“As M. Poirot was going out the other day, he stopped and looked at it, and he

made some remark—I can’t remember exactly what it was. Something about

Cranchester being the only big town anywhere near us—which is true, of course.

But after he had gone—it came to me suddenly.”

 

“What came to you?”

 

“His meaning. Of course Ralph is in Cranchester.”

 

It was at that moment that I knocked down the rack that held my pieces.

 

My sister immediately reproved me for clumsiness, but half-heartedly.

 

She was intent on her theory.

 

“Cranchester, Miss Caroline?” said Colonel Carter. “Surely not Cranchester! It’s

so near.”

 

“That’s exactly it,” cried Caroline triumphantly. “It seems quite clear by now

that he didn’t get away from here by train. He must simply have walked into

Cranchester. And I believe he’s there still. No one would dream of his being so

near at hand.”

 

I pointed out several objections to the theory, but when once Caroline has got