“I had nothing of the sort,” I said shortly. I rather dislike Hawes’s tendency to mysticism. There is a touch of the visionary about him.
“Have you told the police about this man Archer, sir?”
“I know nothing about him.”
“I mean, have you repeated to them what Colonel Protheroe said—about Archer having threatened him?”
“No,” I said slowly. “I have not.”
“But you are going to do so?”
I was silent. I dislike hounding a man down who has already got the forces of law and order against him. I held no brief for Archer. He is an inveterate poacher—one of those cheerful ne’er-do-wells that are to be found in any parish. Whatever he may have said in the heat of anger when he was sentenced I had no definite knowledge that he felt the same when he came out of prison.
“You heard the conversation,” I said at last. “If you feel it your duty to go to the police with it, you must do so.”
“It would come better from you, sir.”
“Perhaps—but to tell the truth—well, I’ve no fancy for doing it. I might be helping to put the rope round the neck of an innocent man.”
“But if he shot Colonel Protheroe—”
“Oh, if! There’s no evidence of any kind that he did.”
“His threats.”
“Strictly speaking, the threats were not his, but Colonel Protheroe’s. Colonel Protheroe was threatening to show Archer what vengeance was