"It is
not my place, sir," he announced, "to share any discovery I might make
with a person who has deliberately refused to assist the law."
"No one has convinced me yet," Tallente replied, "that Palliser's
disappearance is a matter in which the law need concern itself." The
inspector coughed. "I wish you good night, sir." He disappeared along
the narrow path. They listened to his retreating footsteps. Tallente
picked up his end of the rope. "I was right," he said, as he led the
way back to the house. "Quite the Inspector Bucket type."
CHAPTER VI
At noon the next day, Tallente, nervously as well as physically
exhausted with the long climb from the Manor, turned aside from the
straight, dusty road and seated himself upon a lichen-covered boulder.
He threw his cap on the ground, filled and lighted an old briar pipe,
and gazed with a queer mixture of feelings across the moorland to where
Woolhanger spread itself, a queer medley of dwelling house and farm
buildings, strangely situated at the far end of the table-land he was
crossing, where the moor leaned down to a great hollow in the hills.
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