'How did you find the way here in the first place?' Denis demanded. 'You didn't know the neighbourhood, did you?'
'Oh, I thought I'd told you that I came down one Saturday, ages ago, and nosed around and prospected and so forth. Mind you, I didn't tell the Superintendent that. It wouldn't do to let him think I knew the countryside before I got let in for this business.'
'I see. Do we cross this little bridge?'
'We do, and follow the path to the right.'
They did this, and watched the sunshine and shadow on the stream before going on again. After a bit they came upon a gate which led into an enclosure. Denis indicated the gate.
'Can we go this way?'
'I suppose so, although I never have. It's only on a latch, so it's all right, so long as we shut it after us. Looks as though the foresters have been busy.'
The inviting path on the other side of the gate was broad and clearly marked, and bore the imprint, here and there, where the ground was soft, of car tyres and caterpillar wheels. Denis produced a magnifying glass and studied the imprints with exaggerated thoroughness.
'No hoof-prints,' he observed. They walked on again, past the grey, smooth trunks of a couple of felled beeches on the right-hand side of the path, and a magnificent Scots pine, prone across the bracken, on the left. The path mounted gradually. Suddenly Denis, who was in the lead, stopped short. 'I'm going back,' he said. A gaggle of geese, eight in all, had formed a line across the path, which led straight into a farmyard. 'Geese horrify me. I'd rather face a pride of lions.'
'There's a dog, too,' said Richardson, in practical tones. 'Besides, about geese I really do agree. I told you I'd never been this way, and now you see that my instinct was sound.'
They retraced their steps and again followed the path beside the water. It narrowed and grew lumpy and then muddy. Then it turned almost at right-angles on to a miry track with led across the gravelled road and on to the open heath. Richardson pointed out the big house from which he had tried to telephone.
'You don't think there's anything suspicious in the circumstance that the owner of the house happened to be away on the very day you discovered a dead man in your tent?' Denis suggested.
'Oh, I hardly imagine so. Just a coincidence, I would say. And I certainly don't attach any importance to the fact that the maid wouldn't let me use the telephone. For all she knew, it might have been an impudent attempt on my part to get into the house with burglarious intentions. Besides, women-servants always think somebody is determined to murder them in their beds, although why in their beds I can't think. One would suppose the last thing to do on their part would be to stay in bed if a homicidal maniac was loose about the place. Personally, I should want to be up and about, preferably with my shoes on.'
'Yes, it's odd how helpless one feels with bare feet if there's any rough stuff going-Judo excepted, of course. Where do we go from here?'
'We follow the main track as far as those gorse bushes and then branch off on to a kind of secondary track which pretty well follows the flow of the river.'
Pursuing this course, they soon came upon the former site of Richardson's camp. It was marked by two young oak trees, about fifteen yards apart, which formed a landmark against the surrounding gorse and some low-growing thorn trees. More gorse and bracken screened the little clearing from the main track, but Richardson, who had chosen the spot because, besides being easily identifiable, it was secluded, now looked upon it with a different eye. He indicated the gorse and said,
'Somebody could have lain up hidden and watched my movements. I'd never have known he was there.'
Denis did not answer. He searched all the tiny paths which ran among the gorse. Richardson strolled over in the opposite direction, that in which the river, shallow at this point, ran with a quietly insistent murmur over the stones. Denis soon joined him. When they were together again, Richardson remarked,
'You know, it occurs to me that it would have been frightfully easy to have brought the body across the river from the other side. Come and see.'
He led the way to where a loop in the stream had laid bare two spits of gravel. They were not opposite one another, but lay in a long slant with perhaps twelve yards of very shallow water between them. Denis looked long and thoughtfully at this possible ford.
'I don't know about that,' he said. 'Could be, I suppose. Let's see how the road runs.'
They made their way along the secondary track until it joined the main one. Then, following this until it met the gravelled road, they turned to the left and crossed the bridge.
'This will be it,' said Richardson. They stepped on to rough grass and found themselves among trees. There was no marked path, but the trees, mostly pines, were not very close together and it was easy enough to follow the course of the stream. It was at this point that the hotel collie manifested himself and joined them.
'Damn that dog!' said Richardson. He stooped and fondled the collie. It bounded along, barking joyously.
'Yes, you're right,' said Denis. 'How big and heavy was this chap you saw? Colnbrook, I mean.'
'Oh, I really don't know! You don't go trying to judge height and weight when you find a dead man in your tent! All I remember about Colnbrook is that he was about my height and seemed fairly chunky. Why?'
'Oh, well, I was only wondering-if he was murdered, I mean-whether it was the work of only one person. Still, I suppose the police will establish that. Of course, I'm hoping it was accidental, or that he was taken ill. Where do we go now?'
'Well, it's all a bit circumscribed, really, for all that it looks a vast expanse. You'd think that wood over on the far side would lead somewhere, but, actually, it peters out on this side of the stream. There's almost a right-angle bend.'
'Let's have a look, anyway,' said Denis.
'You know,' said Richardson, as they left the stream and took a broad track marked heavily by caterpillar wheels, car tyres and hoof-prints which led over the heath to the wood, 'I do so wish I'd told the police I'd met Colnbrook before. It'll be absolutely ruinous for me if it comes out now-that is, if the death wasn't accidental.'
'Oh, the police aren't going to worry too much about that,' said Denis easily. 'They understand panic. Besides, as we learned in our youth, the best way to get out of difficulties is to tell a lie, a good lie, and stick to it. You only had an electric torch, remember, and you certainly weren't expecting to find a dead man in your tent. How well did you know this blighter, anyway? I know you met him again after you socked him on that cross-country run. You remember telling me about that?'
'I've never seen or heard of him since, until this wretched business, except for the railway station episode.'
'Then, if you'll pardon my bluntness of speech, what the hell are you worrying about? Those incidental manifestations of the sporting spirit are two a penny. If he had murdered you, it might have been a bit different, although, I think, not very much. Your socking him could have supplied him with the shadow of a motive, I suppose. But, in the case under review, having put it across him for criticising your birth and breeding, you'd satisfied your ego and had no more use for vengeance, and he responded by landing you with that girl. My advice is to see the facts clearly and see them whole, and then, for God's sake, to forget all about them.'
There was a silence as they tramped onwards towards the woods. It lasted a full two minutes. Then Richardson said, 'Thanks. That clears the air.' He sounded doubtful, however.
'Look here, why have you got it so firmly into your bean that he was murdered?' demanded Denis. 'You didn't notice any injury?'