J. S. Fletcher

“ At five minutes to eleven he came back."
"Alone?" asked the Coroner.
"Yes, sir, alone. He remained alone, in that parlour, until an hour later. Then, at five minutes to twelve, I heard a knock at the door. I went and opened it, and found Mr. Guy Markenmore there."
"You knew who he was?—you recognized him?"
"Oh yes, sir—I knew Mr. Guy well enough in the old days. He hadn't altered much."
"Had you any conversation with him?"
"Just a bit, sir. He said, 'Hullo, Grimsdale, how are you? ”

“ I thought then that I wouldn't bother about going to bed—and I set to work clearing away the supper things and tidying up the parlour. Of course, I expected the gentleman back any minute—my idea was that he'd just strolled up the road a bit with the other two. But he never came—never seen nor heard of him since, sir."
The Coroner looked down at the officials and the lawyers.
His manner became that of a man who after following various tortuous ways, suddenly finds himself in a cul-de-sac. ”

“ Guy, and which was the first man who came to the Sceptre. Mr. Guy was walking in the middle; the gentleman who came at nine o'clock was on his left-hand side; the third man was on his right."
"What sort of man was he?"
"A tall man, sir—a good six foot." ”

“ Harry—the third man, I mean. As it got toward three o'clock, I began to doze in my chair in front of the fire, and I think I fell asleep. I was awakened by hearing the garden gate clash. I jumped up and looked out of the window. I saw three men in the road outside. They——"
"Stop a bit, if you please," interrupted the Coroner. "This is likely to be a very important point. Now, do you know—precisely—what time this was, Grimsdale?" ”

“ This horsy appearance was accentuated by his garments—a suit of whipcord cloth, of the pepper-and-salt variety, smart box-cloth gaiters, and a white hunting stock, fastened by a large, good horseshoe pin. ”