Dictator's Way by E.R. Punshon Read Free Book Online Page A

good as round his neck, come here to hide – why here? – and on seeing Bobby arrive he had, like the muddle-headed fool he was, jumped to the conclusion that Bobby’s errand was to arrest him. To him, with his record, no doubt arrest and conviction meant the same.
    It began to come slowly into Bobby’s mind that perhaps the oddest incident in the whole business might turn out to be that anonymous letter of accusation. Mere silly spite though, most likely, well calculated, too, to give a really bad scare to a man like Clarence.
    But then who should want to frighten Clarence, and why?
    Supposing Waveny for instance – but here Bobby felt that now he was no longer trying to think things out but merely indulging in wild guesses. He got firmly to his feet, resolute to spend no more time in speculation; unless and until further developments occurred. The sun had done its work now and his clothes were dry enough to put on. He dressed accordingly, and as he did so watched with curiosity the empty house behind him, and how from those uncurtained, unshuttered windows on the top floor the rays of the nearly setting sun winked back at him, as though to remind him how much more they knew than did he.
    He decided that now he was here he might as well have a look round the building. Of course, he was a trespasser, but if he were challenged, since in spite of its deserted air the place seemed so populated, what with large, angry men, small, horrid men, tall, pale young women, he could always plead the notice-board offering the house and grounds for sale. Easy to pass for the interested, or even merely curious, possible purchaser.
    But first of all he strolled down to the edge of the pond and was not long in finding on the muddy bank a medley of footprints and other signs of a struggle that seemed to confirm the tale of the ‘horrid little man’ flung into its water. An expert might, Bobby supposed, be able to read the whole story from those various marks and signs, and at any rate he, though he was no expert, was able to pick out two or three footmarks, a man’s and yet too small to be those of Clarence, that were still damp and that pointed from the pond as if someone, very wet, had been going away from it.
    Well, that at any rate suggested the ‘horrid little man’ had not remained under its calm and unclean surface. Reassured on this point, Bobby turned his steps towards the house. The facade seemed to offer nothing of interest. Bobby tried the front door, found it secure, knocked, rang, waited a little, tried knocking and ringing again, got no answer. The bell was of the electric type and he could hear its shrill summons sound within the house. So that had been kept in order, and Bobby noticed, too, that there was a telephone wire running to the house, though of course it did not follow the instrument itself was still in position.
    He walked on round by the side of the building without noticing anything unusual. On the south side there was a verandah and a side door opening on it. He tried this door and found it securely fastened, nor did it show any sign of recent use. Mr. Judson’s visitors were probably of the nocturnal type and not much interested in verandahs or garden doors. There was a large conservatory here, too, quite empty and looking very desolate. Passing round it, Bobby came to the back of the house. Here was a large paved courtyard, two or three outbuildings, and a certain amount of debris, including two or three empty, rusting and overturned dustbins. There was a large garden roller, too, standing in one corner, and Bobby supposed he might as well try the back door and make sure that was fast. Approaching, he saw lying quite near three one-pound notes.
    Curious, he thought. What could they be doing there? They couldn’t have been there long, anyhow. Very odd, he thought, and odder still he thought it when he stooped to examine them more closely, and saw upon the corner of