Come along."
"Where are we going?"
"To visit our esteemed friend, Jake
Warner. There Is Just a chance he
may show temper. Shall we risk It,
Mr. Phillips, or shall we call the po
liceman from the house yonder?"
I told him quite briefly that I would
see the policeman condemned first
Warner's cottage, was a straw
thatched, ivy-covered little place,
built on the slope of the park. Be
neath It a brook that carried the
overflow from the lake gurgled mo
notonously by. A thin, long-legged
man, who was digging in a patch of
garden, stopped his work at sight of
us and waited, leaning on his spade.
"Jake Warner, isn't It?" Peace In
quired over the low fence of split
pine. "Tes, sir."
"I am Inspector Addlngton Peace of
the Criminal Investigation Depart
ment."
Warner said nothing, but I saw his
fingers clerch upon his spade, as be
gave the detective stare for stare.
"A fairly good breeding season for
the ducks, I should imagine," con
tinued the little man, with a benevo
lent interest
There was still no reply.
"I understand the foxes are very
troublesome."
Warner threw down his spade and
strode up to where we stood. His
eyes had in them the dumb agony of
a wild thing in a trap.
"I am a married man, sir," he said.
"For my wife's sake take me away
quietly."
"I have not come to arrest yon,
Jake Warner," said Peace. "If you
are responsible for your master's
death. It was by sheer accident. But
the question is, are you responsible?"
"No, sir, I am not. But I can never
prove It"
"Perhaps It would be best If you ex
plained." We remained where we were, with
the fence between us, while he told
his story.
