that he had clenched his fists. Here was confirmation of my theory!
“A Service rifle,” said the Inspector, triumphantly, holding up the weapon. “A Lee-Enfield charger-loader. It contains four cartridges, three undischarged, and one discharged. He had not even troubled to eject it.”
The Inspector dropped the weapon into the bag with a dramatic movement.