THE MAN WHO KNEW
"I beg your pardon, Sergeant," he stammered.
"What 's the matter?" scowled the other. "What 's wrong with you, Constable?"
Sergeant Smith's face was drawn and haggard. The policeman looked at him with open-mouthed astonishment.
"I did n't know it was you," he said.
"What's wrong?" asked the other again, and his voice was cracked and unnatural.
"There 's been a murder—old Minute—shot!"
Sergeant Smith staggered back a pace.
"Good God!" he said. "Minute murdered? Then he did it! The young devil did it!"
"Come and have a look," invited Wiseman, recovering his balance. "I 've got his nephew."
"No, no! I don't want to see John Minute dead! You go back. I 'll bring another constable and a doctor."
He stumbled blindly along the drive into the road, and Constable Wiseman went back to the house. Frank was where he had left him,
198
