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“In its proper place, perhaps. But I want to look over the outside, uninfluenced. Five minutes’ talk with a man in Campe’s state of mind might colour one’s thoughts to such an extent that it would be difficult to see anything except with his eyes.”

“That sounds sensible enough,” agreed Bat. “And if there’s anything in the world you don’t want to get doing, it’s seeing things as he sees them.”

They followed the narrow road for some distance, and then the big man turned off into a path which led through a stretch of farm land.

“This is a short cut,” said he. “I followed it frequently when I was out with the gun. It’ll bring us to a road a bit beyond this wood; and the road leads on to the inn.”

A hundred yards further on they topped the crest of a hill; before them loomed a dense growth of trees which covered the slopes round about.

“It’s a fine kind of a place in summer, I should think,” said Scanlon, as they halted. “But of an autumn night when the air gets chill, the stars look far away, and there’s a pretty well settled belief that some queer things are about, it’s got its weak side. When I was staying in Canyon, I swore in as a deputy one night and started out into the hills with the magistrate to look for two lads who’d held up a train and got away with a bag full of money. That country was much wilder than this, and was further away from anywhere; but,” with a look at the gloomy wooded slopes, “believe me, it couldn’t compare with this for that uncertain feeling.”