Explore "The Templeton Case" by Victor L. Whitechurch on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Harold Grayson came down to breakfast on the Tuesday morning in the little cottage where he had found a lodging in the downland village of Linderton, some four or five miles north of Frattenbury, profoundly oblivious of the fact that the stolid-looking policeman who was digging in his garden directly opposite his lodgings had been, according to orders, watching the house all night and was yawning heavily at the prospect of the snooze he would take when the promised relief came that morning.
For although Harold Grayson had escaped detection for the moment by riding round Frattenbury instead of through it on his way to the downs, the net which the superintendent had quietly spread had soon closed in upon him. That stolid village policeman, Constable Drake, to wit, already had a description of the fugitive in his pocket, and when Grayson had alighted from his bicycle the evening before and asked him where he could get a bed, Drake had recognised the quarry at once.