It was no easy task to restore the derelict to the hard levels of the high-road. But Cannington collected a gang of agriculturals from unknown quarters and we set to work. With spades and crowbars, broad weather-boards from an adjacent incomplete building as temporary tram-lines, and a tow-rope from Trent's machine to mine, we managed the job fairly expeditiously, considering the environment. With water from the nearest pond for the outside of the car, and oil and petrol for the interior, I managed to get the Rippler into working order, although she was more or less shaken, and did not run very smoothly. Fortunately the lady had abandoned her loot within half a mile of Murchester, so with careful driving I contrived to get over that distance in safety. After storing the Rippler in a convenient garage, to be repaired and overhauled, I went on to the Barracks with Cannington in Trent's motor. Here I proposed to put up until the inquest was at an end and I was free to leave the neighbourhood. It was rather a nuisance to be thus publicly housed, as one might put it, for everyone, from the Colonel to the latest-joined subaltern, asked questions and aired impossible theories. My intimate connection with the affair made me an object of interest to one and all. And small wonder that it should be so, for the mystery of the affair was most enthralling.
On the way to his quarters, Cannington--perhaps to distract my thoughts from more immediate troubles--mentioned casually that Wentworth Marr had left a card for him at Mess, just before we had arrived on the day of the murder. I did not take any interest in Marr, as I had never seen him, so it was a matter of indifference to me whether he had called or not. But the boy fidgeted over the matter, as he made sure he was about to be asked a knotty question officially, as the head of the Wotton family.
"I am certain that Marr wishes to know if I will agree to his marrying my sister," said Cannington irritably. "And I don't know what to say."
"Refer him to the lady," I suggested absently.
"I sha'nt. He's too old for Mabel, and I don't want her to marry him in any case. I wish Weston would come up to the scratch, for he told me that he loved Mabel, and I was quite pleased. Weston's no end of a good sort, and we--that is Mabel and I--have known him almost as long as we have you, Vance. Marr's all right, and deuced rich from all one hears. But I don't want such an old chap as a brother-in-law, for all his thousands of pounds."