“Have you heard anything of the case?” he asked.

“Not a word.  I have not seen a paper for some days.”

“The London press has not had very full accounts.  I have just been looking through all the recent papers in order to master the particulars.  It seems, from what I gather, to be one of those simple cases which are so extremely difficult.”

“That sounds a little paradoxical.”

“But it is profoundly true.  Singularity is almost invariably a clue.  The more featureless and commonplace a crime is, the more difficult it is to bring it home.  In this case, however, they have established a very serious case against the son of the murdered man.”

“It is a murder, then?”

“Well, it is conjectured to be so.  I shall take nothing for granted until I have the opportunity of looking personally into it.  I will explain the state of things to you, as far as I have been able to understand it, in a very few words.

“Boscombe Valley is a country district not very far from Ross, in Herefordshire.  The largest landed proprietor in that part is a Mr. John Turner, who made his money in Australia and returned some years ago to the old country.  One of the farms which he held, that of Hatherley, was let to Mr. Charles McCarthy, who was also an ex-Australian.  The men had known each other in the colonies, so that it was not unnatural that when they came to settle down they should do so as near each other as possible.  Turner was apparently the richer man, so McCarthy became his tenant but still remained, it seems, upon terms of perfect equality, as they were frequently together.  McCarthy had one son, a lad of eighteen, and Turner had an only daughter of the same age, but neither of them had wives living.  They appear to have avoided the society of the neighbouring English families and to have led retired lives, though both the McCarthys were fond of sport and were frequently seen at the race-meetings of the neighbourhood.  McCarthy kept two servants—­a man and a girl.  Turner had a considerable household, some half-dozen at the least.  That is as much as I have been able to gather about the families.  Now for the facts.

“On June 3rd, that is, on Monday last, McCarthy left his house at Hatherley about three in the afternoon and walked down to the Boscombe Pool, which is a small lake formed by the spreading out of the stream which runs down the Boscombe Valley.  He had been out with his serving-man in the morning at Ross, and he had told the man that he must hurry, as he had an appointment of importance to keep at three.  From that appointment he never came back alive.

“From Hatherley Farm-house to the Boscombe Pool is a quarter of a mile, and two people saw him as he passed over this ground.  One was an old woman, whose name is not mentioned, and the other was William Crowder, a game-keeper in the employ of Mr. Turner.  Both these witnesses depose that Mr. McCarthy was walking alone.  The game-keeper adds that within a few minutes of his seeing Mr. McCarthy pass he had seen his son, Mr. James McCarthy, going the same way with a gun under his arm.  To the best of his belief, the father was actually in sight at the time, and the son was following him.  He thought no more of the matter until he heard in the evening of the tragedy that had occurred.