for bed. "That's about the only fun you get up here, isn't it?"

"Convict escaped? No--a man done in seemingly. Mr. Pendean's
uncle-in-law have slaughtered Mr. Pendean by the looks of it."

"What did he want to do that for?" asked Brendon without emotion.

"That's for clever men like you to find out," answered Will.

"And who is Mr. Pendean?"

"The gentleman what's building the bungalow down to Foggintor."

Mark started. The big red man flashed to his mind complete in every
physical feature. He described him and Will Blake replied:

"That's the chap that's done it. That's the gentleman's
uncle-in-law!"

Brendon went to bed and slept no worse for the tragedy. Nor, when
morning came and every maid and man desired to tell him all they
knew, did he show the least interest. When Milly knocked with his
hot water and drew up his blind, she judged that nobody could
appreciate the event better than a famous detective.

"Oh, sir--such a fearful thing--" she began. But he cut her short.

"Now, Milly, don't talk shop. I haven't come to Dartmoor to catch
murderers, but to catch trout. What's the weather like?"