the arm at last, and asked him rather crossly what was the matter.
Antony shook his head slowly from side to side.
"I don't know; really I don't know. It's too devilish what I keep thinking. He can't be as cold-blooded as that."
"Who?"
Without answering, Antony led the way back to the garden-seat on which they had been sitting. He sat there with his head in his hands.
"Oh, I hope they find something," he murmured. "Oh, I hope they do."
"In the pond?"
"Yes."
"But what?"
"Anything, Bill; anything."
Bill was annoyed. "I say, Tony, this won't do. You really mustn't be so damn mysterious. What's happened to you suddenly?"
Antony looked up at him in surprise.
"Didn't you hear what he said?"
"What, particularly?"
"That it was Cayley's idea to drag the pond."
"Oh! Oh, I say!" Bill was rather excited again. "You mean that he's hidden something there? Some false clue which he wants the police to find?"
"I hope so," said Antony earnestly, "but I'm afraid" He stopped short.
"Afraid of what?"
