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.
MALTENBY HALL
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.
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