4
WHAT Mr. Bunn said usually went— after a fair amount of pretty acid conversation from his rather morose partner— so that within twenty minutes Sing had slung their big car across to Downland Holt, the house occupied by the colonel. It was a biggish, gloomy place, surrounded by trees on three sides, and with the exception of one or two outdoor servants' cottages, some distance away, it was the only house within a radius of perhaps a couple of miles. Long before the car of the adventurers had rolled to a standstill, the deep warnings of several big dogs had notified the occupants of this remote habitation that strangers were about.
The response to Smiler Bunn's ring was practically instant.
The door was opened silently, framing the figure of a manservant just as correctly dressed as if
