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Updated: June 13, 2025
I don't believe Miss Chatfield told any of the theatre people she went to her work just the same, of course. The old gentleman saw to everything funeral and all. I'll say this for them. they gave me no unnecessary trouble, but still, there's trouble that is necessary when you've death in a house and a funeral at the door, and they ought to have given me something for what I did.
And while this was going on, Andrius, or his co-villain, found time to examine those chests that Chatfield told us of, and when they found that Chatfield had done them, they came back here quick. Now they're off to make him reveal the whereabouts of the real chests." "Won't they be rather running their necks into a noose?" suggested Audrey.
"I should indeed, like to know especially if Miss Chatfield proposes to tell us something about her father." Mr. Petherton, who frowned very much and appeared to be greatly disturbed by these irregularities, twisted sharply round on the visitor. "Where is your father?" he demanded. "Where you can't find him!" retorted Addie, with a flash of the eye that lit up her whole face. "So's Andrius.
Chatfield brought him there. He produced proofs of identification papers which Chatfield no doubt took from the dead man. Of course, the solicitors never doubted for a moment that he was the real Marston Greyle! never dreamed of fraud: Well the next step. We must concentrate on finding this man. And Swallow has nothing to tell yet. He has never seen anything more of him.
Now, there, one afternoon as I was in that there tower, a-reading of a newspaper that Jim had brought me the night before, I hears wheels on that moorland road, and I looked out through a convenient loophole, and who should I see but Peter Chatfield in that old pony trap of his.
Before Chatfield, moaning and groaning, could find his voice capable of words, Marston Greyle, pale and excited, came round a corner of the ruins. "What's this, what's all this?" he demanded. "Here, yon sir, what are you doing with that stick! What " "I'm about to chastise your agent for his scoundrelly insolence to your cousin," retorted Copplestone with cheerful determination.
But Chatfield was already bearing down on them, his solemn-featured face dark with displeasure. He raised his voice while he was yet a dozen yards away. "I thought I'd told you as you wasn't to come near these here ruins!" he said, addressing Audrey in a fashion which made Copplestone's fingers itch to snatch the oak staff from the agent and lay it freely about his person.
The other is Addie Chatfield was certainly in Bristol on that date and for eleven days after it." "Well what next?" asked Copplestone. "I've been thinking that over while you stared at the bill," answered Gilling. "I think the best thing will be to find out where Addie Chatfield put herself up during her stay.
"Take care that he doesn't collar it yet," said Mrs. Greyle with a laugh as she went into her own room. "Chatfield is resourceful enough for anything. And take care of yourselves!" That was the second admonition to be careful, and Copplestone thought of both, as, an hour later, he, Gilling, Vickers and Spurge sped along the desolate, wind-swept moorland on their way to the Reaver's Glen.
And so Audrey and I pocketed our pride, and went to see Peter Chatfield. But Peter Chatfield, like his master, had gone! He had left home the previous evening, and his house was locked up." Copplestone and Vickers exchanged glances, and the young solicitor signed Mrs. Greyle to proceed. "Then," she added, "to add to that, as we came away from Chatfield's house, we met Mr.
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