Publisher's Synopsis
The 4.15 from Victoria to Lewes had been held up at Three Bridges in consequence of aderailment and, though John Lexman was fortunate enough to catch a belated connection toBeston Tracey, the wagonette which was the sole communication between the village andthe outside world had gone."If you can wait half an hour, Mr. Lexman," said the station-master, "I will telephone up tothe village and get Briggs to come down for you."John Lexman looked out upon the dripping landscape and shrugged his shoulders."I'll walk," he said shortly and, leaving his bag in the station-master's care and buttoninghis mackintosh to his chin, he stepped forth resolutely into the rain to negotiate the twomiles which separated the tiny railway station from Little Tracey.The downpour was incessant and likely to last through the night. The high hedges oneither side of the narrow road were so many leafy cascades; the road itself was in placesankle deep in mud. He stopped under the protecting cover of a big tree to fill and light hispipe and with its bowl turned downwards continued his walk. But for the driving rainwhich searched every crevice and found every chink in his waterproof armor, he preferred, indeed welcomed, the walk.The road from Beston Tracey to Little Beston was associated in his mind with some ofthe finest situations in his novels. It was on this road that he had conceived "The TilburyMystery." Between the station and the house he had woven the plot which had made"Gregory Standish" the most popular detective story of the year. For John Lexman was amaker of cunning plots.If, in the literary world, he was regarded by superior persons as a writer of "shockers,"he had a large and increasing public who were fascinated by the wholesome and thrillingstories he wrote, and who held on breathlessly to the skein of mystery until they came tothe denouement he had planned.