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Gregg. What, I wonder, brought the
unfortunate young man up into our wood?"
"An appointment, without a doubt. But with whom?"
She shook her head, saying:
"My father often goes to that spot to shoot pigeon in the evening. He
told us so at luncheon to-day. How fortunate he was not there last
night, or he might be suspected."
"Yes," I said. "It is a very fortunate circumstance, for it cannot be a
pleasant experience to be under suspicion of being an assassin. He was
at home last night, was he?" I added casually.
"Of course. Don't you recollect that when you called he chatted with
you? I did some typewriting for him in the study, and we were together
all the afternoon--or at least till nearly five o'clock, when we went
out into the hall to tea."
"Then what is your theory regarding the affair?" I inquired, rather
puzzled why she should so decisively prove an alibi for her father.
"It seems certain that the poor fellow went to the wood by appointment,
and was killed. But have you been up to the spot since the finding of
the body?"
"No.


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