The Chase After the Truth
plain clothes, very still; but Paynter knew instantly who they were.
"We must move at once," said the lawyer. "Dr. Burton Brown is leaving the village."
The tall detective sprang to his feet, and Paynter instinctively imitated him.
"He has gone up to the Trehernes possibly to say good-by," went on Ashe rapidly. "I'm sorry, but we must arrest him in the garden there, if necessary. I've kept the lady out of the way, I think. But you"—addressing the factitious landscape painter—"must go up at once and rig up that easel of yours near the table and be ready. We will follow quietly, and come up behind the tree. We must be careful, for it's clear he's got wind of us, or he wouldn't be doing a bolt."
"I don't like this job," remarked Paynter, as they mounted toward the park and garden, the detective darting on ahead.
"Do you suppose I do?" asked Ashe; and, indeed, his strong, heavy face looked so lined and old that the red hair seemed unnatural, like a red wig. "I've known him longer than you, though perhaps I've suspected him longer as well."
When they topped the slope of the garden the detective had already erected his easel, though a strong breeze blowing toward the sea rattled and flapped his apparatus and blew about his fair (and false) beard in the wind. Little
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