For a moment nobody spoke; then the landlord, who was breathing heavily, stepped forward and touched his cap.
"Beg pardon, Mr. Dryden," he said huskily, "but this is Sergeant 'Umphries of Torrington. He wants to have a word with you."
"Why, certainly," I replied. "Come inside, both of you."
I moved back, and, mounting the verandah, they tramped in heavily over the threshold.
"I expect you know Commander Dean," I added, "at all events by sight."
There was an exchange of salutes, followed once more by an embarrassing silence.
"Well," I said encouragingly, "what is it? Anything I can do for you?"
Sergeant Humphries cleared his throat
"I'm afraid I come on rather an unpleasant business, Mr. Dryden," he began. "I believe you have a man in your employment name of John Bascombe?"
A sudden feeling of impending tragedy tightened round my heart.