For a mile or so they pushed the car along one of the rough tracks of the marsh. As the looker explained, the detour was even more extensive than if they had gone on foot, and the roughness of the going made the driver wary of anything in the nature of speed. The detective and his guide descended when the latter observed that within the next mile they would come within sight of Mope’s Bottom. They made their way over the pastures and dykes on foot by a more direct, but still devious route.

Presently they were within view of the dark mass of the house. They lay on the edge of a dyke and studied it for a while. Through his glasses Labar could see nothing that gave the slightest indication of life. There was not even a wisp of smoke from the chimneys, and the windows were tight-closed. From where they were the angle of the wall hid a distinct view of the gate, but the detective rapped out an oath as he tried to confirm an impression that it was open. Could it be that after all he was too late?