“Youwas asking after Mr. Grumman, marm.”

“How dare you come here, Bisker!” cried Miss Jade.

“I came to give you a bit of news about Mr. Grumman, marm,” Bisker persisted, the sardonic smile lingering in his eyes. “It isn’t thesorta news I thought you’d want the guests to know just yet.”

Bisker waited. He had news to impart and it was not going to lose anything in the telling. Miss Jade regarded him icily. To her this was a new Bisker.

“Well what have you to say to me about Mr. Grumman?” she asked.

“He’s fell asleep, marm, that’s what ’e’sdone.”

“Fallen asleep! Why he’s not in his room. He’s still out.”

“Yes, marm-out for keeps-out in the ditch the other side of the front fence. He’s dead.”

“He’s d-” began Miss Jade in a high loud voice. Then she checked herself. Pushing back her chair, she stood up and stared down upon the rotund Bisker. Softly, she asked:

“Did you say Mr. Grumman is dead, Bisker?”

Bisker nodded.

Now Miss Jade was a woman of character. She had begun in a small suburban boarding-house, and worked through a succession of larger boarding-houses to small guest houses until she became the proprietress of Wideview Chalet on Mount Chalmers. She was not one to give way to panic. The swinging doors were not so far removed that the maid on the other side could not hear what was being said.

“Come with me to the office, Bisker.”

Bisker ambled after her. When within the office, she ordered a young and efficient-looking girl to take her breakfast, and then she waited for ten seconds before closing the door and saying to Bisker:

“Now, Bisker.”

Bisker told how he had observed a working man coming up from the wicket gate, how he had “rushed” down to stop him and to turn himout, and how he had been led to observe the body of Mr. Grumman.