THE

CHESTERMARKE

INSTINCT

THE MYSTERY STORIES OF

J. S. FLETCHER

"_We always feel as though we were really spreading happiness when wecan announce a genuinely satisfactory mystery story, such as J. B. Fletcher's new one. _"--N. P. D. In the New York Globe. 

THE MIDDLE TEMPLE MURDER [1918]

"Unquestionably, the detective story of the season and, therefore, onewhich no lover of detective fiction should miss. "--_The Broadside. _

THE TALLEYRAND MAXIM [1920]

"A crackerjack mystery tale; the story of Linford Pratt, who earnestlydesired to get on in life, by hook or by crook--with no objectionwhatever to crookedness, so long as it could be performed in safety andsecrecy. "--_Knickerbocker Press. _

THE PARADISE MYSTERY [1920]

"As a weaver of detective tales Mr. Fletcher is entitled to a seat amongthe elect. His numerous followers will find his latest book fully asabsorbing as anything from his pen that has previously appeared. "--_NewYork Times. _

DEAD MEN'S MONEY [1920]

"The story is one that holds the reader with more than the mere interestof sensational events: Mr. Fletcher writes in a notable style, and hehas a knack for sketching character rapidly. Reminds one ofStevenson--and Mr. Fletcher sustains the comparison well. "--_NewarkEvening News. _

THE ORANGE-YELLOW DIAMOND [1921]

". . . A rattling good yarn. . . . The excellence of The Orange yellowDiamond does not depend, however, entirely upon its plot. It is anuncommonly well written tale. "--_New York Times. _

_To be published July 1st, 1921:_

THE BOROUGH TREASURER

Blackmail, murder and the secret of an ancient quarry go to make a veryexciting yarn. 

_$2. 00 net each at all booksellers or from the Publisher_

ALFRED A. KNOPF, New York. 

THE

CHESTERMARKE

INSTINCT

BYJ. S. FLETCHER

NEW YORKALFRED A KNOPFMCMXXI

COPYRIGHT, 1921, BYALFRED A. KNOPF, INC. PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS

 CHAPTER

 I. The Missing Bank Manager, 9

 II. The Ellersdeane Deposit, 19

 III. Mr. Chestermarke Disclaims Liability, 29

 IV. The Modern Young Woman, 39

 V. The Search Begins, 49

 VI. Ellersdeane Hollow, 59

 VII. The Travelling Tinker, 69

 VIII. The Saturday Night Stranger, 79

 IX. No Further Information, 89

 X. The Chestermarke Way, 99

 XI. The Search-Warrant, 109

 XII. The First Find, 119

 XIII. The Partners Unbend, 129

 XIV. The Midnight Summons, 139

 XV. Mr. Frederick Hollis, 149

 XVI. The Lead Mine, 159

 XVII. Accident or Murder? 170

 XVIII. The Incomplete Cheque, 179

 XIX. The Dead Man's Brother, 189

 XX. The Other Cheque, 200

 XXI. About Cent per Cent, 209

 XXII. Speculation--and Certainty, 221

 XXIII. The Aggrieved Victim, 230

 XXIV. Mrs. Carswell? 240

 XXV. The Portrait, 248

 XXVI. The Lightning Flash, 257

 XXVII. The Old Dove-Cot, 266

 XXVIII. Sound-Proof, 273

 XXIX. The Sparrows and the Sphere, 279

 XXX. Wreckage, 289

 XXXI. The Prisoner Speaks, 295

CHAPTER I

THE MISSING BANK MANAGER

Every Monday morning, when the clock of the old parish church inScarnham Market-Place struck eight, Wallington Neale asked himself whyon earth he had chosen to be a bank clerk. On all the other mornings ofthe week this question never occurred to him: on Sunday he never alloweda thought of the bank to cross his mind: from Sunday to Saturday he wasfirmly settled in the usual rut, and never dreamed of tearing himselfout of it. But Sunday's break was unsettling: there was always an effortin starting afresh on Monday. The striking of St. Alkmund's clock ateight on Monday morning invariably found him sitting down to hisbreakfast in his rooms, overlooking the quaint old Market-Place, oncemore faced by the fact that a week of dull, uninteresting work laybefore him. He would go to the bank at nine, and at the bank he wouldremain, more or less, until five. He would do that again on Tuesday, andon Wednesday, and on Thursday and on Friday, and on Saturday. Oneafternoon, strolling in the adjacent country, he had seen a horsewalking round and round and round in a small paddock, turning a crankwhich worked some machine or other in an adjoining shed: that horse hadsomehow suggested himself to himself. 

On this particular Monday morning, Neale, happening to catch sight ofhis reflection in the mirror which stood on his parlour mantelpiece, propounded the usual question with added force. There were reasons. Itwas a beautiful morning. It was early spring. There was a blue sky, andthe rooks and jackdaws were circling in a clear air about the churchtower and over the old Market-Cross. He could hear thrushes singing inthe trees in the Vicarage garden, close by. Everything was young. And hewas young. It would have been affectation on his part to deny either hisyouth or his good looks. He glanced at his mirrored self without pride, but with due recognition of his good figure, his strong muscles, hishandsome, boyish face, with its cluster of chestnut hair and steady greyeyes. All that, he knew, wanted life, animation, movement. Attwenty-three he was longing for something to take him out of thetreadmill round in which he had been fixed for five years. He had notaste for handing out money in exchange for cheques, in posting upledgers, in writing dull, formal letters. He would have been muchhappier with an old flannel shirt, open at the throat, a pick in hishands, making a new road in a new country, or in driving a path throughsome primeval wood. There would have been liberty in either occupation:he could have flung down the pick at any moment and taken up thehunter's gun: he could have turned right or left at his own will in theunexplored forest. But there at the bank it was just doing the samething over and over again: what he had done last week he would do againthis week: what had happened last year would happen again this year. Itwas all pure, unadulterated, dismal monotony. 

Like most things, it had come about without design: he had just driftedinto it. His father and mother had both died when he was a boy; he hadinherited a small property which brought in precisely one hundred andfifty pounds a year: it was tied up to him in such a fashion that hewould have his three pounds a week as long as ever he lived. But as hisguardian, Mr. John Horbury, the manager of Chestermarke's Bank atScarnham, pointed out to him when he left school, he needed more thanthree pounds a week if he wished to live comfortably and like agentleman. Still, a hundred and fifty a year of sure and settled incomewas a fine thing, an uncommonly fine thing--all that was necessary wasto supplement it. Therefore--a nice, quiet, genteel profession--banking, to wit. Light work, an honourable calling, an eminently respectable one. In a few years he would have another hundred and fifty a year: a fewyears more, and he would be a manager, with at least six hundred: hemight, well before he was a middle-aged man, be commanding a salary of athousand a year. Banking, by all means, counselled Mr. Horbury--andoffered him a vacancy which had just then arisen at Chestermarke's. AndNeale, willing to be guided by a man for whom he had much respect, tookthe post, and settled down in the old bank in the quiet, sleepymarket-town, wherein one day was precisely like another day--and everyyear his dislike for his work increased, and sometimes grew unbearablykeen, especially when spring skies and spring air set up a suddenstirring in his blood. On this Monday morning that stirring amounted tosomething very like a physical ache. 

"Hang the old bank!" he muttered. "I'd rather be a ploughman!"

Nevertheless, the bank must be attended, and, at ten minutes to nine, Neale lighted a cigarette, put on his hat, and strolled slowly acrossthe Market-Place. Although he knew every single one of its cobblestones, every shop window, every landmark in it, that queer old square alwaysfascinated him. It was a bit of old England. The ancient church andequally ancient Moot Hall spread along one side of it; the other threesides were filled with gabled and half-timbered houses; the Market-Crosswhich stood in the middle of the open space had been erected there inHenry the Seventh's time. Amidst all the change and development of thenineteenth century, Scarnham had been left untouched: even the bankitself was a time-worn building, and the manager's house which flankedit was still older. Underneath all these ancient structures were queernooks and corners, secret passages and stairs, hiding-places, cellaringsgoing far beneath the gardens at the backs of the houses: Neale, as aboy, had made many an exploration in them, especially beneath thebank-house, which was a veritable treasury of concealed stairways andcunningly contrived doors in the black oak of the panellings. 

But on this occasion Neale did not stare admiringly at the old church, nor at the pilastered Moot Hall, nor at the toppling gables: his eyeswere fixed on something else, something unusual. As soon as he walkedout of the door of the house in which he lodged he saw his twofellow-clerks, Shirley and Patten, standing on the steps of the hall bywhich entrance was joined to the bank and to the bank-house. They stoodthere looking about them. Now they looked towards Finkleway--a narrowstreet which led to the railway station at the far end of the town. Nowthey looked towards Middlegate--a street which led into the opencountry, in the direction of Ellersdeane, where Mr. GabrielChestermarke, senior proprietor of the bank, resided. All that wasunusual. If Patten, a mere boy, had been lounging there, Neale would nothave noticed it. But it was Shirley's first duty, on arriving everymorning, to get the keys at the house door, and to let himself into thebank by the adjoining private entrance. It was Patten's duty, onarrival, to take the letter-bag to the post-office and bring the bank'scorrespondence back in it. Never, in all his experience, had Neale seenany of Chestermarke's clerks lounging on the steps at nine o'clock inthe morning, and he quickened his pace. Shirley, turning from aprolonged stare towards Finkleway, caught sight of him. 

"Can't get in, " he observed laconically, in answer to Neale's inquiringlook. "Mr. Horbury isn't there, and he's got the keys. "

"What do you mean--isn't there!" asked Neale, mounting the steps. "Notin the house?"

"Mean just what I say, " replied Shirley. "Mrs. Carswell says she hasn'tseen him since Saturday. She thinks he's been week-ending. I've beenlooking out for him coming along from the station. But if he came in bythe 8. 30, he's a long time getting up here. And if he hasn't come bythat, there's no other train till the 10. 45. "

Neale made no answer. He, too, glanced towards Finkleway, and then atthe church clock. It was just going to strike nine--and the station wasonly eight minutes away at the most. He passed the two junior clerks, went down the hall to the door of the bank-house, and entered. And justwithin he came face to face with the housekeeper, Mrs. Carswell. 

Mrs. Carswell had kept house for Mr. John Horbury for some years--Nealeremembered her from boyhood. He had always been puzzled about her age. Of late, since he knew more of grown-up folk, he had been still morepuzzled. Sometimes he thought she was forty; sometimes he was sure shecould not be more than thirty-two or three. Anyway, she was a fine, handsome woman--tall, perfectly shaped, with glossy black hair and darkeyes, and a firm, resolute mouth. It was rarely that Mrs. Carswell wentout; when she did, she was easily the best-looking woman in Scarnham. Few Scarnham people, however, had the chance of cultivating heracquaintance; Mrs. Carswell kept herself to herself and seemed contentto keep up her reputation as a model housekeeper. She ordered Mr. Horbury's domestic affairs in perfect fashion, and it had come uponNeale as a surprise to hear Shirley say that Mrs. Carswell did not knowwhere the manager was. 

"What's all this?" he demanded, as he met her within the hall. "Shirleysays Mr. Horbury isn't at home? Where is he, then?"

"But I don't know, Mr. Neale, " replied the housekeeper. "I know no morethan you do. I've been expecting him to come in by that 8. 30 train, buthe can't have done that, or he'd have been up here by now. "

"Perhaps it's late, " suggested Neale. 

"No--it's in, " she said. "I saw it come in from my window, at the back. It was on time. So--I don't know what's become of him. "

"But--what about Saturday?" asked Neale. "Shirley says you said Mr. Horbury went off on Saturday. Didn't he leave any word--didn't he saywhere he was going?"

"Mr. Horbury went out on Saturday evening, " answered Mrs. Carswell. "Hedidn't say a word about where he was going. He went out just beforedusk, as if for a walk. I'd no idea that he wasn't at home until Sundaymorning. You see, the servants and I went to bed at our usual time onSaturday night, and though he wasn't in then, I thought nothing of it, because, of course, he'd his latch-key. He was often out late at night, as you know, Mr. Neale. And when I found that he hadn't come back, as Idid find out before breakfast yesterday, I thought nothing of thateither--I thought he'd gone to see some friend or other, and had beenpersuaded to stop the night. Then, when he didn't come home yesterday atall, I thought he was staying the week-end somewhere. So I wasn'tanxious, nor surprised. But I am surprised he's not back here firstthing this morning. "

"So am I, " agreed Neale. "And more than surprised. " He stood for amoment, running over the list of the manager's friends and acquaintancesin the neighbourhood, and he shook his head as he came to the end of hismental reckoning of it. "It's very odd, " he remarked. "Very surprising, Mrs. Carswell. "

"It's all the more surprising, " remarked the housekeeper, "because ofhis going off for his holiday tomorrow. And Miss Fosdyke's coming downfrom London today to go with him. "

Neale pricked his ears. Miss Fosdyke was the manager's niece--a younglady whom Neale remembered as a mere slip of a girl that he had metyears before and never seen since. 

"I didn't know that, " he remarked. 

"Neither did Mr. Horbury until Saturday afternoon--that is, forcertain, " said Mrs. Carswell. "He'd asked her to go with him to Scotlandon this holiday, but it wasn't settled. However, he got a wire from her, about tea-time on Saturday, to say she'd go, and would be down heretoday. They're to start tomorrow morning. "

Neale turned to the door. He was distinctly puzzled and uneasy. He hadknown John Horbury since his own childhood, and had always regarded himas the personification of everything that was precise, systematic, andregular. All things considered, it was most remarkable that he shouldnot be at the bank at opening hours. And already a vague suspicion thatsomething had happened began to steal into his mind. 

"Did you happen to notice which way he went, Mrs. Carswell?" he asked. "Was it towards the station?"

"He went out down the garden and through the orchard, " replied thehousekeeper. "He could have got to the station that way, of course. ButI do know that he never said a word about going anywhere by train, andhe'd no bag or anything with him--he'd nothing but that old oak stick hegenerally carried when he went out for his walks. "

Neale pushed open the house door and went into the outer hall to thejunior clerks. Little as he cared about banking as a calling, he waspunctilious about rules and observances, and it seemed to him somewhatindecorous that the staff of a bank should hang about its front door, asif they were workshop assistants awaiting the arrival of a belatedforeman. 

"Better come inside the house, Shirley, " he said. "Patten, you go to thepost-office and get the letters. "

"No good without the bag, " answered Patten, a calm youth of seventeen. "Tried that once before. Don't you know!--they've one key--we'veanother. "

"Well, come inside, then, " commanded Neale. "It doesn't look well tohang about those steps. "

"Might just as well go away, " muttered Shirley, stepping into the hall. "If Horbury's got to come back by train from wherever he's gone to, hecan't get here till the 10. 45, and then he's got to walk up. Might aswell go home for an hour. "

"The partners'll be here before an hour's over, " said Neale. "One ofthem's always here by ten. "

Shirley, a somewhat grumpy-countenanced young man, made no answer. Hebegan to pace the hall with looks of eminent dissatisfaction. But he hadonly taken a turn or two when a quietly appointed one-horse coupébrougham came up to the open door, and a well-known face was seen at itswindow. Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke, senior proprietor, had come an hourbefore his time. 

CHAPTER II

THE ELLERSDEANE DEPOSIT

Had the three young men waiting in that hall not been so familiar withhim by reason of daily and hourly acquaintance, the least observantamongst them would surely have paused in whatever task he was busiedwith, if Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke had crossed his path for the firsttime. The senior partner of Chestermarke's Bank was a noticeable person. Wallington Neale, who possessed some small gift of imagination, alwaysfelt that his principal suggested something more than was accounted forby his mere presence. He was a little, broadly built man, somewhatinclined to stoutness, who carried himself in very upright fashion, andhabitually wore the look of a man engaged in operations of serious andfar-reaching importance, further heightened by an air of reserve and atrick of sparingness in speech. But more noticeable than anything elsein Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke was his head, a member of his body which wasmuch out of proportion to the rest of it. It was a very big, well-shapedhead, on which, out of doors, invariably rested the latest-styled andglossiest of silk hats--no man had ever seen Gabriel Chestermarke in anyother form of head-gear, unless it was in a railway carriage, there hecondescended to assume a checked cap. Underneath the brim of the silkhat looked out a countenance as remarkable as the head of which it wasa part. A broad, smooth forehead, a pair of large, deep-set eyes, thepupils of which were black as sloes, a prominent, slightly hooked nose, a firm, thin-lipped mouth, a square, resolute jaw--these features werethrown into prominence by the extraordinary pallor of Mr. Chestermarke'sface, and the dark shade of the hair which framed it. That black hair, those black eyes, burning always with a strange, slumbering fire, thecolourless cheeks, the vigorous set of the lips, these made an effect onall who came in contact with the banker which was of a not whollycomfortable nature. It was as if you were talking to a statue ratherthan to a fellow-creature. 

Mr. Chestermarke stepped quietly from his brougham and walked up thesteps. He was one of those men who are never taken aback and never showsurprise, and as his eyes ran over the three young men, there was nosign from him that he saw anything out of the common. But he turned toNeale, as senior clerk, with one word. 

"Well?"

Neale glanced uncomfortably at the house door. "Mr. Horbury is not athome, " he answered. "He has the keys. "

Mr. Chestermarke made no reply. His hand went to his waistcoat pocket, his feet moved lower down the hall to a side-door sacred to thepartners. He produced a key, opened the door, and motioned the clerks toenter. Once within, he turned into the partners' room. Five minutespassed before his voice was heard. 

"Neale!"

Neale hurried in and found the banker standing on the hearth-rug, beneath the portrait of a former Chestermarke, founder of the bank in abygone age. He was suddenly struck by the curious resemblance betweenthat dead Chestermarke and the living one, and he wondered that he hadnever seen it before. But Mr. Chestermarke gave him no time forspeculation. 

"Where is Mr. Horbury?" he asked. 

Neale told all he knew: the banker listened in his usual fashion, keeping his eyes steadily fixed on his informant. When Neale hadfinished, Mr. Chestermarke shook his head. 

"If Horbury had meant to come into town by the 8. 30 train and had missedit, " he remarked, "he would have wired or telephoned by this. Telephoned, of course: there are telephones at every station on thatbranch line. Very well, let things go on. "

Neale went out and set his fellow-clerks to the usual routine. Pattenwent for the letters. Neale carried them into the partners' room. At teno'clock the street door was opened. A customer or two began to drop in. The business of the day had begun. It went on just as it would have goneon if Mr. Horbury had been away on holiday. And at half-past ten inwalked the junior partner, Mr. Joseph Chestermarke. 

Mr. Joseph was the exact opposite of his uncle. He was so much hisopposite that it was difficult to believe, seeing them together, thatthey were related to each other. Mr. Joseph Chestermarke, a man ofapparently thirty years of age, was tall and loose of figure, easy ofdemeanour, and a little untidy in his dress. He wore a not overwell-fitting tweed suit, a slouch hat, a flannel shirt. His brown beardusually needed trimming; he affected loose, flowing neckties, moresuited to an artist than to a banker. His face was amiable inexpression, a little weak, a little speculative. All thesecharacteristics came out most strongly when he and his uncle were seenin company: nothing could be more in contrast to the precise severity ofGabriel than the somewhat slovenly carelessness of Joseph. Joseph, indeed, was the last man in the world that any one would ever haveexpected to see in charge and direction of a bank, and there were peoplein Scarnham who said that he was no more than a lay-figure, and thatGabriel Chestermarke did all the business. 

The junior partner passed through the outer room, nodding affably to theclerks and went into the private parlour. Several minutes elapsed: thena bell rang. Neale answered it, and Shirley and Patten glanced at eachother and shook their heads: already they scented an odour of suspicionand uncertainty. 

"What's up?" whispered Patten, leaning forward over his desk to Shirley, who stood between it and the counter. "Something wrong?"

"Something that Gabriel doesn't like, anyhow, " muttered Shirley. "Didyou see his eyes when Neale said that Horbury wasn't here? If Horburydoesn't turn up by this next train--ah!"

"Think he's sloped?" asked Patten, already seething with boyish desireof excitement. "Done a bunk with the money?"

But Shirley shook his head at the closed door through which Neale hadvanished. 

"They're carpeting Neale about it, anyhow, " he answered. "Gabriel'llwant to know the whys and wherefores, you bet. But Neale won't tell usanything--he's too thick with Horbury. "

Neale, entering the partners' room, found them in characteristicattitudes. The senior partner sat at his desk, stern, upright, his eyesburning a little more fiercely than usual: the junior, his slouch hatstill on his head, his hands thrust in his pockets, lounged against themantelpiece, staring at his uncle. 

"Now, Neale, " said Gabriel Chestermarke. "What do you know about this?Have you any idea where Mr. Horbury is?"

"None, " replied Neale. "None whatever!"

"When did you see him last?" demanded Gabriel. "You often see him out ofbank hours, I know. "

"I last saw him here at two o'clock on Saturday, " replied Neale. "I havenot seen him since. "

"And you never heard him mention that he was thinking of going away forthe week-end?" asked Gabriel. 

"No!" replied Neale. 

He made his answer tersely and definitely, having an idea that thesenior partner looked at him as if he thought that something was beingkept back. And Gabriel, after a moment's pause, shifted some of thepapers on his desk, with an impatient movement. 

"Ask Mr. Horbury's housekeeper to step in here for a few minutes, " hesaid. 

Neale went out by the private door, and presently returned with Mrs. Carswell. 

By that time Joseph had lounged over to his own desk and seated himself, and when the housekeeper came in he tilted his chair back and sat idlyswaying in it while he watched her and his uncle. But Gabriel, wavingMrs. Carswell to a seat, remained upright as ever, and as he turned tothe housekeeper, he motioned Neale to stay in the room. 

"Just tell us all you know about Mr. Horbury's movements on Saturdayafternoon and evening, Mrs. Carswell, " he said. "This is a mostextraordinary business altogether, and I want to account for it. You sayhe went out just about dusk. "

Mrs. Carswell repeated the story which she had told to Neale. The twopartners listened; Gabriel keenly attentive; Joseph as if he were nomore than mildly interested. 

"Odd!" remarked Gabriel, when the story had come to an end. "Moststrange! Very well--thank you, Mrs. Carswell. Neale, " he added, when thehousekeeper had gone away, "Mr. Horbury always carried the moreimportant keys on him, didn't he?"

"Always, " responded Neale. 

"Very good! Let things go on, " said Gabriel. "But don't come botheringme or Mr. Joseph Chestermarke unless you're obliged to. Of course, Mr. Horbury may come in by the next train. That'll do, Neale. "

Neale went back to the outer room. Things went on, but the missingmanager did not come in by the 10. 45, and nothing had been heard or seenof him at noon, when Patten went to get his dinner. Nor had anythingbeen seen or heard at one o'clock, when Patten came back, and it becameShirley and Neale's turn to go out. And thereupon arose a difficulty. Inthe ordinary course the two elder clerks would have left for an hour andthe manager would have been on duty until they returned. But now themanager was not there. 

