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With the first clearing of the snow in the spring John Donaldson had appeared again, leading two saddled horses and driving a pack animal, and they had started off, leaving him standing in the clearing and gazing after them. But they had not followed Donaldson's trail. They had started West, over the mountains, and David did not know the country. Once they were lost for three days.
A few days later, sitting in my office, I was frozen with astonishment when a written card was handed in to me bearing the name "Washington H. Donaldson"! As soon as I could recover myself, the bearer of the card was asked in. He was a man within a year or two of my friend's age at the time of his death, Wash Donaldson's very self in face and figure!
"I say!" he said. "What?" "He ought to have gone before," said Mr. Jackson. "He's fifteen. Much too old for that private school. He has had it all his own way there, and it isn't good for him." "He's got cheek enough for ten," agreed Bob. "Wrykyn will do him a world of good." "We aren't in the same house. That's one comfort." Bob was in Donaldson's.
It was warm, with the slight tang of autumn, and the yellow leaves were fluttering down; squirrels were barking, and a flock of geese, so high in the air that they sparkled, in the sunshine, were gossiping, and the music of their voices rained upon the river surface as upon a sounding board. Terabon was approaching Donaldson's Point, Winchester Chute, Island No. 10, and New Madrid.
Things have happened so rapidly that we are probably both muddled, and if we could spend the time in explanations we should doubtless find that neither of us means anything." She was clearly relieved, but it raised a new question in Donaldson's mind. Of course she understood nothing of what had taken place last night unless by mental telepathy.
An armed burglar would have left some trace some one would have heard something. Then who locked and unlocked Lady Donaldson's door that night while she herself lay dead? "Some one in the house, I tell you some one who left no trace some one against whom there could be no suspicion some one who killed without apparently the slightest premeditation, and without the slightest motive.
He could almost have cried with pure fright. Bob had shouted after him from a window as he passed Donaldson's, to wait, so that they could walk over together; but conversation was the last thing Mike desired at that moment. He had almost reached the pavilion when one of the M.C.C. team came down the steps, saw him, and stopped dead. "By Jove, Saunders!" cried Mike. "Why, Master Mike!"
He had been petitioning the home authorities for the past year to be allowed to leave his private school and go to Wrykyn, and now the thing had come about. He wondered what sort of a house Wain's was, and whether they had any chance of the cricket cup. According to Bob they had no earthly; but then Bob only recognised one house, Donaldson's.
Two days had elapsed since Dunstable and Linton had looked in on Sheen for tea. It was a Saturday afternoon, and roll-call was just over. There was no first fifteen match, only a rather uninteresting house-match, Templar's versus Donaldson's, and existence in the school grounds showed signs of becoming tame. "What a beastly term the Easter term is," said Linton, yawning.
I think you had better come up here at once if it is safe to leave Ben." "I shall make it safe. Don't forget to send down my man." He hung up the receiver and turned to Arsdale. The latter must have noticed instantly the change in Donaldson's expression, for he rose to his elbow with eager face. "You'll tell me before you go! You'll tell before " "You didn't kill," answered Donaldson.
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