Long and eagerly they discussed the matter, and at length a plan was evolved.
The next morning brought them a visit from Inspector Buckman, one of the ablest men of the Special Branch at Scotland Yard, to whom, utterly baffled, the police had very wisely applied for help. He was well known to all of them as a keen, capable man of infinite resource and undaunted courage.
Buckman listened closely while Dick ran over the story, putting in a keen question here and there.
“We have got to keep the real facts quiet,” he said at length. “Erckmann must not suspect that we have the smallest inkling of the evidence of Lord Renstoke’s death. I will fix that up with the coroner.”
It was an easy matter. Renstoke Castle was a remote spot, and while the affair, of course, could not be entirely concealed, it was a simple matter to keep the exact details secret. All the public learned was that Lord Renstoke had been attacked and murdered presumably by a burglar for whom a close search was being made.
But behind all and working in secret the keen brains of Dick, Yvette, Jules, and Buckman were busy.
Two or three nights later the word went round to the scattered farms that every single head of stock was to be driven in to the farms and rigidly confined in the buildings from dusk to daybreak. So far as they could ensure it not a single living thing was at large.
Dick’s trap was arranged on the hill-side a mile from Renstoke.
Four inches above the ground, in a circle fifty yards in diameter, ran a thin electric wire supported at intervals on small insulated posts. Just inside the circle, on the side away from Renstoke, a sheep was tethered to a strong stake. In the centre of the circle from a tall pole hung a powerful magnesium flash, electrically connected so that it would be at once exploded by any pressure on the encircling wire, and momentarily light up with day-time brilliance a large patch of the surrounding country.
As dusk fell, Dick, Yvette, Jules, and Buckman carefully crossed the wire and took up their positions in the centre of the circle, lying full length in the sheltering heather, and each with a revolver ready to hand. In a leash beside Dick lay Spot, his favourite Airedale, who could be trusted to give warning of the approach of any intruder, and afterwards to track him remorselessly.