"You go, " said Neale to Shirley. "I'll wait. Perhaps Mr. Joseph willcome out. "

Shirley went--but neither of the partners emerged from the private room. As a rule they both went across to the Scarnham Arms Hotel at half-pastone for lunch--a private room had been kept for them at that old-worldhostelry from time immemorial--but now they remained within theirparlour, apparently interned from their usual business world. And Nealehad a very good idea of what they were doing. The bank's strong room wasentered from that parlour--Gabriel and Joseph were examining andchecking its contents. The knowledge distressed Neale beyond measure, and it was only by a resolute effort that he could give his mind to hisduties. 

Two o'clock had gone, and Shirley had come back, before the bell rangagain. Neale went into the private room and knew at once that somethinghad happened. Gabriel stood by his desk, which was loaded with papersand documents; Joseph leaned against a sideboard, whereon was a decanterof sherry and a box of biscuits; he had a glass of wine in one hand, anda half-nibbled biscuit in the other. The smell of the sherry--fine oldbrown stuff, which the clerks were permitted to taste now and then, onsuch occasions as the partners' birthdays--filled the room. 

"Neale, " said Gabriel, "have you been out to lunch? No? Take a glass ofwine and eat a biscuit--we shall all have to put off our lunches for anhour or so. "

Neale obeyed--more because he was under order than because he washungry. He was too much bothered, too full of vague fears, to think ofhis midday dinner. He took the glass which Joseph handed to him, andpicked a couple of biscuits out of the box. And at the first sip Gabrielspoke again. 

"Neale!" he said. "You've been here five years, so one can speakconfidentially. There's something wrong--seriously wrong. Securities aremissing. Securities representing--a lot!"

Neale's face flushed as if he himself had been charged with abstractingthose securities. His hand shook as he set down his glass, and he lookedhelplessly from one partner to another. Joseph merely shook his head, and poured out another glass of sherry for himself: Gabriel shook hishead, too, but with a different expression. 

"We don't know exactly how things are, " he continued. "But there's thefact--on a superficial examination. And--Horbury! Of all men in theworld, Horbury!"

"I can't believe it, Mr. Chestermarke!" exclaimed Neale. "Surely, sir, there's some mistake!"

Joseph brushed crumbs of biscuit off his beard and wagged his head. 

"No mistake!" he said softly. "None! The thing is--what's best to do?Because--he'd have laid his plans. It'll all have been thoughtout--carefully. "

"I'm afraid so, " assented Gabriel. "That's the worst of it. Everythingpoints to premeditation. And when a man has been so fully trusted----"

A knock at the door prefaced the introduction of Shirley's head. Heglanced into the room with an obvious desire to see what was going on, but somehow contrived to fix his eyes on the senior partner. 

"Lord Ellersdeane, sir, " he announced. "Can he see you?"

The two partners looked at each other in evident surprise; then Gabrielmoved to the door and bowed solemnly to some person outside. 

"Will your lordship come in?" he said politely. 

Lord Ellersdeane, a big, bustling, country-squire type of man, came intothe room, nodding cheerily to its occupants. 

"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Chestermarke, " he said. "I understand Horburyisn't at home, but of course you'll do just as well. The Countess and Ionly got back from abroad night before last. She wants her jewels, soI'll take 'em with me, if you please. "

Gabriel Chestermarke, who was drawing forward a chair, took his hand offit and stared at his visitor. 

"The Countess's--jewels!" he said. "Does your lordship mean----"

"Deposited them with Horbury, you know, some weeks ago--when we wentabroad, " replied Lord Ellersdeane. "Safe keeping, you know--said he'dlock 'em up. "

Gabriel turned slowly to Joseph. But Joseph shook his head--and Neale, glancing from one partner to the other, felt himself turning sick withapprehension. 

CHAPTER III

MR. CHESTERMARKE DISCLAIMS LIABILITY

Gabriel Chestermarke, after that one look at his nephew, turned again tothe Earl, politely motioning him to the chair which he had already drawnforward. And the Earl, whose eyes had been wandering over the pile ofdocuments on the senior partner's desk, glancing curiously at the opendoor of the strong room, and generally taking in a sense of some unusualoccurrence, dropped into it and looked expectantly at the banker. 

"There's nothing wrong?" he asked suddenly. "You look--surprised. "

Gabriel stiffened his already upright figure. 

"Surprised--yes!" he answered. "And something more than surprised--I amastonished! Your lordship left the Countess's jewels with our manager?May I ask when--and under what circumstances?"

"About six weeks ago, " replied the Earl promptly. "As a rule the jewelsare kept at my bankers in London. The Countess wanted them to wear atthe Hunt Ball, so I fetched them from London myself. Then, as we weregoing off to the Continent two days after the ball, and sailing directfrom Kingsport to Hamburg, I didn't want the bother of going up to townwith them, and I thought of Horbury. So I drove in here with them oneevening--the night before we sailed, as a matter of fact--and asked himto lock them up until our return. And as I said just now, we only gothome the night before last, and we're going up to town tomorrow, and theCountess wants them to take with her. Of course, you've got 'em allright?"

Gabriel Chestermarke spread out his hands. 

"I know nothing whatever about them!" he said. "I never heard of thembeing here. "

"Nor I, " affirmed Joseph. "Not a word!"

Gabriel looked at Neale, and drew Lord Ellersdeane's attention to him. 

"Our senior clerk--Mr. Neale, " he said. "Neale--have you heard of thistransaction?"

"Never!" replied Neale. "Mr. Horbury never mentioned it to me. "

Gabriel waved his hand towards the open door of the strong room. 

"Any valuables of that sort would have been in there, " he remarked. "There is nothing of that sort there--beyond what I and my nephew knowof. I am sure your lordship's jewels are not there. "

"But--Horbury?" exclaimed the Earl. "Where is he? He would tell you!"

"We don't know where Mr. Horbury is, " answered Gabriel "The truth may aswell be told--he's missing. And so are some of our most valuablesecurities. "

The Earl slowly looked from one partner to another. His face flushed, almost as hotly as if he himself had been accused of theft. 

"Oh, come!" he said. "Horbury, now, of all men! Come--come!--you don'tmean to tell me that Horbury's been playing games of that sort? Theremust be some mistake. "

"I shall be glad to be assured that I am making it, " said Gabrielcoolly. "But it will be more to the purpose if your lordship will tellus all about the deposit of these jewels. And--there's an importantmatter which I must first mention. We have not the honour of reckoningyour lordship among our customers. Therefore, whatever you handed toHorbury was handed to him privately--not to us. "

Joseph Chestermarke nodded his head at that, and the Earl stirred alittle uneasily in his chair. 

"Oh, well!" he said. "I--to tell you the truth, I didn't think aboutthat, Mr. Chestermarke. It's true I don't keep any account withyou--it's never seemed--er, necessary, you know. But, of course, I knewHorbury so well--he's a member of our golf club and our archæologicalsociety--that----"

"Precisely, " interrupted Gabriel, with a bow. "You came to Mr. Horburyprivately. Not to the firm. "

"I came to him knowing that he was your manager, and a man to bethoroughly trusted, and that he'd have safes and things in which hecould deposit valuables in perfect safety, " answered the Earl. "I neverreflected for a moment on the niceties of the matter. I just explainedto him that I wanted those jewels taken care of, and handed them over. That's all!"

"And--their precise nature?" asked Gabriel. 

"And--their value?" added Joseph. 

"As to their nature, " replied the Earl, "there was my wife's coronet, her diamond necklace, and the Ellersdeane butterfly, of which I supposeall the world's heard--heirloom, you know. It's a thing that can be wornin a lady's hair or as a pendant--diamonds, of course. As to theirvalue--well, I had them valued some years ago. They're worth about ahundred thousand pounds. "

Gabriel turned to his desk and began to arrange some papers on it, andNeale, who was watching everything with close attention, saw that hisfingers trembled a little. He made no remark, and the silence was nextbroken by Joseph Chestermarke's soft accents. 

"Did Horbury give your lordship any receipt, or acknowledgment that hehad received these jewels on deposit?" he asked. "I mean, of course, inour name?"

The Earl twisted sharply in his chair, and Neale fancied that he saw ashade of annoyance pass over his good-natured face. 

"Certainly not!" he answered. "I should never have dreamt of asking fora receipt from a man whom I knew as well as I knew--or thought Iknew--Horbury. The whole thing was just as if--well, as if I should askany friend to take care of something for me for a while. "

"Did Horbury know what you were giving him?" asked Joseph. 

"Of course!" replied the Earl. "As a matter of fact, he'd never seenthese things, and I took them out of their case and showed them to him. "

"And he said he would lock them up?--in our strong room?" suggested thesoft voice. 

"He said nothing about your strong room, " answered the Earl. "Nor aboutwhere he'd put them. That was understood. It was understood--a tacitunderstanding--that he'd take care of them until our return. "

"Did your lordship give him the date of your return?" persisted Joseph, with the thorough-going air of a cross-examiner. 

"Yes--I told him exactly when we should be back, " replied the Earl. "Thetwelfth of May--day before yesterday. "

Joseph moved away from the sideboard towards the hearth, and leaningagainst the mantelpiece threw a glance at the strong room. 

"The jewels are not in our possession, " he said, half indolently. "Thereis nothing of that sort in there. There are two safes in the outer roomof the bank--I should say that Mr. Neale here knows everything that isin them. Do you know anything of these jewels, Neale?"

"Nothing!" said Neale. "I never heard of them. "

Gabriel looked up from his papers. 

"None of us have heard of them, " he remarked. "Horbury could not haveput them in this strong room without my knowledge. They are certainlynot there. The safes my nephew mentioned just now are used only forbooks and papers. Your lordship's casket is not in either. "

The Earl rose slowly from his chair. It was evident to Neale that he wasmore surprised than angry: he looked around him as a man looks whoseunderstanding is suddenly brought up against something unexplainable. 

"All I know is that I handed that casket to Mr. Horbury in his owndining-room one evening some weeks ago, " he said. "That's certain! So Inaturally expect to find it--here. "

"And it is not here--that is equally certain, " observed Gabriel. "Whatis also certain is that our manager--trusted in more than he should havebeen!--is missing, and many of our valuable securities with him. Therefore----"

He spread his hands again with an expressive gesture and once more bentover his papers. Once more there was silence. Then the Earl started--asif a thought had suddenly occurred to him. 

"I say!" he exclaimed, "don't you think Horbury may have put thosejewels away in his own house?"

Joseph Chestermarke smiled a little derisively. 

"A hundred thousand pounds' worth!" he said softly. "Not very likely!"

"But he may have a safe there, " urged the Earl. "Most people have a safein their houses nowadays--they're so handy, you know, and so cheap. Don't you think that may be it?"

"I am not familiar with Horbury's domestic arrangements, " said Gabriel. "I have not been in his house for some years. But as we are desirous ofgiving your lordship what assistance we can, we will go into the houseand see if there is anything of the sort. Just tell the housekeeper weare coming in, Neale. "

The Earl nodded to Mrs. Carswell as she received him and the twopartners in the adjacent hall. 

"This lady will remember my calling on Mr. Horbury one evening a fewweeks ago, " he said. "She saw me with him in that room. "

"Certainly!" assented Mrs. Carswell, readily enough. "I remember yourlordship calling on Mr. Horbury very well. One night after dinner--yourlordship was here an hour or so. "

Gabriel Chestermarke opened the door of the dining-room--anold-fashioned apartment which looked out on a garden and orchard at therear of the house. 

"Mrs. Carswell, " he said, as they all went in, "has Mr. Horbury a safein this room, or in any other room? You know what I mean. "

But the housekeeper shook her head. There was no safe in the house. There was a plate-chest--there it was, standing in a recess by thesideboard; she had the key of it. 

"Open that, at any rate, " commanded Gabriel. "It's about as unlikely asanything could be, but well leave nothing undone. "

There was nothing in the plate-chest but what Gabriel expected to findthere. He turned again to the housekeeper. 

"Is there anything in this house--cupboard, chest, trunk, anything--inwhich Mr. Horbury kept valuables?" he asked. "Any place in which he wasin the habit of locking up papers, for instance?"

Mrs. Carswell again shook her head. No, she knew of no such place orreceptacle. There was Mr. Horbury's desk, but she believed all itsdrawers were open. Her belief proved to be correct: Gabriel himselfopened drawer after drawer, and revealed nothing of consequence. Heturned to the Earl with another expressive spreading out of his hands. 

"I don't see what more we can do to assist your lordship, " he said. "Idon't know what more can be done. "

"The question is--so it seems to me--what is to be done, " replied theEarl, whose face had been gradually growing graver. "What, for instance, are you going to do, Mr. Chestermarke? Let us be plain with each other. You disclaim all liability in connection with my affair?"

"Most certainly!" exclaimed Gabriel. "We know nothing of thattransaction. As I have already said, if Horbury took charge of yourlordship's property, he did so as a private individual, not on ourbehalf, not in his capacity as our manager. If your lordship had been acustomer of ours----"

"That would have been a very different matter, " said Joseph. "But as wehave never had any dealings with your lordship----"

"We have, of course, no liability to you, " concluded Gabriel. "The trueposition of the case is that your lordship handed your property toHorbury as a friend, not as manager of Chestermarke's Bank. "

"Then let me ask you, what are you going to do?" said the Earl. "I mean, not about my affair, but about finding your manager?"

Gabriel looked at his nephew: Joseph shook his head. 

"So far, " said Joseph, "we have not quite considered that. We are notyet fully aware of how things stand. We have a pretty good idea, but itwill take another day. "

"You don't mean to tell me that you're going to let another day elapsebefore doing something?" exclaimed the Earl. "Bless my soul!--I'd havehad the hue and cry out before noon today, if I'd been you!"

"If you'd been Chestermarke's Bank, my lord, " remarked Joseph, in hissoftest manner, "that's precisely what you would not have done. We don'twant it noised all over the town and neighbourhood that our trustedmanager has suddenly run away with our money--and your jewels--in hispocket. "

There was a curious note--half-sneering, half-sinister--in the juniorpartner's quiet voice which made the Earl turn and look at him with asudden new interest. Before either could speak, Neale ventured to saywhat he had been wanting to say for half an hour. 

"May I suggest something, sir?" he said, turning to Gabriel. 

"Speak--speak!" assented Gabriel hastily. "Anything you like!"

"Mr. Horbury may have met with an accident, " said Neale. "He was fond oftaking his walks in lonely places--there are plenty outside the town. Hemay be lying somewhere even now--helpless. "

"Capital suggestion!--much obliged to you, " exclaimed the Earl. "Gad! Iwonder we never thought of that before! Much the most likely thing. Ican't believe that Horbury----"

Before he could say more, the door of the dining-room was thrown open, aclear, strong voice was heard speaking to some one without, and inwalked a handsome young woman, who pulled herself up on the threshold tostare out of a pair of frank grey eyes at the four startled men. 

CHAPTER IV

THE MODERN YOUNG WOMAN

Mrs. Carswell, who had left the gentlemen to themselves after openingthe plate-chest, followed the new-comer into the room and lookedappealingly at the senior partner. 

"This is Miss Fosdyke, sir, " she said, as if accounting for theunceremonious entrance. "Mr. Horbury's----"

But Miss Fosdyke, having looked round her, entered the arena ofdiscussion as abruptly as she had entered the room. 

"You're Mr. Chestermarke!" she said, turning to Gabriel. "I rememberyou. What's all this, Mr. Chestermarke? I come down from London to meetmy uncle, and to go on with him to Scotland for a holiday, and I learnthat he's disappeared! What is it? What has happened? Why are you alllooking so mysterious? Is something wrong? Where is my uncle?"

Gabriel, who had assumed his stereotyped expression of calm attentionunder this tornado of questions, motioned Joseph to place a chair forthe young lady. But Miss Fosdyke shook her head and returned to theattack. 

"Please don't keep anything back!" she said. "I am not of thefainting-to-order type of young woman. Just say what is the matter, ifyou please. Mrs. Carswell knows no more----"

"Than we do, " interrupted Joseph, with one of his peculiar smiles. "Hadn't you better sit down?"

"Not until I know what has happened, " retorted the visitor. "Because ifanything has happened there will be something for me to do, and it'sfoolish to sit down when one's got to get up again immediately. Mr. Chestermarke, are you going to answer my questions?"

Gabriel bowed stiffly. 

"I have the honour of addressing----" he began. 

"You have the honour--if you like to put it so--of addressing Miss BettyFosdyke, who is Mr. John Horbury's niece, " replied the young ladyimpatiently. "Mrs. Carswell has told you that already. Besides--you sawme, more than once, when I was a little girl. And that's not so verylong ago. Now, Mr. Chestermarke, where is my uncle?"

"I do not know where your uncle is, " replied Gabriel suddenly, andlosing his starchiness. "I wish to Heaven I did!"

"None of us know where Mr. John Horbury is, " repeated Joseph, in hissuavest tones. "We all wish to Heaven we did!"

The girl turned and gave the junior partner a look which took in everyinch of him. It was a look which began with a swift speculation andended in something very like distaste. But Joseph Chestermarke met itwith his usual quiet smile. 

"It would make such a lot of difference--if we knew!" he murmured. "Asit is--things are unpleasant. "

Miss Fosdyke finished her reflection and turned away. 

"I remember you now, " she said calmly. "You're Joseph Chestermarke. NowI will sit down. And I insist on being told--everything!"

"My dear young lady!" exclaimed Gabriel, "there is next to nothing totell. If you will have the unpleasant truth, here it is. Your uncle, whom we have trusted for more years than I care to mention, disappearedon Saturday evening, and nobody knows where he is, nor whither he went. All we know is that we find some of our property missing--valuablesecurities. And this gentleman--Lord Ellersdeane--tells us that sixweeks ago he entrusted jewels worth a hundred thousand pounds to youruncle's keeping--they, too, are missing. What can we think?"

The girl's face had flushed, and her brows had drawn together in anangry frown by the time Gabriel had finished, and Neale, silentlywatching her from the background, saw her fingers clench themselves. Shegave a swift glance at the Earl, and then fixed her eyes steadily onGabriel. 

"Are you telling me that my uncle is a--thief?" she demanded. "Are you, Mr. Chestermarke?"

"I'm not, anyhow!" exclaimed the Earl. "I--I--so far as I'm concerned, Isay there's some mistake. "

"Thank you!" she answered quietly. "But--you, Mr. Chestermarke?Come--I'm entitled to an answer. "

Gabriel showed signs of deep annoyance. He had the reputation of being aconfirmed woman-hater, and it was plain that he was ill at ease inpresence of this plain-spoken young person. 

"You appear to be a lady of much common sense!" he said. "Therefore----"

"I have some common sense, " interrupted Miss Fosdyke coolly. "And whatamount I possess tells me that I never heard anything more ridiculous inmy life than the suggestion that my uncle should steal anything fromanybody! Why, he was, and is, I hope, a fairly well-to-do man! And if hewanted money, he'd only to come to me. It so happens that I'm one of thewealthiest young women in England. If my uncle had wanted a fewthousands or tens of thousands to play ducks and drakes with, he'd onlyto ring me up on the telephone, and he'd have had whatever he asked forin a few hours. That's not boasting, Mr. Chestermarke--that's just plaintruth. My uncle a thief! Mr. Chestermarke!--there's only one word foryour suggestion. Don't think me rude if I tell you what it is. It's--bosh!"

Gabriel's colourless face twitched a little, and he drew himself up. 

"I have no acquaintance with modern young ladies, " he remarked icily. "Idaresay they have their own way of looking at things--and of expressingthemselves. I, too, have mine. Also I have my own conclusions, and----"

"I say, Mr. Chestermarke!" said the Earl, hastening to intervene in whatseemed likely to develop into a passage-at-arms. "We're forgetting thesuggestion made just before this lady--Miss Fosdyke, I think?--entered. Don't let's forget it--it's a good one. "

Miss Fosdyke turned eagerly to the Earl. 

"What suggestion was it?" she asked. "Do tell me? I'm sure you agreewith me--I can see you do. Thank you, again!"

"This gentleman, " said the Earl, pointing to Neale, who had retreatedinto a corner and was staring out of the window, "suggests that Horburymay have met with an accident, you know, and be lying helplesssomewhere. I sincerely hope he isn't but----"

Miss Fosdyke jumped from her chair. She turned an indignant look onGabriel and let it go on to Joseph. 

"You don't mean to tell me that you have not done anything to find myuncle?" she exclaimed with fiery emphasis. "You've surely had somesearch made?--surely!"

"We knew nothing of his disappearance until ten o'clock this morning, "replied Gabriel, half-angrily. 

"But--since then? Why, you've had five hours!" she said. "Has nothingbeen done? Haven't you even told the police?"

"Certainly not!" answered Gabriel. "It is not our policy. "

Miss Fosdyke made one step to the door and flung it open. 

"Then I shall!" she exclaimed. "Policy, indeed! High time I came downhere, I think! Thank you, Lord Ellersdeane--and the other gentleman--forthe suggestion. Now I'll go and act on it. And when I act, Mr. Chestermarke, I do it thoroughly!"

The next moment she had slammed the door, and Gabriel Chestermarkeglanced at his partner. 

"Annoying!" he said. "A most unpleasant young woman! I should havepreferred not to tell the police until--well, at any rate, tomorrow. Wereally do not know to what extent we are--but then, what's the use oftalking of that now? We can't prevent her going to the police-station. "

"Why, really, Mr. Chestermarke, " observed the Earl, "don't you thinkit's the best thing to do? To tell you the truth, considering that I'mconcerned, I was going to do the very same thing myself. "

Gabriel bowed stiffly. 

"We could not have prevented your lordship either, " he said, withanother wave of the white hands which seemed to go so well with thehabitual pallor of his face. "All that is within your lordship'sjurisdiction--not in ours. But--especially since this young lady seemsdetermined to do things in her way--I will tell your lordship why we areallow to move. It is purely a business reason. It was, as I said, teno'clock when we heard that Horbury was missing. That in itself was sucha very strange and unusual thing that my partner and I at once began toexamine the contents of our strong room. We had been so occupied fivehours when your lordship called. Do you think we could examineeverything in five hours? No--nor in ten, nor in twenty! Our task is notone quarter complete! And why we don't wish publicity at once inhere--we hold a vast number of securities and valuables belonging tocustomers. Title-deeds, mortgages--all sorts of things. We havevaluables deposited with us. Up to now we don't know what is safe andwhat isn't. We do know this--certain securities of our own, easilyconvertible on the market, are gone! Now if we had allowed it to beknown before, say, noon today, that our manager had disappeared, andthese securities with him, what would have been the result? The bankwould have been besieged! Before we let the public know, we ourselveswant to know exactly where we are. We want to be in a position to say toSmith, 'Your property is safe!'; to Jones, 'Your deeds are here!' Doesyour lordship see that? But now, of course, " concluded Gabriel, "as thisMiss Fosdyke can and will spread the news all over the town--why, wemust face things. "

The Earl, who had listened to all this with an evident desire tocomprehend and to sympathize, nodded his head. 

