He presently went away hoping that the oak stick had fallen into a crevice of the rocks or amongst the brambles which grew out of them; there was a lot of tangle-wood about that spot, and it was quite possible that the stick, kicked violently away, had fallen where it would never be discovered.

And--there was yet a chance for him to make that possible discovery impossible.

Now that the body had been found, he himself could visit the spot with safety, on the pretext of curiosity.
He could look round; if he found the stick he could drop it into a safe fissure of the rocks, or make away with it.

It was a good notion--and instead of going home to lunch Mallalieu turned into a private room of the Highmarket Arms, ate a sandwich and drank a glass of ale, and hurried off, alone, to the moors.
The news of this second mysterious death flew round Highmarket and the neighbourhood like wild-fire.

Brereton heard of it during the afternoon, and having some business in the town in connexion with Harborough's defence, he looked in at the police-station and found the superintendent in an unusually grave and glum mood.
"This sort of thing's getting beyond me, Mr.Brereton," he said in a whisper.