an end to all really careful investigation of the circumstances
and make the discovery of the truth highly improbable.

For the idea that the murder was the work of poachers would, when
once adopted, fill the minds of the police and of every one else,
and no suspicion would be directed elsewhere.

By the tremendous relief he felt, Dunn understood how heavy had been
the burden of fear and apprehension that till now had oppressed him.

If he had not found that handkerchief--if he had not secured that
letter--why, by now the police would be at Bittermeads.

"All the same," he thought. "No one who is guilty shall escape
through me."

But what this phrase meant, and what he intended to do, he would
not permit himself to think out clearly or try to understand.

The boy, having told his story, hurried off to spread the news
elsewhere to more appreciative ears, for, he thought disgustedly,
it might have been just nothing at all for all the interest the
gardener at Bittermeads had shown.

As soon as he was gone, Dunn went across to the house, and going up
to the window of the drawing-room where Ella and her mother were
having tea, he tapped on the pane.

Ella looked up and saw him, and came at once to open the window,
while from behind Mrs. Dawson frowned in severe disapproval of what