He would telegraph Scotland Yard again, and, incidentally, demand an audience at the post office.
No sooner had he entered the highroad than he saw P.C.Robinson on guard.
That important person was standing on the bridge, apparently taking the air.

He was nibbling the chin-strap of his helmet; both thumbs were locked in his belt.

From that strategic position three roads came under observation.
It was a fine morning, and Grant's sense of humor was not proof against this open espionage.

He smiled, and determined to take a rise out of "Sherlock," as Bates had christened the policeman.
The bridge lay a hundred yards to the left.

The road was straight until it curved around the house and its shrubberies, so the view was blocked on that side.