"I see--I see, Mr. Chestermarke, " he said. "But I say!--I've got anothernotion--I'm not a very quick thinker, and I daresay my idea came out ofMr. Neale's suggestion. Anyway, it's this--for whatever it's worth. Itold you that we only got home night before last--early on Saturdayevening, as a matter of fact. Now, it was known in the town here thatwe'd returned--we drove through the Market-Place. Mayn't it be thatHorbury saw us, or heard of our return, and that when he went out thatevening he had the casket in his pocket and was on his way toEllersdeane, to return it to me? And that--on his way--he met with somemishap? Worth considering, you know. "

"I daresay a great many theories might--and will--be raised, my lord, "replied Gabriel. "But----"

"Does your lordship also think--or suggest--that Horbury also carriedour missing securities in his pocket?" asked Joseph quietly. "Becausewe, at any rate, know they're gone!"

"Oh, well!" said the Earl, "I--I merely suggest it, you know. Thecountry between here and Ellersdeane is a bit rough and wild--there'sEllersdeane Hollow, you know--a queer place on a dark night. And if aman took a short cut--as many people do--through the Hollow, there areplaces he could fall into. But, as I say, I merely suggest that as areasonable theory. "

"What does your lordship propose to do?" asked Gabriel. 

"I certainly think inquiry should be set going, " answered the Earl. 

"Already done, " remarked Joseph drily. "Miss Fosdyke has been with thepolice five minutes. "

"I mean--it should be done by us, " said the Earl. 

"Very well, " said Gabriel suddenly, "it shall be done, then. No doubtyour lordship would like to give the police your own story. Mr. Neale, will you go with Lord Ellersdeane to Superintendent Polke? Your dutywill be to give him the mere information that Mr. Horbury left his houseat a quarter to eight on Saturday evening and has not been heard ofsince. No more, Neale. And now, " he concluded, with a bow to the Earl, "your lordship will excuse my partner and myself if we return to asingularly unpleasant task. "

Lord Ellersdeane and Neale left the bank-house and walked towards thepolice-station. They crossed the Market-Place in silence, but as theyturned the corner of the Moot Hall, the elder man spoke, touching hiscompanion's shoulder with a confidential gesture. 

"I don't believe a word of all that, Mr. Neale!" he said. "Not oneword!"

Neale started and glanced at the Earl's moody face. 

"Your lordship doesn't believe--?" he began, and checked himself. 

"I don't believe that Horbury's done what those two accuse him of, "affirmed the Earl. "Not for one moment! I can't account for thosemissing securities they talk about, but I'll stake my honour thatHorbury hasn't got 'em! Nor my wife's jewels either. You heard and sawhow astounded that girl was. By the by--who is she!"

"Mr. Horbury's niece--Miss Fosdyke--from London, " replied Neale. 

"She spoke of her wealth, " remarked the Earl. 

"Yes, " said Neale. "She must be wealthy, too. She's the sole proprietorof Fosdyke's Brewery. "

"Ho-ho!" laughed the Earl. "That's it, eh? Fosdyke's Entire! Ofcourse--I've seen the name on no end of public-houses in London. Soleproprietor? Dear me!--why, I have some recollection that Fosdyke, ofthat brewery, was at one time a member of Parliament. "

"Yes, " assented Neale. "He married Mr. Horbury's sister. Miss Fosdyke istheir only child. Mr. Fosdyke died a few years ago, and she came intothe property last year when she was twenty-one. "

"Lucky young woman!" muttered the Earl. "Fine thing to own a bigbrewery. Um! A very modern and up-to-date young lady, too: I liked theway she stood up to your principals. Of course, she'll have told Polkeall the story by this time. As for ourselves--what had we better do?"

Neale had considered that question as he came along. 

"There's only one thing to do, my lord, " he answered. "We want thesolution of a problem: what became of Mr. Horbury last Saturday night?"

CHAPTER V

THE SEARCH BEGINS

Polke, superintendent of the Scarnham police force, a little, round, cheery-faced man, whose mutton-chop whiskers suggested muchbusiness-like capacity and an equal amount of common sense, rose fromhis desk and bowed as the Earl of Ellersdeane entered his office. 

"I know what your lordship's come for!" he said, with a twinkle of theeye which betokened infinite comprehension. "The young lady's beenhere. "

"And has no doubt told you everything?" remarked the Earl, as he droppedinto the chair which the superintendent drew forward. "Has she?"

"Pretty well, my lord, " replied Polke, with a chuckle. "She's not one tolet much grass grow under her feet, I think. "

"Given you the facts, I suppose?" asked the Earl. 

Polke motioned to Neale to seat himself, and resumed his own seat. Heput his fingers together over his desk and looked from one to the otherof his visitors. 

"I'll give the young lady this much credit, " he said. "She can tell onewhat she wants in about as few words as could possibly be used! Yes, mylord--she told me the facts in a couple of sentences. Her uncledisappeared--nobody knows where he is--suspected already of running awaywith your lordship's jewels and Chestermarke's securities. A very nicebusiness indeed!"

"What do you think of it?" asked the Earl. 

"As a policeman, nothing--so far, " answered Polke, with another twinkle. "As a man, that I don't believe it!"

"Nor do I!" said the Earl. "That is, I don't believe that Horbury'sappropriated anything. There's some mistake--and some mystery. "

"We can't get away from the fact that Mr. Horbury has disappeared, "remarked Neale, looking at the superintendent. "That's all I'm sent hereto tell you, Mr. Polke. "

"That's an accepted fact, " agreed Polke. "But he's not the first manwho's disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Some men, as yourlordship knows, disappear--and reappear with good reasons for theirabsence. Some never reappear. Some men aren't wanted to reappear. When aman disappears and he's wanted--why, the job is to find him. "

"What does Miss Fosdyke wish?" asked the Earl, nodding assent to thesephilosophies. "She would say, of course. "

"Miss Fosdyke's way, my lord--so far as I could gather from ten minutes'talk with her--is to tell people what to do, " answered Polke drily. "Shedoesn't ask--she commands! We're to find her uncle--quick. At once. Nopains to be spared. Money no object. A hundred pounds, spot cash, to thefirst man, woman, child, who brings her the least fragment of news ofhim. That's Miss Fosdyke's method. It's not a bad one--it's only richyoung ladies who can follow it. So I've already put things in train. Handbills and posters, of course--and the town-crier. I suggested to herthat by tonight, or tomorrow morning, there might be news of Mr. Horburywithout doing all that. No good! Miss Fosdyke--she can tell you a lotinside a minute--informed me that since she was seventeen she had onlyhad one motto in life. It's--do it now!"

"Good!" laughed the Earl. "But--where are you going to begin?"

"That's the difficulty, " agreed Polke. "A gentleman walks out of hisback garden into the dusk--and he's never seen again. I don't know. Wemust wait and see if anybody comes forward to say that he, she, or itsaw Mr. Horbury after he left his house on Saturday night. That's all. "

"Somebody must have seen him, " said the Earl. 

"Well, you'd think so, my lord, " replied Polke, "but he could get awayfrom the back of his orchard into the open country without being seen. The geographical position of our town's a bit curious, so your lordshipknows. Here we are on a ridge. Horbury's garden and orchard run down tothe foot of that ridge. At that foot is the river. There's a foot-bridgeover the river, immediately opposite his orchard gate. He could crossthat foot-bridge, and be in the wood on the other side in two minutesfrom leaving his house. That wood extends for a good mile into thecountry. Oh, yes! he could get away without being seen, and once in thatcountry, why, he could make his way to one or other of half a dozensmall railway stations. We shall telephone to all of them. That's all inthe routine. But then, that's all supposing that he left the town. Perhaps he didn't leave the town. "

The Earl started, and Neale looked quickly up from a brown study. 

"Eh?" said the Earl. "Didn't leave the town?"

"Speaking as a policeman, " answered Polke, with a knowing smile, "Idon't know that he even left his house. I only know that his housekeepersays he did. That's a very different matter. For anything weknow--absolutely know!--Mr. Horbury may have been murdered in his ownhouse, and buried in his own cellar. "

"You're not joking?" said Neale. "Or--you are!"

"Far from it, Mr. Neale, " answered Polke. "That may seem a very, veryoutrageous thing to say, but, I assure you, one never knows what may nothave happened in these cases. However, Mrs. Carswell says he did leavethe house, so we must take her word to begin with, and see if we canfind out where he went. And as your lordship is here, there's just aquestion or two I should like to have answered. How many people knowthat your lordship handed over these valuables to Mr. Horbury?"

"So far as I know, no one but the Countess and myself, " replied theEarl. "I never mentioned the matter to any one, and I don't think mywife would either. There was no need to mention it. "

"Well, I don't know, " remarked Polke. "One's got to consider all sortsof little things in these affairs, or else I wouldn't ask anotherquestion. Does your lordship think it possible the Countess mentioned itto her maid?"

The Earl started in his chair. 

"Ah!" he said. "That may be! She may have done that, of course. I hadn'tthought of it. "

"Is the maid a trustworthy woman?" inquired Polke. 

"She's been in our service twelve or fourteen years, " replied the Earl. "We've always found her quite trustworthy. So much so that I've morethan once sent her to my bankers with those very jewels. "

"You took her with you to the Continent, of course, my lord?" askedPolke. 

"No, we didn't, " replied the Earl. "The fact is--we wanted to have, foronce in our lives, a thoroughly unconventional holiday. You know thatthe Countess and I are both very fond of walking--well, we had alwayshad a great desire to have a walking tour, alone, in the Ardennesdistrict, in early spring. We decided some time ago to have it thisyear. So when we set off, six weeks ago, we took no servants--andprecious little luggage--and we enjoyed it all the more. Therefore, ofcourse, my wife's maid was not with us. She remained atEllersdeane--with the rest of the servants. "

Polke seemed to ponder over this last statement. Then he rose from hischair. 

"Um!" he said. "Well--I'm doing what I can. There's something yourlordship might do. "

"Yes?" asked the Earl. "What, now! It shall be done. "

"Let some of your men take a look round your neighbourhood, " answeredthe superintendent. "Gamekeepers, now--they're the fellows! Just nowwe're having some grand moonlight nights. If your men would look aboutthe country between here and Ellersdeane, now? And tell the farmers, andthe cottagers, and so forth, and take a particular look roundEllersdeane Hollow. It would be a help. "

"Excellent idea, Polke, " said the Earl. "I'll ride home and set thingsgoing at once. And you'll let me know if anything turns up here duringthe evening or the night. "

He strode off to the door and Neale followed. But on the threshold Nealewas pulled up by the superintendent. 

"Mr. Neale!" said Polke. 

Neale turned to see his questioner looking at him with a ratherquizzical expression. 

"What precise message had you for me?" asked Polke. 

"Just what I said, " replied Neale. "I was merely to tell you that Mr. Horbury disappeared from his house on Saturday evening, and has not beenseen since. "

"No further message--from your principals?" suggested Polke. 

"Nothing, " said Neale. 

Polke nodded, and with a bow to the Earl sat down again to his desk. Hetook up a pen when the door had closed on his visitors, and for a whilebusied himself in writing. He was thus occupied when the telephone bellrang in the farthest corner of his room. He crossed over and laid holdof the receiver. 

"Yes?" he said quietly. "Yes--this is Polke, superintendent, Scarnham--Irang you up twenty minutes since. I want you to send me, at once, thesmartest man you have available. Case is disappearance, under mysteriouscircumstances, of a bank manager. Securities to a large amount aremissing; valuables also. No expense will be spared here--money noobject. You understand--a first-class man? Tonight? Yes. Good train fromtown five-twenty--gets here nine-fifteen. He will catch that? Good. Tellhim report here on arrival. All right. Good-bye. "

Polke rang off and went back to his desk. 

"What New Scotland Yard calls a first-class is very often what I shouldcall a third-class, " he muttered as he picked up his pen. "However, we'll live in hope that something out of the usual will arrive. Now whatare those two Chestermarkes after? Why didn't one of them come here?What are they doing? And what's the mystery? James Polke, my boy, here'sa handful for you!"

If Polke had been able to look into Chestermarke's Bank just then, hewould have failed to notice any particular evidences of mystery. It wasnearly the usual hour for closing when Wallington Neale went back, andGabriel Chestermarke immediately told him to follow out the ordinaryroutine. The clerks were to finish their work and go their ways, as ifnothing had happened, and, as far as they could, they were to keep theirtongues quiet. As for the partners, food was being sent over for themfrom the hotel: they would be obliged to remain at the bank for sometime yet. But there was no need for Neale to stay; he could go when theday's balancing was done. 

"You heard what instructions this Miss Fosdyke had given the police, Isuppose?" asked Gabriel, as Neale was leaving the parlour. "Raising thewhole town, no doubt?"

Neale briefly narrated all he knew; the partners listened with theexpression characteristic of each, and made no comment. And in half anhour Neale handed over the keys to Joseph Chestermarke and went out intothe hall, his labours over. That had been the most exciting day he hadever known in his life--was what was left of it going to yield anythingstill more exciting?

He stood in the outer hall trying to make up his mind about something. He wanted to speak to Betty Fosdyke--to talk to her. She had evidentlynot recognized him when she came so suddenly into the dining-room of thebank-house. But why should she, he asked himself?--they had only metonce, when both were children, and she had no doubt forgotten his veryexistence. Still--

He rang the house bell at last and asked for Mrs. Carswell. Thehousekeeper came hurrying to him, a look of expectancy on her face. 

"Has anything been heard, Mr. Neale?" she asked. "Or found out? Have thepolice been told yet?"

"The police know, " answered Neale. "And nothing has been heard. Where isMiss Fosdyke, Mrs. Carswell? I should like to speak to her. "

"Gone to the Scarnham Arms, Mr. Neale, " replied the housekeeper. "Shewouldn't stay here, though her room was all ready for her. Said shewouldn't stop two seconds in a house that belonged to men who suspectedher uncle! So she's gone across there to take rooms. Do--do the partnerssuspect Mr. Horbury of something, Mr. Neale?"

Neale shook his head and turned away. 

"I can't tell you anything, Mrs. Carswell, " he answered. "If either Mr. Chestermarke or Mr. Joseph wish to give you any information, they'llgive it themselves. But I can say this on my own responsibility--if youknow of anything--anything, however small!--that would account for Mr. Horbury's absence, out with it!"

"But I don't--I know nothing but what I've told, " said Mrs. Carswell. "Literally nothing!"

"Nobody knows anything, " remarked Neale. "That's the worst of it. Well--we shall see. "

He went away from the house and crossed the Market-Place to the ScarnhamArms, an old-world inn which had suffered few alterations during thelast two centuries. And there inside its wide hall, superintending theremoval of various articles of luggage which had just arrived from thestation and in conversation with a much interested landlady, he foundBetty Fosdyke. 

"I may be here for weeks, and I shall certainly be here for days, " thatyoung lady was saying. "Put all these things in the bedroom, and I'llhave what I want taken into the sitting-room later. Now, Mrs. Depledge, about my dinner. I'll have it in my sitting-room, and I'll have itearly. I----"

At this moment Miss Fosdyke became aware of Neale's presence, and thatthis eminently good-looking young man was not only smiling at her, butwas holding out a hand which he evidently expected to be taken. 

"You've forgotten me!" said Neale. 

Miss Fosdyke's cheeks flushed a little and she held out her hand. 

"Is it--is it Wallie Neale?" she asked. "But--I saw you in thebank-house--and you didn't speak to me!"

"You didn't speak to me, " retorted Neale, smiling. 

"Didn't know you, " she answered. "Heavens!--how you've grown! But--comeupstairs. Mrs. Depledge--dinner for two, mind. Mr. Neale will dine withme. "

Neale suffered his hostess to lead him upstairs to a private parlour. And when they were once within it, Miss Fosdyke shut the door and turnedon him. 

"Now, Wallie Neale!" she said, "out with it! What is the meaning of allthis infernal mystery? And where's my uncle?"

CHAPTER VI

ELLERSDEANE HOLLOW

Neale dropped into a chair and lifted a despairing countenance to hisdownright questioner. 

"I don't know!" he said. "I know--nothing!"

"That is--beyond what I've already been told?" suggested the girl. 

"Beyond what you've been told--exactly, " replied Neale. "I'm literallybewildered. I've been going about all day as if--as if I were dreaming, or having a nightmare, or--something. I don't understand it at all. Isaw Mr. Horbury, of course, on Saturday--he was all right when I lefthim at the bank. He said nothing that suggested anything unusual. Thewhole thing is--a real facer! To me--anyhow. "

Betty Fosdyke devoted a whole minute to taking a good look at hercompanion: Neale, on his part, made a somewhat shyer examination of her. He remembered her as a long-legged little girl who had no great promiseof good looks: he was not quite sure that she had grown into good looksnow. But she was an eminently bright and vivacious young woman, strong, healthy, vigorous, with fine eyes and teeth and hair, and a colour thatbetokened an intimate acquaintance with outdoor life. And already, inthe conversation at the bank, and in Polke's report of his interviewwith him, he had learnt that she had developed certain characteristicswhich he faintly remembered in her as a child, when she had insisted onhaving her own way amongst other children. 

"You've grown into quite a handsome young man, Wallie!" she observedsuddenly, with a frank laugh. "I shouldn't have thought you would, somehow. Am I changed?"

"I should say--not in character, " answered Neale shyly. "I remember youalways wanted to be top dog!"

"It's my fate!" she said, with a sigh. "I've such a lot of people andthings to look after--one has to be top dog, whether one wants to ornot. But this affair--what's to be done?"

"I understand from Polke that you've already done everything, " repliedNeale. 

"I've given him orders to spare neither trouble nor expense, " sheasserted. "He's to send for the very best detective they can give himfrom headquarters in London, and search is to be made. Because--now, Wallie, tell me truthfully--you don't believe for one moment that myuncle has run away with things?"

"Not for one second!" asserted Neale stoutly. "Never did!"

"Then--there's foul play!" exclaimed Betty. "And I'll spend my lastpenny to get at the bottom of it! Here I am, and here I stick, untilI've found my uncle, or discovered what's happened to him. Andlisten--do you think those two men across there are to be trusted?"

Neale shook his head as if in appeal to her. 

"I'm their clerk, you know, " he replied. "I hate being there at all, butI am there. I believe they're men of absolute probity as regardsbusiness matters--personally, I'm not very fond of either. "

"Fond!" she exclaimed. "My dear boy!--Joseph is a slimy sneak, andGabriel is a bloodless sphinx--I hate both of them!"

Neale laughed and gave her a look of comprehension. 

"You haven't changed, Betty, " he said. "I'm to call you Betty, thoughyou are grown up?"

"Since it's the only name I possess, I suppose you are, " she answered. "But now--what can we do--you and I? After all, we're the nearest peoplemy uncle has in this town. Do let's do something! I'm not the sort tosit talking--I want action! Can't you suggest something we can do?"

"There's one thing, " replied Neale, after a moment's thought. "LordEllersdeane suggested that possibly Mr. Horbury, hearing that theEllersdeanes had got home on Saturday, put the jewels in his pocket andstarted out to Ellersdeane with them. I know the exact path he'd havetaken in that case, and I thought of following it this evening--onemight come across something, or hear something, you know. "

"Take me with you, as soon as we've had dinner, " she said. "It'll be abeginning. I mean to turn this neighbourhood upside down fornews--you'll see. Some person or persons must have seen my uncle onSaturday night!--a man can't disappear like that. It's impossible!"

"Um!--but men do disappear, " remarked Neale. "What I'm hoping is thatthere'll eventually--and quickly--be some explanation of thisdisappearance, and that Mr. Horbury hasn't met with--shall I put itplainly?"

"You'd better put anything plainly to me, " she answered. "I don'tunderstand other methods. "

"It's possible he may have been murdered, you know, " said Neale quietly. 

Betty got up from her chair and went over to the window to look out onthe Market-Place. She stood there some time in silence. 

"It shall be a bad job for any man who murdered him if that is so, " shesaid at last. "I was very fond of my uncle. "

"So was I, " said Neale. "But I say--no past tenses yet! Aren't we a bitprevious? He may be all right. "

"Ring the bell and let's hurry up that dinner, " she commanded. "I didn'tmake it clear that we want it as early as possible. I want to get out, and to see where he went--I want to do something active!"

But Miss Betty Fosdyke was obliged to adapt herself to the somewhatleisurely procedure of highly respectable country-town hotels, whosecooks will not be hurried, and it was already dusk, and the moonlightwas beginning to throw shadows of gable and spire over the oldMarket-Place, when she and Neale set out on their walk. 

"All the better, " said Neale. "This is just about the time that he wentout on Saturday night, and under very similar conditions. Now we'll takethe precise path that he'd have taken if he was on his way toEllersdeane. "

He led his companion to a corner of the Market-Place, and down a narrowalley which terminated on an expanse of open ground at the side of theriver. There he made her pause and look round. 

"Now if we're going to do the thing properly, " he said, "just attend, and take notice of what I point out. The town, as you see, stands onthis ridge above us. Here we are at the foot of the gardens and orchardswhich slope down from the backs of the houses on this side of theMarket-Place. There is the gate of the bank-house orchard. According toMrs. Carswell, Mr. Horbury came out of that gate on Saturday night. Whatdid he do then? He could have turned to the left, along this river bank, or to the right, also along the river bank. But, if he meant to walk outto Ellersdeane--which he would reach in well under an hour--he wouldcross this foot-bridge and enter those woods. That's what we've got todo. "

He led his companion across a narrow bridge, over a strip of sward atthe other side of the river, and into a grove of fir which presentlydeepened and thickened as it spread up a gently shelving hillside. Thelights of the town behind them disappeared; the gloom increased;presently they were alternately crossing patches of moonlight andplunging into expanses of blackness. And Betty, after stumbling over oneor two of the half-exposed roots which lay across the rough path, slipped a hand into Neale's arm. 

"You'll have to play guide, Wallie, unless you wish me to break myneck, " she laughed. "My town eyes aren't accustomed to these depths ofgloom and solitude. And now, " she went on, as Neale led her confidentlyforward through the wood, "let's talk some business. I want to knowabout those two--the Chestermarkes. For I've an uneasy feeling thatthere's more in this affair than's on the surface, and I want to knowall about the people I'm dealing with. Just remember--beyond the merefact of their existence and having seen them once or twice, years ago, Idon't know anything about them. What sort of men are they--asindividuals?"

