"They suspect him?" asked Copplestone.
"Undoubtedly!"
"Sir Cresswell Oliver said as much to me—but no more. Have they said more to you?"
"The suspicion seemed to have originated with Petherton. Petherton, in spite of his meek old-fashioned manners, is as sharp an old bird as you'll find in London! He fastened at once on what Bassett Oliver said to that fisherman, Ewbank. A keen nose for a scent, Petherton's! And he's determined to find out who it was that Bassett Oliver met in the United States under the name of Marston Greyle. He's already set the machinery in motion. And in the meantime, I'm to keep my eye on this Squire—as I shall!"
"Why watch him particularly?"
"To see that he doesn't depart for unknown regions—or, if he does, to follow in his track. He's not to be lost sight of until this mystery is cleared. Because—something is wrong.
Copplestone considered matters in silence for a few moments, and decided not to reveal the story of Zachary Spurge to Gilling—yet awhile at any rate. However, he had news which there was no harm in communicating.
"Marston Greyle," he said, presently, "or his agent, Peter Chatfield, or both, in common agreement, are already doing something to solve the mystery—so far as Greyle's property is concerned. They've closed the Keep and its surrounding ruins to the people who used to be permitted to go in, and they're conducting
