The essentials of the story, which Jonathan related with great liveliness, were that, on the second morning after Mrs Bradley’s departure for London, Will North had been out on his rounds when he saw a shotgun leaned up against the haunted gate at the top of Groaning Spinney. Wondering who could have left it there, since neither Jonathan nor Tiny was likely to have done so, Will went up to the gun and had a look at it. He did not touch it at first because he thought he knew every gun on the estate and possessed six or seven of his own. He could not recognize the gun, so he went up to the fence, ducked through it to come out on the side against which the gun was leaning, and was just in time to hold up Ed Brown who was coming that way with a wagon. Ed had been about to get down to open the gate.

It was Will’s sharp eyes which had spotted the thread tied to the trigger. He realized that the gun was at full cock. Then occurred a curious incident. Will had gone forward to warn Ed, and the carter had walked towards him to see the thread. At the same instant a bird which had accompanied Ed across three fields also saw the thread, and, apparently deciding that it would help in making its nest, it had pecked at the string. The gun went off, fortunately into the air, so that it did no harm to anybody, and the bird flew on to Ed’s shoulder and chattered complainingly of the noise.

Ed was for picking up the gun, but Will restrained him. He himself remained on guard over the gun, and sent Ed for Jonathan.

Mrs Bradley listened with the most intense interest to this story.

‘Then, as I see it, Ed was the most likely person to have been killed or injured,’ she said. ‘I wonder whether it was known that he had to come that way?’

‘A good many people could have known it, but to my mind it leads back to Tiny Fullalove,’ said Jonathan. ‘And if it is Tiny, you’re not too safe here, are you? After all, he told you he’d hurt his knee again, but we haven’t any proof of it, you know.’

‘If you don’t mind having me, I should like to stay here again for a bit,’ said Mrs Bradley. She looked extremely cheerful. ‘It is not an easy matter to break into this house, and in the open I am prepared to take my chance. As to Mr Fullalove, I can soon find out from my good young friend Detective-Inspector Gavin of Scotland Yard whether he is in hospital, and, if he is, where.’

‘Could he give any explanation as to what he was doing on your verandah?’

‘Not a satisfactory one. He said he had mistaken the house.’

‘But you think—?’