"Queer!" replied Neale. "They're both queer. I don't know much aboutthem. Nobody does. They're all right as business men, much respected andall that, you know. But as private individuals they're decidedly odd. They're both old bachelors, at least Gabriel's an old one, and Joseph isa youngish one. They live sort of hermit lives, as far as one can makeout. Gabriel lives at the old house which I'll show you when we get outof this wood--you'll see the roofs, anyhow, in this moonlight. Josephlives in another old house, but in the town, at the end of Cornmarket. What they do with themselves at home, Heaven knows! They don't go intosuch society as there is; they take no part in the town's affairs. There's a very good club here for men of their class--they don't belongto it. You, can't get either of 'em to attend a meeting--they keep alooffrom everything. But they both go up to London a great deal--they'realways going. But they never go together--when Gabriel's away, Joseph'sat home; when Joseph's off, Gabriel's on show. There's always one Mr. Chestermarke to be found at the bank. All the same, Mr. Horbury was theman who did all the business with customers in the ordinary way. So faras I know banking, " concluded Neale, "I should say he was trusted andconfided in more than most bank managers are. "

"Did they seem very much astonished when they found he'd gone?" askedBetty. "Did it seem a great shock, a real surprise?"

"The cleverest man living couldn't tell what either Gabriel or JosephChestermarke thinks about anything, " answered Neale. "You know whatGabriel's face is like--a stone image! And Joseph always looks as if hewas sneering at you, a sort of soft, smiling sneer. No, I couldn't saythey showed surprise, and I don't know what they've found out--they'rethe closest, most reserved men about their own affairs that you couldimagine!"

"But--they say some of their securities are missing, " remarked Betty. "They'll have to let the exact details be known, won't they?"

"Depends--on them, " replied Neale. "They'll only do what they like. Andthey don't love you for coming on the scene, I assure you!"

"But I'm here, nevertheless!" said Betty. "And here I stop! Wallie, haven't you got even a bit of a theory about all this!"

"Can't say that I have!" confessed Neale woefully. "I'm not a verybrilliant hand at thinking. The only thing I can think of is that Mr. Horbury, knowing Lord Ellersdeane had got home on Saturday, thoughthe'd hand back those jewels as soon as possible, and set off in theevening with that intention--possibly to be robbed and murdered on theway. Sounds horrible--but honestly I can't think of any other theory. "

Betty involuntarily shivered and glanced about her at the dark cavernousspaces of the wood, which had now thickened into dense masses of oak andbeech. She took a firmer grip of Neale's arm. 

"And he'd come through here!" she exclaimed. "How dangerous!--with thosethings in his pocket!"

"Oh, but he'd think nothing of it!" answered Neale. "He was used towalking at night--he knew every yard of this neighbourhood. Besides, he'd know very well that nobody would know what he had on him. What I'dlike to know is--supposing my theory's right, and that he was takingthese jewels to Ellersdeane, how did anybody get to know that he hadthem? For the Chestermarkes didn't know they'd been given to him, and Ididn't--nobody at the bank knew. "

A sudden turn in the path brought them to the edge of the wood, and theyemerged on a broad plateau of rough grass, from beneath which a wideexpanse of landscape stretched away, bathed just then in floods ofmoonlight. Neale paused and waved his stick towards the shadowydistances and over the low levels which lay between. 

"Ellersdeane Hollow!" he said. 

Betty paused too, looking silently around. She saw an undulating, brokenstretch of country, half-heath, half-covert, covering a square mile orso of land, houseless, solitary. In its midst rose a curiously shapedeminence or promontory, at the highest point of which some ruin or otherlifted gaunt, shapeless walls against the moonlit sky. Far down beneathit, in a depression amongst the heath-clad undulations, a fire glowedred in the gloom. And on the further side of this solitude, amidstgroves and plantations, the moonlight shone on the roofs and gables ofhalf-hidden houses. Over everything hung a deep silence. 

"A wild and lonely scene!" she said. 

Neale raised his stick again and began to point. 

"All this in front of us is called Ellersdeane Hollow, " he remarked. "It's not just one depression, you see--it's a tract of unenclosed land. It's dangerous to cross, except by the paths--it's honeycombed all overwith disused lead-mines--some of the old shafts are a tremendous depth. All the same, you see, there's some tinker chap, or some gipsies, campedout down there and got a fire. That old ruin, up on the crag there, iscalled Ellersdeane Tower--one of Lord Ellersdeane's ancestors built itfor an observatory--this path'll lead us right beneath it. "

"Is this the path he would have taken if he'd gone to Ellersdeane onSaturday night?" asked Betty. 

"Precisely--straight ahead, past the Tower, " answered Neale. "And thereis Ellersdeane itself, right away in the distance, amongst its trees. There!--where the moonlight catches it. Now let your eye follow that farline of wood, over the tops of the trees about Ellersdeane village--doyou see where the moonlight shines on another high roof? That's GabrielChestermarke's place--the Warren. "

"So--he and Lord Ellersdeane are neighbours!" remarked Betty. 

"Neighbours at a distance of a mile--and who do no more than nod to eachother, " answered Neale. "Lord Ellersdeane and Mr. Horbury were what youmight call friends, but I don't believe his lordship ever spoke tenwords with either of the Chestermarkes until this morning. I tell youthe Chestermarkes are regular hermits!--when they're at home or aboutScarnham, anyhow. Now let's go as far as the Tower--you can see all overthe country from that point. "

Betty followed her guide down a narrow path which led in and out throughthe undulations of the Hollow until it reached the foot of thepromontory on which stood the old ruin that made such a prominentlandmark. Seen at close quarters Ellersdeane Tower was a place of muchgreater size and proportion than it had appeared from the edge of thewood, and the path to its base was steep and rocky. And here theloneliness in which she and Neale had so far walked came to an end--onthe edge of the promontory, outlined against the moonlit sky, two menstood, talking in low tones. 

CHAPTER VII

THE TRAVELLING TINKER

Neale's eye caught the gleam of silver braid on the clothing of one ofthe two men, and he hastened his steps a little as he and Betty emergedon the level ground at the top of the steep path. 

"That's a policeman, " he said. "It'll be the constable from Ellersdeane. The other man looks like a gamekeeper. Let's see if they've heardanything. "

The two figures turned at the sound of footsteps, and came slowly inNeale's direction. Both recognized him and touched their hats. 

"I suppose you're looking round in search of anything about Mr. Horbury?" suggested Neale. "Heard any news or found any trace?"

"Well, we're what you might call taking a preliminary observation, Mr. Neale, " answered the policeman. "His lordship's sent men out all overthe neighbourhood. No, we've heard nothing, nor seen anything, either. But, then, there's not much chance of hearing anything hereabouts. Theothers have gone round asking at houses, and such-like--to find out ifhe was seen to pass anywhere. Of course, his lordship was figuring onthe chance that Mr. Horbury might have had a fit, or something of thatsort, and fallen somewhere along this path, between the town andEllersdeane House--it's not much followed, this path. But we've seennothing--up to now. "

Neale turned to the keeper. 

"Were none of your people about here on Saturday night?" he asked. "You've a good many watchers on the estate, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir--a dozen or more, " answered the keeper. "But we don't comethis way--this isn't our land. Our beats lie the other way--t'other sideof the village. We never come on to this part at all. "

"This, you know, Mr. Neale, " remarked the policeman, jerking his thumbover the Hollow, "this, in a manner of speaking, belongs to nobody. Somesay it belongs to the Crown--I don't know. All I know is that nobody hasany rights over it--it's been what you might term common land ever sinceanybody can remember. This here Mr. Horbury that's missing--yourgovernor, sir--I once met him out here, and had a bit of talk with him, and he told me that it isn't even known who worked them old lead-minesdown there, nor who has any rights over all this waste. That, ofcourse, " concluded the policeman, pointing to the glowing fire whichNeale and Betty had seen from the edge of the wood, "that's why chapslike yonder man come and camp here just as they like--there's nobody tostop 'em. "

"Who is the man?" asked Neale, glancing at the fire, whose flames made ared spot amongst the bushes. 

"Most likely a travelling tinker chap, sir, that comes this way now andagain, " answered the policeman. "Name of Creasy--Tinner Creasy, thefolks call him. He's come here for many a year, at odd times. Camps outwith his pony and cart, and goes round the villages and farmsteads, seeing if there's aught to mend, and selling 'em pots and pans andsuch-like. Stops a week or two--sometimes longer. "

"And poaches all he can lay hands on, " added the gamekeeper. "Only hetakes good care never to go off this Hollow to do it. "

"Have you made any inquiry of him?" asked Neale. 

"We were just thinking of doing that, sir, " replied the policeman. "Heroams up and down about here at nights, when he is here. But I don'tknow how long he's been camping this time--it's very seldom I ever comeround this way myself--there's naught to come for. "

"Let's go across there and speak to him, " said Neale. 

He and Betty followed the two men down the side of the promontory andacross the ups and downs of the Hollow, until they came to a deeperdepression fringed about by a natural palisading of hawthorn. And asthey drew near and could see into the dingle-like recess which thetinker had selected for his camping-ground they became aware of asavoury and appetizing odour, and the gamekeeper laughed. 

"Cooking his supper, is Tinner Creasy!" he remarked. "And good stuff hehas in his pot, too!"

The tinker, now in full view, sat on a log near a tripod, beneath whichcrackled a bright fire, burning under a black pot. The leaping flamesrevealed a shrewd, weather-beaten face which turned sharply towards thebushes as the visitors appeared; they also lighted up the tinker's cartin the background, the browsing pony close by, the implements of thetinner's trade strewn around on the grass. It was an alluring picture ofvagabond life, and Neale suddenly compared it with the dull existence offolk who, like himself, were chained to a desk. He would have liked tosit down by Tinner Creasy and ask him about his doings--but thepoliceman had less poetical ideas. 

"Hullo, Tinner!" said he, with easy familiarity. "Here again, what? Ithought we should be seeing your fire some night this spring. Been herelong?"

The tinker, who had remained seated on his log until he saw that a ladywas of the party, rose and touched the edge of his fur cap to Betty in away which indicated that his politeness was entirely for her. 

"Since yesterday, " he answered laconically. 

"Only since yesterday!" exclaimed the policeman. "Ah! that's a pity, now. You wasn't here Saturday night, then?"

The tinker turned a quizzical eye on the four inquiring faces. 

"How would I be here Saturday night when I only came yesterday?" heretorted. "You're the sort of chap that wants two answers to onequestion! What about Saturday night?"

The policeman took off his helmet and rubbed the top of his head as ifto encourage his faculties. 

"Nay!" he said. "There's a gentleman missing from Scarnham yonder, andit's thought he came out this way after dark, Saturday night, andsomething happened. But, of course, if you wasn't in these partsthen----"

"I wasn't, nor within ten miles of 'em, " said Creasy. "Who is thegentleman?"

"Mr. Horbury, the bank manager, " answered the policeman. 

"I know Mr. Horbury, " remarked Creasy, with a glance at Neale and Betty. "I've talked to him a hundred-and-one times on this waste. So it's him, is it? Well, there's one thing you can be certain about. "

"What?" asked Betty eagerly. 

"Mr. Horbury wouldn't happen aught by accident, hereabouts, " answeredthe tinker significantly. "He knew every inch of this Hollow. Somefolks, now, might take a header into one o' them old lead-mines. Hewouldn't. He could ha' gone blind-fold over this spot. "

"Well--he's disappeared, " observed the policeman. "There's a searchbeing made, all round. You heard naught last night, I suppose?"

Creasy gave Neale and Betty a look. 

"Heard plenty of owls, and night-jars, and such-like, " he answered, "andfoxes, and weasels, and stoats, and beetles creeping in the grass. Naught human!"

The policeman resumed his helmet and sniffed audibly. He and the keepermoved away and talked together. Then the policeman turned to Neale. 

"Well, we'll be getting back to the village, sir, " he said. "If so be asyou see our super, Mr. Neale, you might mention that we're out andabout. "

He and his companion went off by a different path; at the top of a risein the ground the policeman turned again. 

"Tinner!" he called. 

"Hullo?" answered Creasy. 

"If you should hear or find aught, " said the policeman, "come to me, youknow. "

"All right!" assented Creasy. He picked up some wood and replenished hisfire. And glancing at Neale and Betty, who still lingered, he let fall amuttered whisper under his breath. "Bide a bit--till those chaps havegone, " he said. "I've a word or two. "

He walked away to his cart after this mysterious communication, divedunder its tilt, evidently felt for and found something, and came back, glancing over his shoulder to see that keeper and policeman had gonetheir ways. 

"I never tell chaps of that sort anything, mister, " he said, givingNeale a sly wink. "Them of my turn of life look on all gamekeepers andpolicemen as their natural enemies. They'd both of 'em turn me out o'this if they could!--only they know they can't. For some reason or otherEllersdeane Hollow is No Man's Land--and therefore mine. And so--Iwasn't going to say anything to them--not me!"

"Then there is something you can say?" said Neale. 

"You were here on Saturday!" exclaimed Betty. "You know something!"

"No, miss, I wasn't here Saturday, " answered the tinker, "and I don'tknow anything--about what yon man asked, anyway--I told him the truthabout all that. But--you say Mr. Horbury's missing, and that he'sconsidered to have come this way on Saturday night. So--do either of youknow that?"

He drew his right hand from behind him, and in the glare of thefirelight showed them, lying across its palm, a briar tobacco-pipe, silver-mounted. 

"I found that, last night, gathering dry sticks, " he said. "It's lettersengraved on the silver band--'J. H. From B. F. ' 'J. H. ' now?--does thatmean John Horbury?--you see, I know his Christian name. "

Betty uttered a sharp exclamation and took the pipe in her hand. Sheturned to Neale with a look of sudden fear. 

"It's the pipe I gave my uncle last Christmas!" she said. "Of course Iknow it! Where did you find it?" she went on, turning on Creasy. "Dotell us--do show us!"

"Foot of the crag there, miss--right beneath the old tower, " answeredCreasy. "And it's just as I found it. I'll give it to you, sir, to taketo Superintendent Polke in Scarnham--he knows me. But just let me pointsomething out. I ain't a detective, but in my eight-and-forty years I'vehad to keep my wits sharpened and my eyes open. Point out to Polke, andnotice yourself--that whenever that pipe was dropped it was beingsmoked! The tobacco's caked at the surface--just as it would be if thepipe had been laid down at the very time the tobacco was burningwell--if you're a smoker you'll know what I mean. That's one thing. Theother is--just observe that the silver band is quite bright and fresh, and that there are no stains on the briar-wood. What's that indicate, young lady and young gentleman? Why, that that pipe hadn't been lying sovery long when I found it! Not above a day, I'll warrant. "

"That's very clever of you, very observant!" exclaimed Betty. "But--won't you show us the exact place where you picked it up?"

Creasy cast a glance at his cooking pot, stepped to it, and slightlytilted the lid. Then he signed to them to go back towards the tower bythe path by which they had come. 

"Don't want my supper to boil over, or to burn, " he remarked. "It's theonly decent meal I get in the day, you see, miss. But it won't take aminute to show you where I found the pipe. Now--what's the idea, sir, "he went on, turning to Neale, "about Mr. Horbury's disappearance? Is itknown that he came out here Saturday night?"

"Not definitely, " replied Neale. "But it's believed he did. He was seento set off in this direction, and there's a probability that he crossedover here on his way to Ellersdeane. But he's never been seen since heleft Scarnham. "

"Well, " observed Creasy, "as I said just now, he wouldn't happenanything by accident in an ordinary way. Was there any reason whyanybody should set on him?"

"There may have been, " replied Neal. 

"He wouldn't be likely to have aught valuable on him, surely--that timeo' night?" said the tinker. 

"He may have had, " admitted Neale. "I can't tell you more. "

Creasy asked no farther question. He led the way to the foot of thepromontory, at a point where a mass of rock rose sheer out of the hollowto the plateau crowned by the ruinous tower. 

"Here's where I picked up the pipe, " he said. "Lying amongst thisrubbish--stones and dry wood, you see--I just caught the gleam of thesilver band. Now what should Mr. Horbury be doing down here? The path, you see, is a good thirty yards off. But--he may have fallen over--orbeen thrown over--and it's a sixty-feet drop from top to bottom. "

Neale and Betty looked up the face of the rocks and said nothing. AndCreasy presently went on, speaking in a low voice:--

"If he met with foul play--if, for instance, he was thrown over here ina struggle--or if, taking a look from the top there, he got too near theedge and something gave way, " he said, "there's about as good means ofgetting rid of a dead man in this Ellersdeane Hollow as in any place inEngland! That's a fact!"

"You mean the lead-mines?" murmured Neale. 

"Right, sir! Do you know how many of these old workings there is?"asked Creasy. "There's between fifty and sixty within a square mile ofthis tower. Some's fenced in--most isn't. Some of their mouths are grownover with bramble and bracken. And all of 'em are of tremendous depth. Aman could be thrown down one of those mines, sir, and it 'ud be a longjob finding his body! But all that's very frightening to the lady, andwe'll hope nothing of it happened. Still----"

"It has to be faced, " said Betty. "Listen--I am Mr. Horbury's niece, andI'm offering a reward for news of him. Will you keep your eyes and earsopen while you're in this neighbourhood?"

The tinker promised that he would do his best, and presently he wentback to his fire, while Neale and Betty turned away towards the town. Neither spoke until they were half-way through the wood; then Bettyuttered her fears in a question. 

"Do you think the finding of that pipe shows he was--there?" she asked. 

"I'm sure of it, " replied Neale. "I wish I wasn't. But--I saw him withthis pipe in his lips at two o'clock on Saturday! I recognized it atonce. "

"Let's hurry on and see the police, " said Betty. "We know something now, at any rate. "

Polke, they were told at the police-station, was in his private houseclose by: a polite constable conducted them thither. And presently theywere shown into the superintendent's dining-room, where Polke, hospitably intent, was mixing a drink for a stranger. The stranger, evidently just in from a journey, rose and bowed, and Polke waved hishand at him with a smile, as he looked at the two young people. 

"Here's your man, miss!" said Polke cheerily. "Allowme--Detective-Sergeant Starmidge, of the Criminal InvestigationDepartment. "

CHAPTER VIII

THE SATURDAY NIGHT STRANGER

Neale, who had never seen a real, live detective in the flesh, but whocherished something of a passion for reading sensational fiction and thereports of criminal cases in the weekly newspapers, looked at the manfrom New Scotland Yard with a feeling of surprise. He knewDetective-Sergeant Starmidge well enough by name and reputation. He wasthe man who had unravelled the mysteries of the Primrose Hill murder--aparticularly exciting and underground affair. It was he who had beenintimately associated with the bringing to justice of the Camden TownGang--a group of daring and successful criminals which had baffled theLondon police for two years. Neale had read all about Starmidge'sactivities in both cases, and of the hairbreadth escape he had gonethrough in connection with the second. And he had formed an idea ofhim--which he now saw to be a totally erroneous one. For Starmidge didnot look at all like a detective--in Neale's opinion. Instead of beingelderly, and sinister, and close of eye and mouth, he was a somewhatshy-looking, open-faced, fresh-coloured young man, still under thirty, modest of demeanour, given to smiling, who might from his generalappearance have been, say, a professional cricketer, or a youngcommercial traveller, or anything but an expert criminal catcher. 

"Only just got here, and a bit tired, miss, " continued Polke, waving hishand again at the detective. "So I'm just giving him a refresher toliven his brains up. He'll want 'em--before we've done. "

Betty took the chair which Polke offered her, and looked at the strangerwith interest. She knew nothing about Starmidge, and she thought himquite different to any preconceived notion which she had ever had of menof his calling. 

"I hope you'll be able to help us, " she said politely, as Starmidge, murmuring something about his best respects to his host, took awhisky-and-soda from Polke's hand. "Do you think you will--and has Mr. Polke told you all about it?"

"Given him a mere outline, miss, " remarked Polke. "I'll prime him beforehe goes to bed. Yes--he knows the main facts. "

"And what do you propose to do--first?" demanded Betty. 

Starmidge smiled and set down his glass. 

"Why, first, " he answered, "first, I think I should like to see aphotograph of Mr. Horbury. "

Polke moved to a bureau in the corner of his dining-room. 

"I can fit you up, " he said. "I've a portrait here that Mr. Horbury gaveme not so long ago. There you are!"

He produced a cabinet photograph and handed it to Starmidge, who lookedat it and laid it down on the table without comment. 

"I suppose that conveys nothing to you?" asked Betty. 

"Well, " replied Starmidge, with another smile, "if a man's missing, onenaturally wants to know what he's like. And if there's any advertisingof him to be done--by poster, I mean--it ought to have a recent portraitof him. "

"To be sure, " agreed Polke. 

"So far as I understand matters, " continued Starmidge, "this gentlemanleft his house on Saturday evening, hasn't been seen since, and there'san idea that he probably walked across country to a place calledEllersdeane. But up to now there's no proof that he did. I think that'sall, Mr. Polke?"

"All!" assented Polke. 

"No!" said Neale. "Miss Fosdyke and I have brought you some news. Mr. Horbury must have crossed Ellersdeane Hollow on Saturday night. Look atthis!--and I'll tell you all about it. "

The superintendent and the detective listened silently to Neale'saccount of the meeting with Creasy, and Betty, watching Starmidge'sface, saw that he was quietly taking in all the points of importance. 

"Is this tin-man to be depended upon?" he asked, when Neale hadfinished. "Is he known?"

"I know him, " answered Polke. "He's come to this neighbourhood for manyyears. Yes--an honest chap enough--bit given to poaching, no doubt, butstraight enough in all other ways--no complaint of him that I ever heardof. I should believe all he says about this. "

"Then, as that's undoubtedly Mr. Horbury's pipe, and as this gentlemansaw him smoking it at two o'clock on Saturday, and as Creasy picked itup underneath Ellersdeane Tower on Sunday evening, " said Starmidge, "there seems no doubt that Mr. Horbury went that way, and dropped itwhere it was found. But--I can't think he was carrying LordEllersdeane's jewels home!"

"Why?" asked Neale. 

"Is it likely?" suggested Starmidge. "One's got--always--to considerprobability. Is it probable that a bank manager would put a hundredthousand pounds' worth of jewels in his pocket, and walk across a lonelystretch of land at that time of night, just to hand them over to theirowner? I think not--especially as he hadn't been asked to do so. I thinkthat if Mr. Horbury had been in a hurry to deliver up these jewels, he'dhave driven out to Lord Ellersdeane's place. "

"Good!" muttered Polke. "That's the more probable thing. "

"Where are the jewels, then?" asked Neale. 

Starmidge glanced at Polke with one expression, at Betty and Neale withanother. 

"They haven't been searched for yet, have they?" he asked quietly. "Theymay be--somewhere about, you know. "

"You mean to search for them?" exclaimed Betty. 

