"Why do you go? Can't you make some excuse?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "What's the use? It only means they'll try some other way. At least I know what to expect this afternoon."
"Yes, there's that," said Billy. "Look here, I've got an idea. Suppose I get hold of a boat and cruise around outside the sea wall while you're shooting. I might be of use some way or another—one never knows."
"Right you are, Billy," I said. "There's nothing like having command of the sea." Then I looked at my watch. "I ought to be trotting back," I added; "it's just on nine. I'll let you know about meeting you to-morrow, if we don't run across each other this afternoon. We're due down on the marsh about half-past five, I think."
"Well, be careful, old son," said Billy, gripping my hand. "By the way, have you heard anything about Milford?"
I shook my head. "I left my address with the cook, and told her to write if he turned up; but there was nothing from her this morning. It beats me altogether. I could understand their trying to shift him in order to plant 'Francis' on me; but after that little business failed, what on earth could their game be?"
"Lord knows," said Billy. "But they've got him, evidently. Perhaps he was more in with Northcote than we think. Anyhow, it's no use worrying. Keep your eyes skinned this afternoon, and give me a hail if there's any trouble."
He went off up the road, and, after waiting for a minute until he had rounded the corner, I set off back to the house.
As I came across the garden, I saw Maurice and York standing outside, on the terrace.
"Hullo!" cried the latter, "you've beaten us all. I thought I was down first."