"Is there another inn at Stanton—fairly close to the station?"
"The 'Plough and Horses'—just at the corner where the road goes up to the station—is that the one you mean?"
"That would be the one. I suppose you could do with a drink, couldn't you?"
"Rather!" said Bill, with a grin.
"Good. Then have one at the 'Plough and Horses.' Have two, if you like, and talk to the landlord, or landlady, or whoever serves you. I want you to find out if anybody stayed there on Monday night."
"Robert?" said Bill eagerly.
"I didn't say Robert," said Antony, smiling. "I just want you to find out if they had a visitor who slept there on Monday night. A stranger. If so, then any particulars you can get of him, without letting the landlord know that you are interested—"
"Leave it to me," broke in Bill. "I know just what you want."
"Don't assume that it was Robert—or anybody else. Let them describe the man to you. Don't influence them unconsciously by suggesting that he was short or tall, or anything of that sort. Just get them talking. If it's the landlord, you'd better stand him a drink or two."
"Right you are," said Bill confidently. "Where do I meet you again?"
"Probably at 'The George.' If you get there before