"I don't know what I intend to do, " replied Starmidge, smiling. "Ihaven't even thought. I shall have thought a lot by morning. But--thecountry's being searched, isn't it, for news of Mr. Horbury?--perhapswe'll hear something. It's a difficult thing for a well-known man to getclear away from a little place like this. No!--what I'd like toknow--what I want to satisfy myself about is--did Mr. Horbury go away atall? Is there really anything missing from the bank? Are those jewelsreally missing? You see, " concluded Starmidge, looking round his circleof listeners, "there's an awful lot to take into account. "

At that moment Polke's domestic servant tapped at the door and put herhead inside the room. 

"If you please, Mr. Polke, there's Mrs. Pratt, from the Station Hotel, would like a word with you, " she said. 

The superintendent hurried from the room--to return at once with astout, middle-aged woman, who, as she entered, raised her veil andglanced half-suspiciously at Polke's other visitors. 

"All friends here, Mrs. Pratt, " said the superintendent reassuringly. "You know young Mr. Neale well enough. This lady is Mr. Horbury'sniece--anxious to find him. That gentleman's a friend of mine--you cansay aught you like before him. Well, ma'am!--you think you can tell mesomething about this affair? What might it be, now?"

Mrs. Pratt, taking the chair which Starmidge placed for her at the endof the table, nodded a general greeting to the company, and lifting herveil and untying her bonnet-strings, revealed a good-naturedcountenance. 

"Well, Mr. Polke, " she said, turning to the superintendent, "taking yourword for it that we're all friends--me being pretty sure, all the same, that this gentleman's one of your own profession, which I don't objectto--I'll tell you what it is I've come up for, special, as it were, andme not waiting until after closing-time to do it. But that town-crier'sbeen down our way, and hearing him making his call between our house andthe station, and learning what it was all about, thinks I to myself, 'I'd best go up and see the super and tell him what I know. ' And, "concluded Mrs. Pratt, beaming around her, "here I am!"

"Ay--and what do you know, ma'am?" asked Polke. "Something, of course. "

"Or I shouldn't be here, " agreed Mrs. Pratt, smoothing out a fold of hergown. "Well--Saturday afternoon, the time being not so many minutesafter the 5. 30 got in, and therefore you might say at the outside twentyminutes to six, a strange gentleman walked across from the station toour hotel, which is, as you're all well aware, exactly opposite. Ihappened to be in the bar-parlour window at the time, and I saw himcrossing--saw, likewise, from the way he looked about him, and up at thetown above us, that he'd never been in Scarnham before. And happen I'dbest tell you what like he was, while the recollection's fresh in mymind--a little gentleman he was, very well dressed in what you mightcall the professional style; dark clothes and so forth, and a silktop-hat; I should say about fifty years of age, with a fresh complexionand a biggish grey moustache and a nicely rolled umbrella--quite thelittle swell he was. He made for our door, and I went to the bar-windowto attend to him. He wanted to know if he could get some food, and Isaid of course he could--we'd some uncommon nice chops in the house. Sohe ordered three chops and setterers--and then he asked if we'd atelephone in the house, and could he use it. And, of course, I told himwe had, and showed him where it was--after which he wanted a localdirectory, and I gave him Scammond's Guide. He turned that over a bit, and then, when he'd found what he wanted, he went to our telephonebox--which, as you're well aware, Mr. Polke, is in our front hall. Andinto it he popped. "

Mrs. Pratt paused a moment, and gave her listeners a knowing look, as ifshe was now about to narrate the most important part of her story. 

"But what you mayn't be aware of, Mr. Polke, " she continued, "is thatour telephone box, which has glass panels in its upper parts, has atthis present time one of these panels broken--our pot-man did it, carrying a plank through the hall. So that any one passing to and fro, as it were, when anybody's using the telephone, can't help hearing aword or two of what's being said inside. Now, of course, I was passingin and out, giving orders for this gentleman's chops, when he was in thebox. And I heard a bit of what he said, though I didn't, naturally, hearaught of what was said to him, nor who by. But it's in consequence ofwhat I did hear, and of what Tolson, the town-crier, has been shoutingdown our way tonight, that I come up here to see you. "

"Much obliged to you, Mrs. Pratt, " said Polke. "Very glad to hearanything that may have to do with Mr. Horbury's disappearance. Now, what did you hear?"

"What I heard, " replied the landlady, "was this here--disjointed, as youwould term it. First of all I hear the gentleman ask for 'Town 23. ' Now, of course, you know whose number that there is, Mr. Polke. "

"Chestermarke's Bank, " said Neale, turning to Betty. 

"Chestermarke's Bank it is, sir, " assented Mrs. Pratt. "Which you knowvery well, as also do I, having oft called it up. Very well--I didn'thear no more just then, me going into the dining-room to see that ourmaid laid the table proper. But when I was going back to the bar, Iheard more. 'Along the river-side?' says the gentleman, 'Straight onfrom where I am--all right. ' Then after a minute, 'At seven-thirty, then?' he says. 'All right--I'll meet you. ' And after that he ringsoff--and he went into the dining-room, and in due course he had hischops, and some tart and cheese, and a pint of our bitter ale, and tookhis time, and perhaps about a quarter past seven he came to the bar andpaid, and he took a drop of Scotch whisky. After which he says, 'It'svery possible, landlady, that I may have to stop in the town allnight--have you a nice room that you can let me?' 'Certainly, sir, ' saysI. 'We've very good rooms, and bathrooms, and every convenience--shall Ishow you one?' 'No, ' says he, 'this seems a good house, and I'll takeyour word for it--keep your best room for me, then. ' And after that helighted a cigar and went out, saying he'd be back later, and he crossedthe road and went down on the river-bank, and walked slowly alongtowards the bottom of the town. And Mr. Polke and company, " concludedMrs. Pratt, solemnly turning from one listener to another, "that was thelast I saw of him. For--he never came back!"

"Never came back!" echoed Polke. 

"Not even the ghost of him!" said Mrs. Pratt. "I waited up myself tilltwelve, and then I decided that he'd changed his mind and was stoppingwith somebody he knew, which person, Mr. Polke, I took to be Mr. Horbury. Why? 'Cause he'd rung up Chestermarke's Bank--and who should hewant at Chestermarke's Bank at six o'clock of a Saturday evening but Mr. Horbury? There wouldn't be nobody else there--as Mr. Neale'll agree. "

"You never heard of this gentleman being in the town on Sunday ortoday?" asked Polke. 

"Not a word!" replied Mrs. Pratt. "And never saw him go to the station, neither, to leave the town. Now, as you know, Mr. Polke, we've only twotrains go away from here on Sundays, and there's only four on anyweek-day, us being naught but a branch line, and as our bar-parlourwindow is exactly opposite the station, I see everybody that goes andcomes--I always was one for looking out of window! And I'm sure thatlittle gentleman didn't go away neither yesterday nor today. And that'sall I know, " concluded Mrs. Pratt, rising, "and if it's any use to you, you're welcome, and hopeful I am that your poor uncle'll be found, Miss, for a nicer gentleman I could never wish to meet!"

Mrs. Pratt departed amidst expressions of gratitude and policeadmonitions to keep her news to herself for awhile, and Betty and Nealeturned eagerly to the famous detective. But Starmidge appeared to haveentered upon a period of silence, and made no further observation thanthat he would wait upon Miss Fosdyke in the morning, and presently thetwo young people followed Mrs. Pratt into the street and turned into theMarket-Place. The last of the evening revellers were just coming out ofthe closing taverns, and to a group of them, Tolson, the town-crier, wasdismally calling forth his announcement that one hundred pounds rewardwould be paid to any person who first gave news of having seen Mr. JohnHorbury on the previous Saturday evening or since. The clanging of hisbell, and the strident notes of his cracked voice, sounded in thedistance as Betty said good-night to Neale and turned sadly into theScarnham Arms. 

CHAPTER IX

NO FURTHER INFORMATION

Chestermarke's clerks found no difficulty in obtaining access to thebank when they presented themselves at its doors at nine o'clock nextmorning. Both partners were already there, and appeared to have beenthere for some time. And Joseph at once called Neale into the privateparlour, and drew his attention to a large poster which lay on aside-table, its ink still wet from the printing press. 

"Let Patten put that up in one of the front windows, Neale, " he said. "It's just come in--I gave the copy for it last night. Read it over--Ithink it's satisfactory, eh?"

Neale bent over the big, bold letters, and silently read theannouncement:--

 "Messrs. Chestermarke, in view of certain unauthorized rumours, now circulating in the town and neighbourhood, respecting the disappearance of their late manager, Mr. John Horbury, take the earliest opportunity of announcing that all Customers' Securities and Deposits in their hands are safe, and that business will be conducted in the usual way. "

"That make things clear?" asked Joseph, closely watching his clerk. "Toour clients, I mean?"

"Quite clear, I should say, " replied Neale. 

"Then get it up at once, before opening hours, and save all the botherof questions, " commanded Joseph. "And if people do come askingquestions--as some of them will!--tell them not to botherthemselves--nor us. We don't want to waste our time interviewing foolsall the morning. "

Neale took the poster and went out, with no further remark. Andpresently the junior clerk, with the aid of a few wafers, fixed theannouncement in the window which looked out on the Market-Place, andpeople began to gather round and to read it, and, after the usualfashion of country-born folk, then went away to talk about it. In halfan hour it was known in every shop and tavern parlour in ScarnhamMarket-Place that despite the town-crier's announcement, and the wildrumours of the night before, Chestermarke's Bank was all right, andChestermarkes were already speaking of Horbury in the past tense--he was(wherever he might be) no longer the manager of that ancient concern; hewas the late manager. 

At ten o'clock Superintendent Polke, bluff and cheery as usual, andDetective-Sergeant Starmidge, eyeing his new surroundings withappreciative curiosity, strolled round the corner from thepolice-station and approached the bank. Half a dozen loungers weregathered before the window, reading the poster; the two police officialsjoined them and also read--in silence. Then, with a look at each other, they turned into the door which Patten had just opened. Neale hurried tothe counter to meet them. 

"Well, Mr. Neale, " said Polke, as if he had called on the most ordinarybusiness, "we'll just have a word with your principals, if they please. A mere interchange of views, you know: we shan't keep 'em. "

"They don't want bothering, " whispered Neale, bending over the counter. "Shan't I do instead?"

"No, sir!" answered Polke. "Nothing but principals will do! Here, Starmidge, give Mr. Neale one of your official cards. "

Neale took the card and disappeared into the parlour, where he laid itbefore Gabriel. 

"Mr. Polke is with him, sir, " he said. "They say they won't detain you. "

Gabriel tossed the card over to his nephew with a look of inquiry:Joseph sneered at it, and threw it into a waste-paper basket. 

"Tell them we don't wish to see them, " he answered. "We----"

"Stop a bit!" interrupted Gabriel. "I think perhaps we'd better seethem. We may as well see them, and have done with it. Bring them in, Neale. "

Polke and Starmidge, presently entering, found themselves coldlygreeted. Gabriel made the slightest inclination of his head, in responseto Polke's salutation and the detective's bow: Joseph pointedly gave noheed to either. 

"Well?" demanded the senior partner. 

"We've just called, Mr. Chestermarke, to hear if you've anything to sayto us about this matter of Mr. Horbury's, " said Polke. "Of course, youknow it's been put in our hands. "

"Not by us!" snapped Gabriel. 

"Quite so, sir, by Lord Ellersdeane, and by Mr. Horbury's niece, MissFosdyke, " assented Polke. "The young lady, of course, is naturallyanxious about her uncle's safety, and Lord Ellersdeane is anxious aboutthe Countess's jewels. And we hear that securities of yours aremissing. "

"We haven't told you so, " retorted Gabriel. 

"We haven't even approached you, " remarked Joseph. 

"Just so!" agreed Polke. "But, under the circumstances----"

"We have nothing to say to you, superintendent, " interrupted Gabriel. "We can't help anything that Lord Ellersdeane has done, nor anythingthat Miss Fosdyke likes to do. Lord Ellersdeane is not, and never hasbeen, a customer of ours. Miss Fosdyke acts independently. If they callyou in--as they seem to have done very thoroughly--it's their look out. We haven't! When we want your assistance, we'll let you know. Atpresent--we don't. "

He waved one of the white hands towards the door as he spoke, as if tocommand withdrawal. But Polke lingered. 

"You don't propose to give the police any information, then, Mr. Chestermarke?" he asked quietly. 

"At present we don't propose to give any information to anybody whom itdoesn't concern, " replied Gabriel. "As regards the mere surface facts ofMr. John Horbury's disappearance, you know as much as we do. "

"You don't propose to join in any search for him or any attempt todiscover his whereabouts, sir?" inquired Starmidge, speaking for thefirst time. 

Gabriel looked up from his paper, and slowly eyed his questioner. 

"What we propose to do is a matter for ourselves, " he answered coldly. "For no one else. "

Starmidge bowed and turned away, and Polke, after hesitating a moment, said good-morning and followed him from the room. The two men nodded toNeale and went out into the Market-Place. 

"Well?" said Polke. 

"Queer couple!" remarked Starmidge. 

Polke jerked his thumb at the poster in the bank window. 

"Of course!" he said, "so long as they can satisfy their customers thatall's right so far as they're concerned, we can't get at what is missingthat belongs to the Chestermarkes. "

"There are ways of finding that out, " replied Starmidge quietly. 

"What ways, now?" asked Polke. "We can't make 'em tell us their privateaffairs. Supposing Horbury has robbed them, they aren't forced to tellus how much or how little he's robbed 'em of!"

"All in good time, " remarked the detective. "We're only beginning. Let'sgo and talk to this Miss Fosdyke a bit. She doesn't mind what money shespends on this business, you say?"

"Not if it costs her her last penny!" answered Polke. 

"All right, " said Starmidge. "Fosdyke's Entire represents a lot ofpennies. We'll just have a word or two with her. "

Betty, looking out of her window on the Market-Place, had seen the twomen leave Chestermarke's Bank, and was waiting eagerly for their coming. She listened intently to Polke's account of the interview with thepartners, and her cheeks glowed indignantly as he brought it to an end. 

"Shameful!" she exclaimed. "To make accusations against my uncle, andthen to refuse to say what they are! But--can't you make them say?"

"We'll try, in good time, " answered Starmidge. "Slow and steady's thegame here. For, whatever it is, it's a deep game. "

"Nothing has been heard since I saw you last night?" asked Bettyanxiously. "No one has brought you any news?"

"No news of any sort, miss, " replied Polke. 

"What's to be done, then, next?" she inquired, looking from one to theother. "Do let us do something!"

"Oh, we'll do a lot, Miss Fosdyke, before the day's out, " said Starmidgereassuringly. "I'm going to work just now. Now, the first thing is, publicity! We must have all this in the newspapers at once. " He turnedto the superintendent. "I suppose there's some journalist here in thetown who sends news to the London press, isn't there?" he asked. 

"Parkinson, editor of the 'Scarnham Advertiser, ' he does, " repliedPolke, with promptitude. "He's a sort of reporter-editor, youunderstand, and jolly glad of a bit of extra stuff. "

"That's the first thing, " said Starmidge. "The next, we must have areward bill printed immediately, and circulated broadcast. It must havea portrait on it--I'll take that photograph you showed me last night. And--we'll have to offer a specific reward in each. How much is it tobe, Miss Fosdyke? For you'll have to pay it, you know. "

"Anything you like!" said Betty eagerly. "A thousand pounds?--would thatdo, to begin with. "

"We'll say half of it, " answered Starmidge. "Very good. Now, Mr. Polke, if you'll tell me where this Mr. Parkinson's to be found, and where thebest printing office in the place is, I'll go to work. "

"Scammonds are the best printers--and they're quick, " said Polke. "ButI'll come with you. "

"Is there anything I can do?" asked Betty. "If I could only be doingsomething!"

Starmidge nodded his comprehension and mused a while. 

"Just so!" he said. "You don't want to sit and wait. Well, there issomething you might do, Miss Fosdyke, as you're Mr. Horbury's niece. Mr. Polke's been telling me about Mr. Horbury's household arrangements. Now, as you are a relation, suppose you call on his housekeeper, who was thelast person to see him, and get all the information you can out of her?Draw her on to talk--you never know what interesting point you mayn'tget in that way. And--are you Mr. Horbury's nearest relation?"

"Yes--the very nearest--next-of-kin, " answered Betty. 

"Then ask to see his papers--his desk--his private belongings, " saidStarmidge. "Demand to see them! You've the legal right. And let usknow--you'll always find me somewhere about Mr. Polke's--how you geton. Now, superintendent, we'll get to work. "

Outside the Scarnham Arms, Starmidge looked at his companion with a slysmile. 

"Are you anything of a betting man?" he asked. 

"Naught much--odd half-crown now and then, " replied Polke. "Why?"

"Lay you a fiver to a shilling Miss Fosdyke won't see anything ofHorbury's--nor get any information!" answered Starmidge, more slyly thanever. "She won't be allowed!"

Polke gave the detective a shrewd look. 

"I dare say!" he said. "Whew!--it's a queer game, this, Starmidge. Firstmoves of it, anyway. "

"Let's get on to the next, " counselled Starmidge. "Where's thisjournalist?"

Mr. Parkinson, a high-browed, shock-headed young man, who combined theduties of editor and reporter with those of advertisement canvasser andbusiness manager of the one four-page sheet which Scarnham boasted, received the two police officials in a small office in which there wasjust room for himself and his visitors to squeeze themselves. 

"I was about coming round to you, Mr. Polke, " he said. "Can you let mehave the facts of this Horbury affair?"

"We've come to save you the trouble, " answered Polke. "Thisgentleman--Detective-Sergeant Starmidge, of the C. I. D. , Mr. Parkinson--wants to have a bit of a transaction with you. "

Parkinson eyed the famous detective with as much wonder as Neale hadfelt on the previous evening. 

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "Pleased to meet you, sir--I've heard of you. Whatcan I do for you, Mr. Starmidge?"

"Can you wire--at our expense--a full account of all that I shall tellyou, to a London Press agency that'll distribute it amongst all theLondon papers at once?" asked Starmidge. "You know what I mean?"

"I can, " answered Parkinson. "And principal provincials, too. It'll bein all the evening papers this very night, sir. "

"Then come on, " said Starmidge, dropping into a chair by the editorialdesk. "I'll tell you all about it. "

Polke listened admiringly while the detective carefully narrated thefacts of what was henceforth to be known as the Scarnham Mystery. Nothing appeared to have escaped Starmidge's observation and attention. And he was surprised to find that the detective's presentation of thecase was not that which he himself would have made. Starmidge did nomore than refer to the fact that Lady Ellersdeane's jewels were missing:he said nothing whatever about the rumours that some of Chestermarke'ssecurities were said to have disappeared. But on one point he laid greatstress--the visit of the little gentleman with the large grey moustacheto the Station Hotel at Scarnham on the evening whereon John Horburydisappeared, and to the fragments of conversation overheard by Mrs. Pratt. He described the stranger as Mrs. Pratt had described him, andappealed to him, if he read this news, to come forward at once. Finally, he supplemented his account with a full description of John Horbury, carefully furnished by the united efforts of Polke and Parkinson, andwound up by announcing the five hundred pounds reward. 

"All over England, tonight, and tomorrow morning, sir, " said Parkinson, gathering up his copy. "Now I'm off to wire this at once. Great enginethe Press, Mr. Starmidge!--I dare say you find it very useful in yourwalk of life. "

Starmidge followed Polke into the Market-Place again. 

"Now for that reward bill, " he said. "I don't set so much store by it, but it's got to be done. It all helps. There's Miss Fosdyke--going tohave a try at her bit. "

He pointed down the broad pavement with an amused smile. Miss BettyFosdyke, attired in her smartest, was just entering the portals ofChestermarke's Bank. 

CHAPTER X

THE CHESTERMARKE WAY

Mrs. Carswell herself opened the door of the bank-house in response toMiss Fosdyke's ring. She started a little at sight of the visitor, andher eyes glanced involuntarily and, as it seemed to Betty, withsomething of uneasiness, at the side-door which led into theChestermarkes' private parlour. And Betty immediately interpreted themeaning of that glance. 

"No, Mrs. Carswell, " she said, before the housekeeper could speak, "Ihaven't come to call on either Mr. Gabriel or Mr. Joseph Chestermarke--Icame to see you. Mayn't I come in?"

Mrs. Carswell stepped back into the hall, and Betty followed. For amoment the two looked at each other. And in the elder woman's eyes therewas still the same expression, and it was with obvious uncertainty, ifnot with positive suspicion, that she waited. 

"You have not heard anything of Mr. Horbury?" asked Betty, who was notslow to notice the housekeeper's demeanour. 

"Nothing!" replied Mrs. Carswell, with a shake of the head. "Nothing atall! No one has told me anything. "

Betty turned to the door of the dining-room. 

"Very well, " she said. "I dare say you know, Mrs. Carswell, that I ammy uncle's nearest relation. Now I want to go through his papers andthings. I want to see his desk--his last letters--anything--andeverything there is. "

She laid a hand on the door--and Mrs. Carswell suddenly found hertongue. 

"Oh, miss!" she said, in a low, frightened voice, "you can't! Thatroom's locked up. So is the study--where all Mr. Horbury's papers are. So is his bedroom. Mr. Joseph Chestermarke locked them all up lastnight--he has the keys. Nobody's to go into them--nor into any otherroom--without his permission. "

Betty's cheeks began to glow, and an obstinate look to settle about herlips. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "But I think I shall have something to say to that, Mrs. Carswell. Ask Mr. Joseph Chestermarke to come here a minute. "

The housekeeper shrunk back. 

"I daren't, Miss Fosdyke!" she answered. "It would be as much as myplace was worth!"

"I thought you were my uncle's housekeeper, " suggested Betty. "Aren'tyou? Or are you employed by Mr. Joseph Chestermarke? Come, now?"

Mrs. Carswell hesitated. It was very evident that she was afraid. But ofwhat?

"So far as I know, " continued Betty, "this is my uncle's house, andyou're his servant. Am I right or wrong, Mrs. Carswell?"

"Right as regards my being engaged by Mr. Horbury, " replied thehousekeeper. "But the house belongs to--them! Mr. Horbury--so Iunderstand--had the use of it--it was reckoned as part of his salary. It's their house, miss. "

"But, anyway, my uncle's effects are his--and I mean to see them, "insisted Betty. "If you won't call Mr. Joseph--or Mr. Gabriel--out, Ishall walk into the bank at the front door, and demand to see them. You'd better let one of them know I'm here, Mrs. Carswell--I'm not goingto stand any nonsense. "

Mrs. Carswell hesitated a little, but in the end she knocked timidly atthe private door. And presently Joseph Chestermarke opened it, lookedout, saw Betty, and came into the hall. He offered his visitor no politegreeting, and for once he forgot his accustomed sneering smile. Instead, he gave the housekeeper a swift look which sent her away in haste, andhe turned to Betty with an air of annoyance. 

