J. S. Fletcher

“ There was no doubt in his mind now that the Baron von Eckhardstein was the second man of the midnight meeting at the Sceptre; Pegge's story, and his own knowledge that von Eckhardstein had abstracted the pipe from the solicitor's table at the inquest, convinced him of that. But was that sufficient to make one suspect him of murder? Blick thought not—emphatically not. He could scarcely believe it possible that a man would murder another, remain in close proximity to the scene of the murder, and generally act as von Eckhardstein seemed to have acted. ”

“ Blick looked at Grimsdale, who went out and returned with a frothing tankard, which he set down at the groom's elbow.
"See that we're not disturbed, Grimsdale," said Blick. "If anybody—never mind who it is—wants me, say I'm engaged."
The landlord withdrew and closed the door and Blick pushed his tobacco pouch over to his visitor, who was fingering his pipe.
"Try a bit of that," he said hospitably, "and light up. Well—you wanted to have a talk with me, Pegge. "What is it?" ”

“ Now then, you must understand that our stabling at the Dower House is separated from the drive by a high hedge of macrocarpus trees—shrubbery, d'ye see? I was going along this hedge side, between it and the coach-house wall, on my way to the stairs that leads up to my bedroom, when I hear somebody coming down the drive, t'other side the hedge—soft, like. So I stops, dead——"
"Wait a minute," interrupted Blick. "What were you walking on, yourself, Pegge? What sort of a pavement, or path?"
"Asphalt—laid down recent," answered Pegge, promptly. "Runs all along the front of our stabling. ”