He's coming in."
The men in the room turned with undisguised interest as the door opened
again, and a big, fresh-coloured countryman, well wrapped up in a stout
travelling coat, stepped into the room and took a sharp glance at its
occupants. He was evidently a well-to-do farmer, this, and quite at his
ease--but there was a certain natural anxiety in his manner as he turned
to the official, who sat at the desk in the centre of the group.
"You're aware of my business, sir?" he asked quietly.
"I understand you're the brother of the Stephen Purvis we're wanting to
find in connection with this Praed Street mystery," answered the official.
"You've read of that in the newspaper, no doubt, Mr. Purvis? Take a seat--
you want to tell us something? As a matter of fact, we're all discussing
the affair!"
The caller took the chair which Ayscough drew forward and sat down,
throwing open his heavy overcoat, and revealing a whipcord riding-suit of
light fawn beneath it.
"You'll see I came here in a hurry, gentlemen," he said, with a smile.
"I'd no thoughts of coming to London when I left my farm this morning, or
I'd have put London clothes on! The fact is--I farm at a very out-of-the-
way place between Moretonhampstead and Exeter, and I never see the daily
papers except when I drive into Exeter twice a week.
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