"Yes?" he asked abruptly. "What do you want?"

"I want to go into my uncle's house--into his rooms, " said Betty. "I amhis next-of-kin--I wish to examine his papers. "

"You can't!" answered Joseph. "We haven't examined them ourselves yet. "

"What right have you to examine them?" demanded Betty. 

"Every right!" retorted Joseph. 

"Not his private belongings!" she said firmly. 

"This is our house--you're not going into it, " declared Joseph. "Nobody's going into it--without our permission. "

"We'll see about that, Mr. Joseph Chestermarke!" replied Betty. "If--supposing--my uncle is dead, I've the right to examine anythinghe's left. I insist upon it! I insist on seeing his papers, lookingthrough his desk. And at once!"

"No!" said Joseph. "Nothing of the sort. We don't know that you've anyright. We don't know that you're his next-of-kin. We'renot--legally--aware that you're his niece. You say you are--but we don'tknow it--as a matter of real fact. You'd better go away. "

Betty's cheeks flamed hotly and her eyes flashed. 

"So that's your attitude--to me!" she exclaimed. "Very well! But youshall soon see whether I am what I say I am. What are you and your uncleimplying, suggesting, hinting at?" she went on, suddenly letting hernaturally hot temper get the better of her. "Do you realize what anutterly unworthy part you are playing? You accuse my uncle of being athief--and you dare not make any specified accusation against him! Youcharge him with stealing your securities--and you daren't tell thepolice what securities! I don't believe you've a security missing!Nobody believes it! The police don't believe it. Lord Ellersdeanedoesn't believe it. Why, your own clerk, Mr. Neale, who ought to know, if anybody does, doesn't believe it! You're telling lies, Mr. JosephChestermarke--there! Lies! I'll denounce you to the whole town--I'llexpose you! I believe my uncle has met with some foul play--and as sureas I am his niece I'll probe the whole thing to the bottom. Are yougoing to admit me to those rooms?"

The door of the private room, which Joseph had left slightly ajarbehind him, was pushed open a little, and Gabriel's colourless facelooked out. 

"Tell the young woman to go and see a solicitor, " he said, and vanishedagain. 

Joseph glanced at Betty, who was still staring indignantly at him. 

"You hear?" he said quietly. "Now you'd better go away. You are notgoing in there. "

Betty suddenly turned and walked out. She was across the Market-Placeand at the door of the Scarnham Arms before her self-possession had comeback to her. And she was aware then that a gentleman, who had justalighted from a horse which a groom was leading away to the stable yard, was looking and smiling at her. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Is it you, Lord Ellersdeane?--I beg your pardon--Iwas preoccupied. "

"So I saw, " said the Earl. "I'd watched you come across from the Bank. Is there any news this morning?"

"Come up to my sitting-room and let us talk, " said Betty. She led theway upstairs and closed her door on herself and her visitor. "No news ofmy uncle, " she continued, turning to the Earl. "Have you any?"

The Earl shook his head disappointedly. 

"No!" he replied. "I wish I had! I myself and a lot of my men have beensearching all round Ellersdeane--practically all night. We've madeinquiries at each of the neighbouring villages--without result. Have thepolice heard anything?--I've only just come into town. "

"You haven't seen Polke, then?" said Betty. "Oh, well, he heardsomething last night. " She went on to tell the Earl of the meeting withthe tinker, and of Mrs. Pratt's account of the mysterious stranger, andof what Starmidge was now doing. "It all seems such slow work, " sheconcluded, "but I suppose the police can't move any faster. "

"You heard nothing at the bank itself--from the Chestermarkes?" askedthe Earl. 

"I heard sufficient to make me as--as absent-minded as I was when youmet me just now! I went there, as my uncle's nearest relation, with asimple request to see his papers and things--a very natural desire, surely. The Chestermarkes have locked up his rooms--and they ordered meout--showed me the door!"

"How very extraordinary!" exclaimed the Earl. "Really!--in so manywords?"

"I think Joseph had the grace to say I had better go away, " said Betty. "And Gabriel--who called me a young woman--told me to go and see asolicitor, which, of course, " she added reflectively, "is precisely whatI shall do--as they will very soon find!"

The Earl stepped over to one of the windows, and stood for a moment ortwo silently looking out on the Market-Place. 

"I don't understand this at all, " he said at last. "What is the meaningof all this reserve on the Chestermarkes' part? Why didn't they tell thepolice what securities are missing? Why don't they let you, his niece, examine Horbury's effects? What right have they to fasten up hishouse?"

"Their house--so Mrs. Carswell says, " remarked Betty. 

"Oh, well--it may be their house, strictly speaking, " agreed the Earl, "but Horbury was its tenant, anyway, and the furniture and things in itare his--I'm sure of that, for he and I shared a similar taste incollecting old oak, and I know where he bought most of his possessions. I can't make the behaviour of these people out at all--and I'm gettingmore and more uneasy about the whole thing, Miss Fosdyke--as I'm sureyou are. I wonder if the police will find the man who came to theStation Hotel on Saturday? Now, if they could lay hands on him, and getto know who he was, and what he wanted, and if he really met youruncle----"

The Earl suddenly paused and turned from the window with a glance atBetty. 

"There's young Mr. Neale coming across from the bank, " he observed. "Ithink he's coming here. By the by, isn't he a relation of Horbury's?"

"No, " said Betty. "But my uncle was his guardian. Is he coming here, Lord Ellersdeane?"

"Straight here, " replied the Earl. "Perhaps he's got some news. "

Betty had the door open before Neale could knock at it. He came in witha smile, and glanced half-whimsically, half as if he had queer news togive, at the two people who looked so inquiringly at him. 

"Well?" demanded Betty. "What is it, Wallie? Have these two preciousprincipals sent you with news?"

"They're not my principals any longer, " answered Neale. He laid downsome books and an old jacket on the table. "That's my old working coat, "he went on, with a laugh. "I've worn it for the last time--atChestermarke's. They've dismissed me. "

Lord Ellersdeane turned sharply from the window, and Betty indulged in acry of indignation. 

"Dismissed--you?" she exclaimed. "Dismissed!"

"With a quarter's salary in lieu of notice, " laughed Neale, slapping hispocket. "I've got it here--in gold. "

"But--why?" asked Betty. 

Neale shook his head at her. 

"Because you told Joseph that I didn't believe them when they said thatsome of their securities were missing, " he answered. "You did it! Assoon as you'd gone, they had me in, told me that it was contrary totheir principles to retain servants who took sides with other peopleagainst them, handed me a cheque, and told me to cash it forthwith anddepart. And--here I am!"

"You don't seem to mind this very much, Mr. Neale, " observed the Earl, looking keenly at this victim of summary treatment. "Do you?"

"If your lordship really wants to know, " answered Neale, "I don't! I'mtruly thankful. It's only what would have happened--in another way. Imeant to leave Chestermarke's. If it hadn't been for Mr. Horbury, Ishould have left ages ago. I hate banking! I hated the life. And--Idislike Chestermarke's! Immensely! Now, I'll go and have a free lifesomewhere in Canada or some equally spacious clime--where I canbreathe. "

"Not at all!" said Betty decidedly. "You shall come and be my manager inLondon. The brewery wants one, badly. You shall have a handsome salary, Wallie--much more than you had at that beastly bank!"

"Very kind of you, I'm sure, " laughed Neale. "But I think I'm inclinedto put breweries in the same line with banks. Don't you be too rash, Betty--I'm not exactly cut out for commercialism. Not, " he addedreflectively, "not that I haven't been a very good servant toChestermarke's. I have! But Chestermarkes are--what they are!"

The Earl, who had been watching the two young people with something ofamused interest, suddenly came forward from the window. 

"Mr. Neale!" he said. 

"My lord!" responded Neale. 

"What's your honest opinion about your late principals?" asked the Earl. 

Neale shook his head slowly and significantly. 

"I don't know, " he answered. 

"Do you know that they've--just now--refused Miss Fosdyke permission toexamine her uncle's belongings?" continued the Earl. "That they wouldn'teven let her enter the house?"

"No, I didn't know, " replied Neale. "But I'm not surprised. Nothing thatthose two could do would ever surprise me. "

"Feeling that, what do you advise in this case?" asked the Earl. "Come!--you're no longer in their employ--you can speak freely now. Whatdo you think?"

"Well, " said Neale, after a pause, and speaking with unusual gravity, "Ithink the police ought to make a thorough examination of thebank-house--I'm surprised it hasn't been thought of before. "

The Earl picked up his hat. 

"I've been thinking of it all the morning!" he said. "Come--let us allgo round to Polke. "

CHAPTER XI

THE SEARCH-WARRANT

As they turned out of the Market-Place into the street leading to thepolice-station, Lord Ellersdeane and his companions became aware of acurious figure which was slowly preceding them--that of a very old manwhose massive head and long white hair, falling in thick shocks abouthis neck, was innocent of covering, whose tall, erect form was closelywrapped about in a great, many-caped horseman's cloak which looked as ifit had descended to him from some early Georgian ancestor. In one handhe carried a long staff; the other clutched an ancient folio; altogetherhe was something very much out of the common, and Neale, catching sightof him, nudged Betty Fosdyke's elbow and pointed ahead. 

"One of the sights of Scarnham!" he whispered. "Old Batterley, theantiquary. Never seen with a hat, and never without that cloak, hisstaff, and a book under his arm. You needn't be astonished if hesuddenly stops and begins reading his book in the open street--it's ahabit of his. "

But the antiquary apparently had other business. He turned into thepolice-station, and when the three visitors followed him a moment later, he was already in Polke's private office, and Polke and Starmidge weregazing speculatively at him. Polke turned to the newcomers, as the oldman, having fitted on a pair of large spectacles, recognized the Earland executed a deep bow. 

"Mr. Batterley's just called with a suggestion, my lord, " observedPolke, good-humouredly. "He's heard of Mr. Horbury's disappearance, andof the loss of your lordship's jewels, and he says that an explanationof the whole thing may be got if we search the bank-house. "

"Thoroughly!" said Batterley, with a warning shake of his big head. "Thoroughly--thoroughly, Mr. Polke! No use just walking through therooms, and seeing what any housemaid would see--the thing must be doneproperly. Your lordship, " he continued, turning to the Earl, "knows thatmany houses in our Market-Place possess secret passages, double-staircases, and the like--Horbury's house is certainly one ofthose that do. It has, of course, been modernized. My memory is notquite as good as it was, but I have a recollection that when I was aboy, well over seventy years ago--I am, as your lordship is aware, nearer ninety than eighty--there were hiding-places discovered in thebank-house at the time Matthew Chestermarke, grandfather of the presentGabriel, had it altered: in fact, I am quite sure I was taken by myfather to see them. Now, of course, many of these places were brickedup, and so on, but I think--it is my impression--that a double staircasewas left untouched, and some recesses in the panelling of thegarden-room. That garden-room, Mr. Polke--if you know what I mean?"

"Mr. Batterley, " remarked the Earl, "means the panelled room which looksout on the garden. Mr. Horbury has used it as a study. "

"The garden-room, " continued the old antiquary, "should be particularlyexamined. It is into that room that the double staircase opens--by adoor concealed in the recess at the side of the fire-place. There were, I am sure, recesses behind the panelling in that room. Now, Horbury mayhave known of them--he had tastes of an antiquarian disposition--in anamateur way, you know. At any rate, Mr. Polke, you should examine thehouse--and especially that room, for Horbury may have hidden LordEllersdeane's property there. A deeply interesting room that!" added theold man musingly. "I haven't been in it for some sixty years or so, butI remember it quite well. It was in that room that Jasper Chestermarkemurdered Sir Gervase Rudd. "

Starmidge, who, like the rest of them, had been listening eagerly toBatterley's talk, turned sharply to him. 

"Did you say murdered, sir?" he said. 

"A well-known story!" answered the old man half-impatiently, as he rosefrom his chair. "An ancestor of these Chestermarkes--he killed a man inthat very room. Well--that's what I suggest, Mr. Polke. And--for anotherreason. As Lord Ellersdeane there knows--being, as his lordship is, amember of our society--the bank-house is so old that underneath it theremay be such matters as old wells, old drains. Now, supposing Horbury haddiscovered some way under the present house, some secret passage orsomething, and that he went down into it on Sunday--eh? He may havefallen into one of these places--and be lying there dead or helpless. It's possible, Mr. Polke, it's quite possible. I make the suggestion toyou for what it's worth, you know. "

The old man bowed himself out and went away, and Polke turned to LordEllersdeane and Betty. 

"I'm glad your lordship's come in, " he said. "Quite apart from what Mr. Batterley suggests, we'll have to examine that bank-house. It's allnonsense--allowing the Chestermarkes to have their own way abouteverything! It's time we examined Horbury's effects. "

Starmidge turned to Betty. 

"Did you succeed in getting in there, Miss Fosdyke?" he asked. 

"No!" replied Betty. "Mr. Joseph Chestermarke absolutely refused meadmittance, and his uncle told me to go to a solicitor. "

"Good advice, certainly, " remarked Polke drily. "You'd better take it, miss. But what's Mr. Neale doing here?"

"Mr. Neale, " said the Earl, "has just been summarily dismissed for--toput it plainly--taking sides with Miss Fosdyke and myself. "

"Ho, ho!" exclaimed Polke. "Ah! Well, my lord, there's only one thing tobe done, and as your lordship's in town, let us do it at once. "

"What?" asked the Earl. 

"You must come with me before the borough magistrates--they're sittingnow, " said Polke, "and make application for a search-warrant. Yourlordship will have to swear that you have lost your jewels, and thatyou have good cause to believe that they may be on the premises occupiedlately by Mr. Horbury, to whose care you entrusted them. It's a merematter of form--we shall get the warrant at once. Then Starmidge and Iwill go and execute it. Miss Fosdyke--just do what I suggest, if youplease. Mr. Neale will take you to Mr. Pellworthy, the solicitor--he wasyour uncle's solicitor, and a friend of his. Tell him all about yourvisit to the bank this morning. Say that you insist, as next-of-kin, onhaving access to your uncle's belongings. Get Mr. Pellworthy to go withyou to the bank. Meet Detective-Sergeant Starmidge and me outside there, in, say, half an hour. Then--we'll see what happens. Now, my lord, ifyou'll come with me, we'll apply for that search-warrant. "

As the Scarnham clocks were striking twelve that morning, Gabriel andJoseph Chestermarke looked up from their desks to see Shirley's eyes, large with excitement, gazing at them from the threshold of theirprivate parlour. 

"Well?" demanded the senior partner. 

The clerk moved nearer to his principal's desk. 

"Mr. Polke's outside, sir, with the gentleman who came in with himbefore, " announced Shirley. "He says he must see you at once. And--there's Mr. Pellworthy, sir, with Miss Fosdyke. Mr. Pellworthysays, sir, that he must see you at once, too. "

Gabriel glanced at his nephew. And Joseph spoke without looking up fromhis writing-pad, and as if he knew that his partner was regarding him. 

"Bring them all in, " he said. 

He himself criticized his writing as the four callers were ushered in;he did not even look round at them. Gabriel, more sphinx-like than ever, regarded each in order with an air of distinct disapproval. And he tookcare to speak first. 

"Now, Mr. Pellworthy?" he said sharply. "What do you want?"

Pellworthy, an elderly man, looked at Gabriel with as much disapprovalas Gabriel had bestowed on him. 

"Mr. Chestermarke, " he said quietly, "Miss Fosdyke, as next-of-kin toMr. John Horbury--my client--desires to see and examine her uncle'seffects. As you know very well, she is quite within her rights. I mustask you to give her access to Mr. Horbury's belongings. "

"And what do you want, Mr. Polke?" demanded Gabriel. 

Polke produced a formal-looking document and held it before the banker'seyes. 

"Merely to show you that, Mr. Chestermarke, " he answered. "That's asearch-warrant, sir! It empowers me and Mr. Starmidge here tosearch--but I needn't read it to you, Mr. Chestermarke, I think. Isuppose we can go into the house now?"

Faint spots of colour showed themselves on Gabriel's cheeks. And againhe turned to his nephew. Joseph, however, did not speak. Instead, heturned to the wall at his side and pressed a bell. A moment later amaid-servant opened the private door which communicated with the house, and looked inquiringly and a little nervously inside. Joseph frowned ather. 

"I rang twice!" he said. "That meant Mrs. Carswell. Send her here. "

The girl hesitated. 

"If you please, sir, " she said at last, "Mrs. Carswell isn't in, sir, she's out. "

Joseph turned sharply--up to this he had remained staring at the paperson his desk; now he twisted completely round in his chair. 

"Where is she?" he demanded. "Fetch her!"

"If you please, sir, Mrs. Carswell hasn't been in for quite an hour, sir, " said the girl. "She put on her things and went out, sir, just--just after that young lady called this morning. She--she's nevercome back, sir. "

Polke, who was standing close to Starmidge, quietly nudged thedetective's elbow. Both men watched the junior partner. And both saw thefirst signs of something that was very like doubt and anxiety show inhis face. 

"That'll do!" he said to the servant. He rose slowly from his desk, puta hand in his pocket, and drew out some keys. Without a word, heslightly motioned the visitors to follow him. 

Out in the hall stood two men, who in spite of their plain clothes, wereobviously policemen. Joseph started and turned to Polke. 

"Damn you!" he snarled under his breath. "Are you going to pester uswith your whole crew? Send those fellows off at once!"

"Nothing of the sort, Mr. Chestermarke!" replied Polke, in a similarwhisper, "I shall bring as many of my men here as I please. It's yourown fault--you should have been reasonable this morning. Now, sir, you'll open any door in this house that's locked. "

Joseph suddenly paused and handed over the keys he was dangling. 

"Open them yourself!" he said. 

He turned on his heel, and without another word or look went back intothe private parlour. And Polke, opening the door of the dining-room, ushered his party inside, and then stepped back to the two men who werewaiting in the hall. 

"Smithson, " he said to one of them, "you'll stop at the house-doorhere--inside, mind, so as not to attract attention from any customerscoming up this hall to the bank. Jones--come out here with me a minute, "he continued, taking the second man outside. "Look here--I've a quietjob for you. You know the housekeeper here--Mrs. Carswell? She'sdisappeared. May be all right--and it mayn't. Now, you go out and take alook round for her. And go to the cab-stand at the corner of the MootHall, and just find out if she's taken a taxi from them, and if so, where she wanted to be driven to. And then come back and tell me--andwhen you come back, stay inside the house with Smithson. "

The policeman nodded his comprehension of these instructions and wentout, and Polke turned back to the dining-room and closed the door. Helooked at Starmidge. 

"Now I'm in your hands, " he said quietly. "You take charge of this. Whatdo you wish to do?"

"One thing particularly at first, " answered Starmidge. "And we can allwork at it. Never mind these secret passages and dark corners and holesin the panels!--at present: we may have a look at these later on. What Ido want to find out is--if there's any letter amongst Mr. Horbury'spapers making an appointment with him last Saturday evening. To putmatters briefly--I want some light on that man who came to the StationHotel on Saturday, and who presumably came to meet Mr. Horbury. "

"I see, " said Polke. "Good! Then--first?"

"Here's his desk--and its drawers, " suggested Starmidge. "Now, let usall four take a drawer each and see if we can find any such letter. I'mgoing on the presumption that this stranger came down to see Mr. Horbury, and that on his arrival he telephoned up to let him know he'dgot here. If that presumption is correct, then, in all probability, there'd been previous correspondence between them as to the man'svisit. "

"If that man came to see Mr. Horbury, " remarked the solicitor, "whydidn't he come straight here to the bank-house?"

"That's just where the mystery lies, sir, " replied Starmidge. "All themystery of the affair lies in that man's coming at all! Let me find outwho that man was, and what he came for, and if he and Mr. Horbury met, and where they went when they did meet--and I'll soon tell you--whatwould probably make your hair stand on end!" he muttered to himself, ashe pulled a drawer out of the desk and placed it on a centre tablebefore Betty. "Now, Miss Fosdyke, you get to work on that. "

For over an hour the four curiously assorted searchers examined thecontents of the missing man's desk, of another desk in the study, ofcertain letter-racks which hung above the mantelpieces in both rooms, ofdrawers in these rooms, of drawers and small cabinets in his bedroom. Starmidge turned out the pockets of all the clothing he could find:opened suit-cases, trunks, dressing-cases. They found nothing of thenature desired. And just as half-past one came, and Polke was wonderingwhat Starmidge would do next, Jones came back and called him into theinner hall. 

"I've got some news of her, " he whispered. "She's off--from Scarnham, anyway, sir! I couldn't get any word of her in the town, nor at thecab-places: in fact, it's only within this last five minutes that I'vegot it. "

"Well?" demanded Polke eagerly. "And what is it?"

"Young Mitchell, who has a taxi-cab of his own, you know, " said Jones. "He told me--heard I was inquiring. He says that at half-past ten, justas he was coming out of his shed in River Street, Mrs. Carswell came upand asked him to drive her into Ecclesborough. He did--they got there athalf-past eleven: he set her down at the Exchange Station. Then he cameback--alone. So--she's got two hours' good start, sir--if she really isoff!"

CHAPTER XII

THE FIRST FIND

Polke took a step or two on the pavement outside the bank, meditating onthis latest development of a matter that was hourly growing in mystery. Why had this woman suddenly disappeared? Had she merely gone toEcclesborough for the day?--or had she made it her first stage in afurther journey? Why had she taken a taxi-cab for an eighteen-miles'ride, at considerable expense, when, at twelve o'clock, she could havegot a train which would have carried her to Ecclesborough for fifteenpence? It seemed as if she had fled. And if she had fled, she had got, as the constable said, two hours' good start. And in Ecclesborough, too!--a place with a population of half a million, where there werethree big railway stations, from any one of which a fugitive could setoff east, west, north, south, at pleasure, and with no risk ofattracting attention. Two hours!--Polke knew from long experience whatcan be done in two hours by a criminal escaping from justice. 

He turned back to speak to his man--and as he turned, JosephChestermarke came out of the bank. Joseph gave him an insolent stare, and was about to pass him without recognition. But Polke stopped him. 

"Mr. Chestermarke, you heard that the housekeeper here has disappeared?"he asked sharply. "Can you tell anything about it?"

"What have I to do with Horbury's housekeeper?" retorted Joseph. "Doyour own work!"

He passed on, crossing the Market-Place to the Scarnham Arms, and Polke, after gazing at him in silence for a moment, beckoned to his policeman. 

