The cigarette which had accompanied the wide mouth all the way from Manton danced again. Bony watched it with interest, and this time he studied Falla’s face and found character.

“Edward Carlow,” he prompted. “Been long in the district?”

“Yair, born there… near Edison. His old man had a farm. Never didno good. When he died, the farm wastook off the Carlows. Mrs Carlow had nothing but what she stood up in, and Ed was sick of working for his old man what usta booze all they made. There’s young Alf, too. Him and me went to school same time.

“When old Carlow pegged out, Ed started a butcherin’ business in Edison. Got helped, they say, by Miss Janet Answerth. As there wasn’tno butcher’s shop before, Ed came good. Some say he come good too fast for proper tradin’. Might be something to it. In no time Ed bought a new delivery van. Used it to bring the carcases from the slaughter yard they built out of town. Got more’n a bit flash as time went on. Bought a nice house in Edison and give it to his mother. Me old man said he wasn’t surprised when Ed ended up in Answerth’s Folly.”

Abruptly the track turned away from the valley and snaked upward among the hills. The service car roared along the defile created by the jealous forest, and Mike concentrated on his work. Presently he said:

“Me old man usta tell me: if ever yourobs a bank, Mike, be sure to plant the dough and don’t spend none of it for five years. People is terrible suspicious these days. If youbuys a new shirt, they wonders where you got the money. You keep your eyes on our stock, Mike. A butcher who don’t have to pay for a carcase of meat makes a hell of a good profit in his shop.”

“Did Edward Carlow ever fall into trouble?” asked Bony.

“Not him. Ed was too wise to slip up on anything.”

“And yet he was found drowned in Answerth’s Folly.”