Page 34 - the-thirty-nine-steps

had been cheap at the price, for he seemed to have occupied
the police for the better part of the day. In the latest news I
found a further instalment of the story. The milkman had
been released, I read, and the true criminal, about whose
identity the police were reticent, was believed to have got
away from London by one of the northern lines. There was
a short note about me as the owner of the flat. I guessed
the police had stuck that in, as a clumsy contrivance to per-
suade me that I was unsuspected.
There was nothing else in the paper, nothing about for-
eign politics or Karolides, or the things that had interested
Scudder. I laid it down, and found that we were approaching
the station at which I had got out yesterday. The potato-
digging station-master had been gingered up into some
activity, for the west-going train was waiting to let us pass,
and from it had descended three men who were asking him
questions. I supposed that they were the local police, who
had been stirred up by Scotland Yard, and had traced me as
far as this one-horse siding. Sitting well back in the shadow
I watched them carefully. One of them had a book, and took
down notes. The old potato-digger seemed to have turned
peevish, but the child who had collected my ticket was talk-
ing volubly. All the party looked out across the moor where
the white road departed. I hoped they were going to take up
my tracks there.
As we moved away from that station my companion
woke up. He fixed me with a wandering glance, kicked his
dog viciously, and inquired where he was. Clearly he was
very drunk. ‘That’s what comes o’ bein’ a teetotaller,’ he ob-

34 The Thirty-Nine Steps