"Come inside, Jones, " he said. He led the way into the house and throughthe hall to the kitchens at the back, where two women servants stoodwhispering together. Polke held up a finger to the one who had answeredJoseph Chestermarke's summons to the parlour that morning. "Here!" hesaid, "a word with you. Now, exactly when did Mrs. Carswell go out? Youneedn't be afraid of speaking, my girl--it'll go no further, and youknow who I am. "

"Not so very long after that young lady was here, Mr. Polke, " answeredthe girl, readily enough. "Within--oh, a quarter of an hour at themost. "

"Did she say where she was going--to either of you?" asked Polke. 

"No, sir--not a word!"

"To neither of us, " said the other--an older--woman, drawing nearer. "She--just went, Mr. Polke. "

"Had any message--telegram, or aught of that sort--come for her?" askedPolke. "Had anybody been to see her?"

"There was no message that I know of, " said the housemaid. "But Mr. Joseph came to speak to her. "

"When?" demanded Polke. 

"Just after the young lady had gone. He called her out of the kitchen, and they stood talking in the passage there a bit, " answered the elderwoman. "Of course, Mr. Polke, we didn't hear naught--but we saw 'em. "

"What happened after that?" asked Polke. 

"Naught!--but that Mr. Joseph went away, and she came back in here for aminute or two and then went upstairs. And next thing she came downdressed up and went out. She said nothing to us, " replied the woman. 

"You saw her go out?" said Polke. 

Both women pointed to the passage which communicated with the hall. 

"When this door's open--as it was, " said one, "you can see rightthrough. Yes--we saw her go through the hall door. Of course we thoughtshe'd just slipped out into the town for something. "

Polke hesitated--and meditated. What use was it, at that juncture, toask for more particular details of this evident flight? Mrs. Carswellwas probably well away from Ecclesborough by that time. He turned backto the hall--and then looked at the women again. 

"I suppose neither of you ever saw or heard aught of Mr. Horbury onSaturday night--after he'd gone out?" he inquired. 

The two women glanced at each other in silence. 

"Did you?" repeated Polke. "Come, now!"

"Well, Mr. Polke, " said the elder woman, "we didn't. But, of course, weknow what's going on--couldn't very well not know, now could we, Mr. Polke? And we can tell you something that may have to do with things. "

"Out with it, then!" commanded Polke. "Keep nothing back. "

"Well, " said the woman, "there was somebody stirring about this house inthe middle of Saturday night--between, say, one and two o'clock in themorning--Sunday morning, of course. Both me and Jane here heard'em--quite plain. And we thought naught of it, then--leastways, what wedid think was that it was Mr. Horbury. He often came in very late. Butwhen we found out next morning that he'd never come home--why, then, wedid think it was queer that we'd heard noises. "

"Did you mention that to Mrs. Carswell?" asked Polke. 

"Of course!--but she said she'd heard nothing, and it must have beenrats, " replied the elder woman. 

"But I've been here three years and I've never seen a rat in the place. "

"Nor me!" agreed the housemaid. "And it wasn't rats. I heard a doorshut--twice. Plain as I'm speaking to you, Mr. Polke. "

Polke reflected a minute and then turned away. 

"All right, my lasses!" he said. "Well, keep all this to yourselves. Here--I'll tell you what you can do. Send Miss Fosdyke a nice cup of teainto the study--send us all one!--we can't leave what we're doing justyet. And a mouthful of bread and butter with it. Come along, Jones, " hecontinued, leading the constable away. "Here, you step round to old Mr. Batterley's--you know where he lives--near the Castle. Mr. Polke'scompliments, and would he be so good as to come to the bank-house andhelp us a bit?--he'll know what I mean. Bring him back with you. "

The constable went away, and Polke, after rubbing one of his mutton-chopwhiskers for awhile with an air of great abstraction, returned to thestudy. There Mr. Pellworthy and Betty Fosdyke were talking earnestly inone of the window recesses; Starmidge, at the furthest end of the room, was examining the old oak panelling. 

"I've sent for Mr. Batterley to give us a hand, " said Polke. "I supposewe'd best examine this room in the way he suggested?"

Starmidge betrayed no enthusiasm. 

"If he can do any good, " he answered. "But I don't attach muchimportance to that. However--if there are any secret places around----"

"There's a nice cup of tea coming in for you and Mr. Pellworthy in aminute, Miss Fosdyke, " said Polke. "We'll all have to put our dinner offa bit, I reckon. " He motioned to the detective to follow him out of theroom. "Here's a nice go!" he whispered. "The housekeeper's off!Bolted--without a doubt! And--she's got a clear start, too. "

Starmidge turned sharply on the superintendent. 

"Got any clue to where she's gone?" he demanded. 

"She's gone amongst five hundred thousand other men and women, " repliedPolke ruefully. "I've found out that much. Drove off in a taxi-cab toEcclesborough, as soon as Miss Fosdyke had been here this morning. And--mark you!--after a few minutes' conversation with JosephChestermarke. Ecclesborough, indeed! Might as well look for a drop ofwater in the ocean as for one woman in Ecclesborough! She was set downat the Exchange Station--why, she may be half-way to London orLiverpool, or Hull, by now!"

Starmidge was listening intently. And passing over the superintendent'sopinions and regrets, he fastened on his facts. 

"After a few minutes' conversation with Joseph Chestermarke, you say?"he observed. "How do you know that?"

"The servants told me, just now, " replied Polke. 

Starmidge glanced at the door of the private parlour. 

"He's gone out, " said Polke. 

Just then the door opened and Gabriel emerged, closing and locking itafter him. He paid no attention to the two men, and was passing ontowards the outer hall when Polke hailed him. 

"Mr. Chestermarke, " he said, "sorry to trouble you--do you know that thehousekeeper, Mrs. Carswell, has disappeared? You heard what that girlsaid this morning? Well, she hasn't come back, and----"

"No concern of mine, Mr. Police-Superintendent!" interrupted Gabriel. "Nothing of this is any concern of mine. I shall be obliged to you ifyou'll confine your very unnecessary operations to the interior of thehouse, and not stand about this outer hall, or keep this door openbetween outer and inner halls--I don't want my customers interferedwith as they come and go. "

With that the senior partner passed on, and Starmidge smiled at hiscompanion. 

"I'm glad he interrupted you, all the same, Mr. Polke, " he said. "I wasafraid you were going to say that you knew this woman had gone, in ahurry, to Ecclesborough. "

"No, I wasn't, " replied Polke. "I told him what I did--because I wantedto know what he'd say. "

"Well--you heard!" said Starmidge. "And what's to be done, now? Thatwoman's conduct is very suspicious. I think, if I were you, Mr. Polke, Ishould get in touch with the Ecclesborough police. Why not? No harmdone. Why not call them up, give them a description of her, and ask themto keep their eyes open. She mayn't have left Ecclesborough--mayn'tintend leaving. For--look here--!" he drew Polke further away from thetwo doors between which they were standing, and lowered his voice to awhisper--"Supposing, " he went on, "supposing there is any secretunderstanding between this Mrs. Carswell and Joseph Chestermarke (and itlooks like it, if she went off immediately after a conversation withhim), she may have gone to Ecclesborough simply so that they could meetthere, safely, later on. Eh?"

"Good notion!" agreed Polke. "Well--we can watch him. "

"I'm beginning to think we must watch him--thought so for the last twohours, " said Starmidge. "But in the meantime, why not put theEcclesborough police on to keeping their eyes open for her? Can yougive them a good description?"

"Know her as well as I know my own wife--by sight, " answered Polke. "Andher style of dressing, too. All right--I'll go and do it, now. Well, there'll be Mr. Batterley coming along in a few minutes--Jones has gonefor him. If he can show you any of their secret places he talkedabout----"

"He's here, " said Starmidge, as the old antiquary and the constableentered the hall. "All right--I'll attend to him. "

But when Polke had gone, and Batterley had been conducted into thestudy, or garden-room as he insisted on calling it, Starmidge left theold man with Mr. Pellworthy and Betty and made an excuse to go out ofthe room after the housemaid, who had just brought in the tea for whichPolke had asked. He caught her at the foot of the staircase, and treatedher to one of his most ingratiating smiles. 

"I say!" he said, "Mr. Polke's just been telling me about what you andthe cook told him about Mrs. Carswell--you know. Now, I say--you needn'tsay anything--except to cook--but I just want to take a look round Mrs. Carswell's room. Which is it?"

The cook, who kept the kitchen door open so as not to lose anything ofthese delightful proceedings, came forward. Both accompanied Starmidgeupstairs to show him the room he wanted. And Starmidge thanked themprofusely and in his best manner--after which he turned them politelyout and locked the door. 

Meanwhile Polke went to the police-station and rang up theEcclesborough police on the telephone. He gave them a full, accurate, and precise description of Mrs. Carswell, and a detailed account of herdoings that morning, and begged them to make inquiry at the three greatstations in their town. The man with whom he held conversation calmlyremarked that as each station at Ecclesborough dealt with a fewthousands of separate individuals every day, it was not very likely thatbooking-clerks or platform officials would remember any particularpersons, and Polke sorrowfully agreed with him. Nevertheless, he beggedhim to do his best--the far-off partner in this interchange of remarksanswered that they would do a lot better if Mr. Polke would tell themsomething rather more definite. Polke gave it up at that, and went offinto the Market-Place again, to return to the bank. But before hereached the bank he ran across Lord Ellersdeane, who, hanging about thetown to hear some result of the search, had been lunching at theScarnham Club, and now came out of its door. 

"Any news so far?" asked the Earl. 

Polke glanced round to see that nobody was within hearing. He and LordEllersdeane stepped within the doorway of the club-house. Polke narratedthe story of the various happenings since the granting of thesearch-warrant, and the Earl's face grew graver and graver. 

"Mr. Polke, " he said at last, "I do not like what I am hearing about allthis. It's a most suspicious thing that the housekeeper should disappearimmediately after Miss Fosdyke's first call this morning, and that sheshould have had some conversation with Mr. Joseph Chestermarke beforeshe went. Really, one dislikes to have to say it of one's neighbours, and of persons of the standing of the Chestermarkes, but their behaviouris--is----"

"Suspicious, my lord, suspicious!" said Polke. "There's no denying it. And yet, they're what you might call so defiant, so brazen-faced andinsolent, that----"

"Here's your London man, " interrupted the Earl. "What is he after now?"

Starmidge came out of the door of the bank-house alone. He caught sightof Polke and Lord Ellersdeane, smiled, and hurried towards them. Hecarried something loosely wrapped in brown paper in his hand; as hestepped into the doorway of the club-house, he took the wrapping off, and showed a small morocco-covered box on which was a coronet in gold. 

"Does your lordship recognize that?" he asked. 

"My wife's jewel-casket, of course!" exclaimed the Earl. "Of course itis! Bless me!--where did you find it?"

"In the chimney, in Mrs. Carswell's bedroom, " answered Starmidge, with agrimace at Polke. "It's empty!"

Chapter XIII

THE PARTNERS UNBEND

The Earl took the empty casket from the detective's hand and looked atit, inside and outside, with doubt and wonder. 

"Now what do you take this to mean?" he asked. 

"That we've got three people to find, instead of two, my lord, " answeredStarmidge promptly. "We must be after the housekeeper. "

"You found this in her room?" asked Polke. "So--you went up there?"

"As soon as you'd left me, " replied the detective, with a shrewd smile. "Of course! I wanted to have a look round. I didn't forget the chimney. She'd put that behind the back of the grate--a favourite hiding-place. Isay she--but, of course, some one else may have put it there. Still--wemust find her. You telephoned to the police at Ecclesborough, superintendent?"

"Ay, and got small comfort!" answered Polke. "It's a stiff job lookingfor one woman amongst half a million people. "

"She wouldn't stop in Ecclesborough, " said Starmidge. "She'll be on herway further afield, now. You can get anywhere from Ecclesborough, ofcourse. "

"Of course!" assented Polke. "She would be in any one of half a dozenbig towns within a couple of hours--in some of 'em within an hour--inLondon itself within three. This'll be another case of printing adescription. I wish we'd thought of keeping an eye on her before!"

"We haven't got to the stage where we can think of everything, " observedStarmidge. "We've got to take things as they come. Well--there's onething can be done now, " he went on, looking at the Earl, "if yourlordship'll be kind enough to do it. "

"I'll do anything that I can, " replied Lord Ellersdeane. "What is it?"

"If your lordship would just make a call on the two Mr. Chestermarkes, "suggested Starmidge. "To tell them, of course, of--that, " he added, pointing to the empty casket. "Your lordship will get some attention--Isuppose. They won't give any attention to Polke or myself. If yourlordship would just tell them that your casket--emptied of its valuablecontents--had been found hidden in Mrs. Carswell's room, perhaps they'lllisten, and--what is much more important--give you their views on thematter. I, " concluded Starmidge, drily, "should very much like to hearthem!"

The Earl made a wry face. 

"Oh, all right!" he answered. "If I must, I must. It's not a job thatappeals to me, but--very well. I'll go now. "

"And we, " said Starmidge, turning to Polke, "had better join the othersand see if the old antiquary gentleman has found any of these secretplaces he talked of. "

Lord Ellersdeane found no difficulty in obtaining access to thepartners: he was shown into their room with all due ceremony as soon asShirley announced him. He found them evidently relaxing a little aftertheir lunch, from which they had just returned. They were standing incharacteristic attitudes; Gabriel, smoking a cigar, bolt upright on thehearth-rug beneath the portrait of his ancestor; Joseph, toying with ascented cigarette, leaning against the window which looked out on thegarden. For once in a way both seemed more amenable and cordial. 

The Earl held out the empty casket. 

"This, " he said, "is the casket in which I handed my wife's jewels toMr. Horbury. It is, as you see, empty. It has just been found by theScotland Yard man, Starmidge. "

Gabriel glanced at the casket with some interest; Joseph, with none:neither spoke. 

"In the housekeeper's room--hidden in her fire-place, " continued theEarl, looking from one partner to the other. "That shows, gentlemen, that the jewels were, after all, in this house--on these premises. "

"There has never been any question of that, " said Gabriel quickly. "We, of course, never doubted what your lordship was good enough to tellus--naturally!"

"Not for a moment!" said Joseph. "We felt at once that you had given thejewels to Horbury. "

The Earl set the casket down on Gabriel's desk and looked a littleuncertain--and uncomfortable. Gabriel indicated the chair which he hadpolitely moved forward on his visitor's entrance. 

"Won't your lordship sit down?" he said. 

The Earl accepted the invitation and looked from one man to the other. Asudden impression crossed his mind--never, he thought, were there twomen from whom it was so difficult to get a word as theseChestermarkes--who had such a queer habit of staring in silence at one!

"The--the housekeeper appears to have run away, " he said haltingly. "That's--somewhat queer, isn't it?"

"We understand Mrs. Carswell has left the house--and the town, " repliedGabriel. "As to it's being queer--well, all this is queer!"

"And--all of a piece!" remarked Joseph. 

The Earl was glad that the junior partner made that remark, and heturned to him. 

"I understand you saw her--and spoke to her--just before she left, thismorning?" he said hesitatingly. "Did she--er--give you the impression ofbeing--shall we say, uneasy?"

"I certainly saw her--and spoke to her, " asserted Joseph. "I went toscold her. I had given her orders that no one was to be allowed accessto certain rooms in the house, and that we were not to be bothered bycallers. She fetched me out to see Miss Fosdyke--I went to scold her forthat. We had our reasons for not permitting access to those rooms. Theyhave, of course, been frustrated. "

"But at any rate some good's come of it, " observed the Earl, pointingto his casket. "This has been found. And--in the housekeeper's bedroom. Hidden! And--she's gone. What do you think of it, gentlemen?"

Gabriel spread his hands and shook his head. But Joseph answeredreadily. 

"I should think, " he replied, "that's she's gone to meet Horbury. "

The Earl started, glancing keenly from one partner to the other. 

"Then--you still think that Horbury is guilty of--of dishonesty!" heexclaimed. "Really, I--dear me, such an absolutely upright, honourableman----"

"Surface!" said Joseph quietly. "Surface! On the surface, my lord. "

The Earl's face flushed a little with palpable displeasure, and heturned from the junior to the senior partner. 

"Very good of your lordship, " said Gabriel, with the faintest suggestionof a smile. "But--a man's honesty is bounded by his necessity. We, ofcourse, are better acquainted with our late manager's qualities--now. "

"You have discovered--something?" asked the Earl anxiously. 

"Up to now, " replied Gabriel, "we have kept things to ourselves. But wedon't mind giving your lordship a little--just a little--information. There is no doubt that Horbury had, for some time past, engaged inspeculation in stocks and shares--none whatever!"

"To a considerable extent, " added Joseph. 

"And--unsuccessfully?" inquired the Earl. 

"We are not yet quite sure of the details, " answered Gabriel. "The merefact is enough. Of course, no man in his position has any right tospeculate. Had we known that he speculated----"

"He would have been discharged from our service, " said Joseph. "Nobanker can retain the services of a manager who--gambles. "

The Earl began to feel almost as uncomfortable as if these two men werecharging him with improper transactions. He was a man of simple mind andideas, and he supposed the Chestermarkes knew what they were talkingabout. 

"Then you think that this sudden disappearance----" he said. 

"In the history of banking--unwritten, possibly, " remarked Joseph, "there are many similar instances. No end of them, most likely. Bankmanagers enjoy vast opportunities of stealing, my lord! And the man whois best trusted has more opportunities than the man who's watched. Wenever suspected--and so we never watched. "

"You have heard of the stranger who came to the town on Saturday night, and is believed to have telephoned from the Station Hotel to Horbury?"asked the Earl. "What of him?"

"We have heard, " answered Gabriel. "We don't know any more. We don'tknow any such person--from the description. But we have no doubt he didmeet Horbury--and that his visit had something--probably everything--todo with Horbury's disappearance. "

"But how could he disappear?" asked the Earl. "I mean to say--how couldsuch a well-known man disappear so completely, without anybody knowingof it? It seems impossible!"

"If your lordship will think for a moment, " said Joseph, "you will seethat it is not merely not impossible, but very easy. Horbury was a greatpedestrian--he used to boast of his thirty and forty mile walks. Now weare well within twenty miles of Ecclesborough. Ecclesborough is a verybig town. What was there to prevent Horbury, during Saturday night, fromwalking across country to Ecclesborough? Nothing! If, after interviewingthat strange man, he decided to clear out at once, he'd nothing to dobut set off--over a very lonely stretch of country, every inch of whichhe knew--to Ecclesborough: he would be in Ecclesborough by an early hourin the morning. Now in Ecclesborough there are three stations--bigstations. He could get away from any one of them--what booking-clerk orrailway official would pay any particular attention to him? The thingis--ridiculously easy!"

"What of the other man?" asked the Earl. "If there were twomen--together--at an early hour--eh?"

"They need not have caught a train at a very early hour, " repliedJoseph. "They need not have been together when they caught any train. Idon't say they went together--I don't say they went to Ecclesborough--Idon't say they caught a train: I only say what, it must be obvious, theyeasily could do without attracting attention. "

"The fact of Horbury's disappearance is--unchallengeable, " remarkedGabriel quietly. "We--know why he disappeared. "

"I should think, " said Joseph, still more quietly, "that LordEllersdeane also knows--by now. "

"No, I don't!" exclaimed the Earl, a little sharply. "I wish I did!"

Joseph pointed to the casket. 

"Why have the police been officially--and officiously--searching thehouse, then?" he asked. 

"To see if they could get any clue to his disappearance, " replied theEarl. 

"And they found--that!" retorted Joseph. 

"In the housekeeper's room, " said the Earl. "She may have appropriatedthe jewels. "

"I think your lordship must see that that is very unlikely--withoutcollusion between Horbury and herself, " remarked Gabriel. 

"Mrs. Carswell, " said Joseph, "has always been more or less of amysterious person. We know nothing about her. I don't even know whereHorbury got her from. But--the probability is that they were incollusion, and that when he went, she stayed behind, to ascertain howthings turned out on his disappearance; and that she fled when it beganto appear that searching inquiries were to be made into which she mightbe drawn. "

The Earl made no reply. He recognized that the Chestermarke observationsand suggestions were rather more than plausible, and much as he foughtagainst the idea of the missing manager's dishonesty, he could not denythat the circumstances as set forth by the bankers were suspicious. 

"Your lordship will, of course, follow up this woman?" said Gabriel, after a brief silence. 

"I suppose the police will, " replied the Earl. "But--aren't you going todo anything yourselves, Mr. Chestermarke? You told me, you know, thatcertain securities of yours were missing. "

Gabriel glanced at his nephew--and Joseph nodded. 

"Oh, well!" answered Gabriel. "We don't mind telling your lordship--andif your lordship pleases, you may tell the police--we are doingsomething. We have, in fact, been doing something from an early hour. Wehave a very clever man at work just now--he has been at work since heheard from us twenty-four hours ago. But--our ideas are not those ofPolke. Polke begins his inquiries here. Our inquiries--based on ourknowledge--begin . . . Elsewhere. "

"You think Horbury will be heard of--elsewhere?" suggested the Earl. 

"Much more likely to be heard of elsewhere than here, my lord!" assertedGabriel. 

"But, of course, what we do need not interfere with anything that yourlordship does, or that Miss Fosdyke does, or that the police do. "

"All that any of us want, I suppose, is to find Horbury, " said the Earl, as he rose. "If he's found, then, I conclude, some explanation willresult. You don't believe in searching about here, then?"

"Let Polke and his men have their way, my lord, " replied Gabriel, with awave of his hand. "My impression of police methods is that those whofollow them can only follow that particular path. We are not lookingfor Horbury--here. He's--elsewhere. "

"So, by this time, are your lordship's jewels, " added Josephsignificantly. "They, one may be sure, are not going to be found in orabout Scarnham. "

The Earl said good-day and went out, troubled and wondering. In the hallhe met the search-party. Mr. Batterley had failed to find anything inthe way of secret stairs or passages or openings beyond those alreadyknown to the occupants, and though he was still confident that theyexisted, the police had wound up their present investigations to turn tomore palpable things. Polke and the detective listened to the Earl'saccount of his interview, and the superintendent sniffed at the mentionof the inquiries instituted by the partners. 

"Ah!" he said incredulously. "Just so! Private inquiry agent, no doubt. All right--let 'em do what they like. But we're going to do what welike, my lord, and what we do will be on very different lines. Firstthing now--we want that woman!"

CHAPTER XIV

THE MIDNIGHT SUMMONS

The search-party separated outside the bank, not too well satisfied withthe result of its labours. The old antiquary walked away obviouslynettled that he was not allowed to pursue his investigations further;Betty Fosdyke and the solicitor went across to the hotel in deepconference; the Earl accompanied Starmidge and Polke to thepolice-station. And there the detective laid down a firm outline of thenext immediate procedure. It was of no use to half-do things, hesaid--they must rouse wholesale attention. Once more the press must bemade use of--the sudden disappearance of Mrs. Carswell must be noisedabroad in the next morning's papers. A police notice describing her mustbe got out and sent all over the kingdom. And--last, but certainly notleast--Lord Ellersdeane must offer a substantial reward for the recoveryof, or news of, his missing property. Let the Chestermarkes adopt theirown method--if they had any--of finding the alleged absconding manager;he, Starmidge, preferred to solve these mysteries by ways of his own. 

