“I may,” Julian answered thoughtfully.  “The instinct of the sleuthhound is beginning to stir in me.  There is no telling how far it may lead.”

Julian started on his tramp about half an hour later.  He paused first at a bend in the road, about fifty yards down, and stepped up close to the hedge.

“The instinct of the sleuthhound,” he said to himself, “is all very well, but why on earth haven’t I told Furley about the car?”

He paused to consider the matter, conscious only of the fact that each time he had opened his lips to mention it, he had felt a marked but purposeless disinclination to do so.  He consoled himself now with the reflection that the information would be more or less valueless until the afternoon, and he forthwith proceeded upon the investigation which he had planned out.

The road was still muddy, and the track of the tyres, which were of somewhat peculiar pattern, clearly visible.  He followed it along the road for a matter of a mile and a half.  Then he came to a standstill before a plain oak gate and was conscious of a distinct shock.  On the top bar of the gate was painted in white letters.

Maltenbyhall

TRADESMEN’S entrance

and it needed only the most cursory examination to establish the fact that the car whose track he had been following had turned in here.  He held up his hand and stopped a luggage trolley which had just turned the bend in the avenue.  The man pulled up and touched his hat.

“Where are you off to, Fellowes?” Julian enquired.

“I am going to Holt station, sir,” the man replied, “after some luggage.”

“Are there any guests at the Hall who motored here, do you know?” Julian asked.

“Only the young lady, sir,” the man replied, “Miss Abbeway.  She came in a little coupe Panhard.”

Julian frowned thoughtfully.

“Has she been out in it this morning?” he asked.

The man shook his head.

“She broke down in it yesterday afternoon, sir,” he answered, “about halfway up to the Hall here.”

“Broke down?” Julian repeated.  “Anything serious?  Couldn’t you put it right for her?”

“She wouldn’t let me touch it, sir,” the man explained.  “She said she had two cracked sparking plugs, and she wanted to replace them herself.  She has had some lessons, and I think she wanted a bit of practice.”

“I see.  Then the car is in the avenue now?”

“About half a mile up, on the left-hand side, sir, just by the big elm.  Miss Abbeway said she was coming down this afternoon to put new plugs in.”

“Then it’s been there all the time since yesterday afternoon?” Julian persisted.

“The young lady wished it left there, sir.  I could have put a couple of plugs in, in five minutes, and brought her up to the house, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”

“I see, Fellowes.”