It was growing near to dusk when all their necessary arrangements hadbeen made, and Starmidge was free to seek his long-delayed dinner. Hehad put himself up, of his own choice, at a quiet and old-fashioned innnear the police-station, where he had engaged a couple of rooms andfound a landlady to his liking. He repaired to this retreat now, and ateand drank in quiet, and smoked a peaceful pipe afterwards, and was gladof a period of rest. But as he took his ease, he thought and pondered, and by the time that evening had fairly settled over the little town, hewent out into the streets and sought the ancient corner of Scarnhamwhich was called Cornmarket. 

Starmidge wanted to take a look at the house in which JosephChestermarke spent his bachelor existence. Since his own arrival in thetown, he had been learning all he could about the two Chestermarkes, andhe was puzzled about them. For a man who was still young, Starmidge hadseen a good deal of the queer side of life, and had known a good manystrange people, but so far he had never come across two such apparentlycurious characters as the uncle and nephew who ran the old-fashionedbank. Their evident indifference to public opinion puzzled him. He couldnot understand their ice-cold defiance of what he himself called law. Henever remembered being treated as they had treated him. For Starmidge, when on duty, considered himself as much the representative of Justiceas any ermined and coifed judge could be, and he had been accustomed--sofar--to attentive and respectful consideration. But neither Gabriel norJoseph Chestermarke appeared to have any proper appreciation of thedignity of a detective-sergeant of the Criminal InvestigationDepartment, and their eyes had regarded him as if he were somethingvery inferior indeed. Starmidge, though by no means a vain man, feltnettled by such treatment, and he accordingly formed something very likea prejudice against the two partners. That prejudice was quicklyfollowed by suspicion--especially in the case of Joseph Chestermarke. According to Starmidge's ideas, the bankers, if they really believedHorbury to have absconded, if certain securities of theirs really weremissing, if they really thought that Horbury had carried them off, andthe Countess of Ellersdeane's jewels with him, ought to have placedevery information in their power at the disposal of the police: it wassuspicious, and strange, and not at all proper, that they didn't. And itwas suspicious, too, that the housekeeper, Mrs. Carswell, should takeherself off after a brief exchange of words with Joseph. It looked verymuch as if the junior partner had either warned her to go, or had toldher to go. Why had she gone _then_?--when she might have gone before. And why in such haste? Clearly, considering everything, there weregrounds for believing that there was some secret between Mrs. Carswelland Joseph Chestermarke. 

Anyway, rightly or wrongly, Starmidge was suspicious of the juniorpartner in Chestermarke's Bank, and he wanted to know everything that hecould find out about him. He had already learnt that Joseph, like hisuncle, was a confirmed bachelor, and lived in an old house at the cornerof Cornmarket, somewhat--so far as the town-folk could judge--after thefashion of a hermit. Starmidge would have given a good deal for a reallygood excuse to call on Joseph Chestermarke at that house, so that hemight see the inside of it: indeed, if he had only met with a betterreception at the bank, he would have invented such an excuse. But ifGabriel was icily stand-offish, Joseph was openly sneering andcontemptuous, and the detective knew that no excuse would give himadmittance. Still, there was the outside: he would take a look at that. Starmidge was a young man of ideas as well as of ability, and withoutexactly shaping his thought in so many words, he felt--vaguely perhaps, but none the less strongly--that just as you can size up some men by theclothes they wear, so you can get an idea of others by the outer look ofthe houses which shelter them. 

Cornmarket in Scarnham lay at the further end of the street calledFinkleway. It was a queer, open space which sloped downhill from thecentre of the ridge on which the middle of the town was built to thevalley through which the little river meandered. Save where the streets, and the road leading out to the open country and Ellersdeane cut intoit, it was completely enclosed by old houses of the sort which Starmidgehad already admired in the Market-Place: many of them half-timbered, allof them very ancient. One or two of them were inns; some were evidentlyworkmen's cottages; others were better-class dwelling-houses. From thedescription already furnished to him by Polke, Starmidge at oncerecognized Joseph Chestermarke's abode. It was a corner house, abuttingon the road which ran out at the lower angle of this irregular space andled down to the river and Scarnham Bridge. It was by far the biggesthouse thereabouts--a tall, slender, stone-built house of many stories, towering high above any of the surrounding gables. And save for a veryfaint, dull glow which shone through the transom window of the frontdoor, there was not a vestige of light in a single window of the sevenstories. Cornmarket was a gloomy commonplace, thought Starmidge, but thelittle oil lamps in the cottages were riotously cheery in comparisonwith the darkness of the tall, gaunt Chestermarke mansion. It lookedlike the abode of dead men. 

Starmidge longed to knock at that door--if only to get a peep inside thehall. But he curbed his desires and went quietly round the corner of thehouse. There was a high black wall there which led down to the grassybank of the river. From its corner another wall ran along theriver-side, separated from the stream by a path. There was a door set inthis wall, and Starmidge, after carefully looking round in the gloom, quietly tried it and found it securely locked. 

An intense desire to see the inside of Joseph Chestermarke's gardenseized the detective. Near the door, partly overhanging the garden wall, partly overshadowing the path and the river-bank, was a tree: Starmidge, after listening carefully and deciding that no one was coming along thepath, made shift to climb that tree, just then bursting into full leaf. In another minute he was amongst its middle branches, and peeringinquisitively into the garden which lay between him and the gauntoutline of the gloom-stricken house. 

The moon was just then rising above the roofs and gables of the town, and by its rapidly increasing light Starmidge saw that the garden was ofconsiderable size, raining back quite sixty yards from the rear of thehouse, and having a corresponding breadth. Like all the gardens whichstretched from the backs of the Market-Place houses to the river-bank, it was rich in trees--high elms and beeches rose from its lawns, andmade deep shadows across them. But Starmidge was not so much interestedin those trees, fine as they were, as in a building; obviously modern, which was set in their midst, completely isolated. That it was acomparatively new building he could see; the moonbeams falling full onit showed that the stone of which it was built was fresh and unstainedby time or smoke. But what was it? Of what nature, for what purpose? Itwas neither stable, nor coach-house, nor summer-house, nor a grouping ofdomestic offices. No drive or path led to it: it was built in the middleof a grass-plot: round it ran a stone-lined trench. Its architecture wasplain but handsome; it possessed two distinctive features which thedetective was quick to notice. One, was that--at any rate on the twosides which he could see--its windows were set at a height of quitetwelve feet from the ground: the other, that from its flat parapetedroof rose a conical structure something like the rounded stacks of glassfoundries and potteries. This was obviously a chimney, and from itsmouth at that moment was emerging a slight column of smoke which threwback curiously coloured reflections, blue, and yellow, and red, to themoonlight which fell on its thickening spirals. 

Starmidge felt just as much desire to get inside this queer structure asinto the house behind it, and if he could have seen any prospect oftaking a peep through its windows he would have risked detection anddropped from his perch into the garden. But he judged that if thewindows were twelve feet from the ground on the two sides of thebuilding which he could see, they would be the same height on the sideswhich he couldn't see; moreover, he observed that they were obscured byeither dull red glass or red curtains. Clearly no outsider was intendedto get a peep into this temple of mystery. What was it? What went onwithin it? He was about to climb down from the tree when he got somesort of an answer to these questions. From within the building, muffledby the evidently thick walls, came the faintest sound of metal beatingon metal--a mere rippling, tinkling sound, light and musical, such asmight have been made by fairy blacksmiths beating on a fairy anvil. Butfar away as it sounded, it was clear and unmistakable. 

Starmidge regained the path between the wall and the river and wentslowly forward. The place, he decided, was evidently some sort of aworkshop, in which was a forge: probably Joseph Chestermarke amusedhimself with a little amateur work in metals. He thought no more of thematter just then; he wanted to explore the river-bank along which he nowwalked. For according to the story of the landlady of the Station Hotel, it was on that river-bank that the mysterious stranger was to meetwhoever it was that he spoke to over the telephone, and so farStarmidge had not had an opportunity of examining its geography. 

There was not much to examine. The river, a mere ditch, eight or tenyards in breadth, wandered through a level mead at the base of thevalley, separated from the gardens by a wide path. Between ScarnhamBridge, at the foot of Cornmarket and the corner of JosephChestermarke's big garden, and the end of Cordmaker's Alley, a narrowstreet which ran down from the further end of the Market-Place to theriver-side, there were no features of any note or interest. On the otherside of the river lay the deep woods through which Neale and BettyFosdyke had passed on their way to Ellersdeane Hollow: Starmidge hadheard all about that expedition, and he glanced curiously at the blackdepths of the trees, wondering if John Horbury and the mysteriousstranger, supposing they had met, had turned into these woods to holdtheir conference. He presently came to the foot-bridge by which accessto the woods and the other bank of the river was gained, and by it helingered for a moment or two, looking at it in its bearings to thebank-house garden and orchard on his left hand, and to the StationHotel, the lights of which he could plainly see down the valley. Certainly, if John Horbury and the stranger desired to meet in secret, here was the place. The stranger had nothing to do but stroll along theriver-bank from the hotel; Horbury had only to step out of his orchardand meet him. Once together, they had only to cross that foot-bridgeinto the woods to be immediately in surroundings of great privacy. 

Starmidge turned up Cordmaker's Alley, regained the Market-Place, andstrolled on to Polke's private house. The superintendent was taking hisease after his day's labours and reading the Ecclesborough eveningnewspapers: he tossed one of them over to his visitor. 

"All there!" he said, pointing to some big headlines. "Got it all in, just as you told it to Parkinson. Full justice to the descriptions ofboth Horbury and the Station Hotel stranger. Smart work, eh?"

"Power of the Press--as Parkinson said, " answered Starmidge, with alaugh. "It's very useful, the Press: I don't know how they managedwithout it in the old days of criminal catching, Mr. Polke. Press andtelegraph, eh?--they're valuable adjuncts. "

"You think all that would be in the London papers this evening?" askedPolke. 

"Sure to be, " replied Starmidge. "I'm hoping we'll hear something fromLondon tomorrow. I say--I've been taking a bit of a look round one ortwo places tonight, quietly, you know. What's that curious building inJoseph Chestermarke's garden?"

Polke put down his paper and looked unusually interested. 

"I don't know!" he answered. "How did you see it? I've never seen insidehis garden. "

"Climbed a tree on the river-bank and looked over the wall, " repliedStarmidge. 

"Well, " said Polke, "I did hear, some few years ago, that he wasbuilding something in that garden, but the work was done byEcclesborough contractors, and nobody ever knew much about it here. Ibelieve Joseph's a bit of an amateur experimenter--but I don't know whathe experiments in. Nobody ever goes inside his house--he's a hermit. "

"He's got some sort of a forge there, anyhow, " said Starmidge. "Or afurnace, or something of that sort. "

Then they talked of other things until half-past ten, when the detectiveretired to his inn and went to bed. He was sleeping soundly when asteady knocking at his door roused him, to hear the voice of hislandlady outside. And at the same time he heard the big clock of theparish church striking midnight. 

"Mr. Starmidge!" said the voice, "there's a policeman wanting you. Willyou go round at once to Mr. Polke's? There's a man come from Londonabout that piece in the newspapers. "

CHAPTER XV

MR. FREDERICK HOLLIS

Starmidge hastily pulled some garments about him, and flinging atravelling-coat over his shoulders, hurried downstairs, to find asleepy-looking policeman in the hall. 

"How did this man get here--at this time of night?" he asked, as theyset off towards the police-station. 

"Came in a taxi-cab from Ecclesborough, " answered the policeman. "Ihaven't heard any particulars, Mr. Starmidge, except that he'd read thenews in the London paper this evening and set off here in consequence. He's in Mr. Polke's house, sir. "

Starmidge walked into the superintendent's parlour, to find him incompany with a young man, whom the detective at once sized up as atypical London clerk--a second glance assured him that his clerkship wasof the legal variety. 

"Here's Detective-Sergeant Starmidge, " said Polke. "Starmidge, thisgentleman's Mr. Simmons, from London. Mr. Simmons says he's clerk to aMr. Hollis, a London solicitor. And, having read that description in thepapers this last evening, he's certain that the man who came to theStation Hotel here on Saturday is his governor. "

Starmidge sat down and looked again at the visitor--a tall, sandy-haired, freckled young man, who was obviously a good deal puzzled. 

"Is Mr. Hollis missing, then?" asked Starmidge. 

Simmons looked as if he found it somewhat difficult to explain matters. 

"Well, " he answered. "It's this way. I've never seen him since Saturday. And he hasn't been at his rooms--his private rooms--since Saturday. Inthe ordinary course he ought to have been at business first thingyesterday--we'd some very important business on yesterday morning, whichwasn't done because of his absence. He never turned up yesterday atall--nor today either--we never heard from or of him. And so, when Iread that description in the papers this evening, I caught the firstexpress I could get down here--at least to Ecclesborough--I had to motorfrom there. "

"That description describes Mr. Hollis, then?" asked Starmidge. 

"Exactly! I'm sure it's Mr. Hollis--it's him to a T!" answered theclerk. "I recognized it at once. "

"Let's get everything in order, " said Starmidge, with a glance at Polke. "To begin with, who is Mr. Hollis?"

"Mr. Frederick Hollis, solicitor, 59B South Square, Gray's Inn, " repliedSimmons promptly. "Andwell & Hollis is the name of the firm--but thereisn't any Andwell--hasn't been for many a year--he's dead, long since, is Andwell. Mr. Hollis is the only proprietor. "

"Don't know him at all, " remarked Starmidge. "What's his particular lineof practice?"

"Conveyancing, " said Simmons. 

"Then, naturally, I shouldn't, " observed Starmidge. "My acquaintance ischiefly with police-court solicitors. And you say he'd private roomssome where? Where, now?"

"Paper Buildings, Temple, " replied the clerk. "He'd a suite of roomsthere--he's had 'em for years. "

"Bachelor, then?" inquired the detective. 

"Yes--he's a bachelor, " agreed Simmons. 

"You know he hasn't been at his rooms since Saturday--you've ascertainedthat?" continued Starmidge. 

"He's never been at his rooms since he left them after breakfast onSaturday morning, " replied Simmons. "I went there at eleven o'clockMonday--that was yesterday--again at four: twice on Tuesday. I wascoming away from the Temple when I got the paper and read about thisaffair. "

"When did you see him last?" asked Starmidge. 

"Half-past-twelve Saturday. He went out--dressed just as it says in yourdescription. And, " concluded the clerk, with a shake of his head whichsuggested his own inability to understand matters, "he never said a wordto me about coming down here. "

"Did he say anything to anybody at his rooms about going away?--for theweek-end, for instance?" asked the detective. "There'd be somebodythere, of course. "

"Only a woman who tidied up for him and got his breakfast ready of amorning, " said Simmons. "He took all his other meals out. No--he saidnothing to her. But he wasn't a week-ender: he very rarely left hisrooms except for the office. "

"Any of his relations been after him?" inquired Starmidge. 

"I don't know anything about his relations--nor friends, either, "answered the clerk. "Don't even know the address of one of them, or I'dhave gone to seek him on Monday--everything's at a standstill. He was alonely sort of man--I never heard of his relations or friends. "

"How long have you been with him, then?" asked the detective. "Sometime?"

"Six years, " replied Simmons. 

"And you've no doubt, from the description in the papers, that thegentleman who came here on Saturday last is Mr. Hollis?" askedStarmidge. 

The clerk shook his head with an air of conviction. 

"None!" he answered. "None whatever!"

Starmidge helped himself to a cigar out of an open box which lay onPolke's table. He lighted it carefully, and smoked for a minute or twoin silence. Then he looked at Polke. 

"Well, there's a very obvious question to put to Mr. Simmons after allthat, " he remarked. "Have you any idea, " he continued, turning to theclerk, "of any reason that would bring Mr. Hollis to Scarnham?"

Simmons shook his head more vigorously than before. 

"Not the ghost of an idea!" he exclaimed. 

"There was no business being done with anybody at Scarnham?" askedStarmidge. 

"Not in our office!" asserted Simmons. "I'm sure of that. I know all thebusiness that we have in hand. To tell you the truth, gentlemen, thoughyou may think me very ignorant, I never even heard of Scarnham myselfuntil I read the paper this evening. "

"Quite excusable, " said Starmidge. "I never heard of it myself untilMonday. Well--this is all very queer, Mr. Simmons. What does Mr. Polkethink? And what's Mr. Polke got to suggest!"

Polke, who had been listening silently, turned to the clerk. 

"Did you chance to look at Mr. Hollis's letters--recent letters, Imean--" he asked, "to see if you would find anything inviting him downhere?"

"I did, " replied Simmons promptly. "I looked through all the letters onhis desk and in his drawers yesterday afternoon. I didn't find anythingthat explained his absence. And when I was at his rooms this evening Ilooked at some letters on his mantelpiece--nothing there. I tell you, Ihaven't the least notion as to what could bring him to Scarnham. "

"And I suppose none of your fellow-clerks have, either?" asked Polke. 

Simmons smiled and glanced at Starmidge. 

"We've only myself and another--a junior clerk--and a boy, " he said. "It's not a big practice--only a bit of good conveyancing now and then, and some family business. Mr. Hollis isn't dependent on it--he's privatemeans of his own. "

"Aye, just so!" observed Polke. "And I should say, Starmidge, that itwas private business brought him down here--if he's the man, as hecertainly seems to be. But--whose?"

Starmidge turned again to the clerk. 

"You've a good memory, I can see, " he said. "Now, did you ever hear Mr. Hollis mention the name of Horbury?"

"Never!" replied Simmons. 

"Did you ever hear him speak of Chestermarke's Bank?" asked Starmidge. 

"No--never! Never heard either name in my life until I saw them in thepapers, " asserted Simmons. 

"Who looks after the banking account at Hollis's?" asked the detective. "I mean, the business account--you know. Not his private one. "

"I do, " said Simmons. "Always have done since I went there. "

"You never saw any cheques paid to those names--or any cheques fromthem?" inquired Starmidge. "Think, now!"

"No--I'm absolutely sure of it, " said the clerk. "Horbury, perhaps, Imight not remember, but I should have remembered Chestermarke--it's anuncommon name, that--to me, anyway. "

"Well, " said Starmidge, after a pause, during which all three looked ateach other as men look who have come to a dead stop in the progress ofthings, "there's one thing very certain, Mr. Simmons. If that was yourgovernor who came down to the Station Hotel here on Saturday eveninglast, he certainly telephoned from there to Chestermarke's Bank as soonas he arrived. And he got a reply from there, and he evidently went outto meet whoever sent it--that sender seeming to be Mr. Horbury, themanager. And so, " he concluded, turning to Polke, "what we've got tofind out is--what did Hollis come here at all for?"

"We shan't find that out tonight, " said Polke, with a yawn. 

"Quite so-so we'll adjourn till morning, when Mr. Simmons shall see Mrs. Pratt--just to establish things, " remarked Starmidge. "In the meantimehe'd better come round with me to my place, and I'll get him a bed. "

Neither the police-superintendent nor the detective had the slightestdoubt after hearing Simmons' story that the man who presented himself atthe Station Hotel at Scarnham on the evening of John Horbury'sdisappearance was Mr. Frederick Hollis, solicitor, of Gray's Inn. Ifthey had still retained any doubt it would have disappeared next morningwhen they took the clerk down to see Mrs. Pratt. The landlady describedher customer even more fully than before: Simmons had no doubt whateverthat she described his employer: he wouldn't have been more certain, hesaid, that Mrs. Pratt was talking about Mr. Hollis, if she'd shown him aphotograph of that gentleman. 

"So we can take that for settled, " remarked Polke, as the three left thehotel and went back to the town. "The man who came here last Saturdaynight was Mr. Frederick Hollis, solicitor, of South Square, Gray's Inn, London. That's established, I take it, Starmidge?"

"Seems so, " agreed the detective. 

"Then the next question is--Where's he got to?" said Polke. 

"I think the next question is--Has anybody ever heard of him inconnection with Mr. Horbury, or the Chestermarkes?" observed Starmidge. "There's no doubt he came down here to see one or other ofthem--Horbury, most likely. "

"And who's to tell us anything?" asked Polke. 

"Miss Fosdyke's a relation of Horbury's, " replied Starmidge. "She mayknow Hollis by name. Mr. Neale's always been in touch with Horbury--hemay have heard of Hollis. And--so may the bankers. "

"The difficulty is to make them say anything, " said Polke. "They'll onlytell what they please. "

"Let's try the other two, anyway, " counselled Starmidge. "They may beable to tell something. For as sure as I am what I am, the whole secretof this business lies in Hollis's coming down here to see Horbury, andin what followed on their meeting. If we could only get to know whatHollis came here for--ah!"

But they got no further information from either Betty Fosdyke orWallington Neale. Neither had ever heard of Mr. Frederick Hollis, ofGray's Inn. Betty was certain, beyond doubt, that he was no relation ofthe missing bank-manager: she had the whole family-tree of the Horburysat her finger-ends, she declared: no Hollis was connected with even itsoutlying twigs. Neale had never heard the name of Hollis mentioned byHorbury. And he added that he was absolutely sure that during the lastfive years no person of that name had ever had dealings withChestermarke's Bank--open dealings, at any rate. Secret dealings withthe partners, severally or collectively, or with Horbury, for thatmatter, Mr. Hollis might have had, but Neale was certain he had had noordinary business with any of them. 

Polke took heart of grace and led Simmons across to the bank. To hisastonishment, the partners now received him readily and politely; theyeven listened with apparent interest to the clerk's story, and asked himsome questions arising out of it. But each declared that he knew nothingabout Mr. Frederick Hollis, and was utterly unaware of any reason thatcould bring him to Scarnham: it was certainly on no business of theirs, as a firm, or as private individuals, that he came. 

"He came, of course, to see Horbury, " said Joseph at last. "That's deadcertain. No doubt they met. And after that--well, they seem to havevanished together. "

Gabriel followed Polke into the hall and drew him aside. 

"Did this clerk tell you whether his master was a man of standing?" heasked. 

"Man of private means, Mr. Chestermarke, with a small, highlyrespectable practice--a conveyancing solicitor, " answered Polke. 

"Oh!" replied Gabriel. "Just so. Well--we know nothing about him. "

Polke and his companion returned to the Scarnham Arms, where Starmidgewas in consultation with Betty and Neale. 

"They know nothing at all over there, " he reported. "Never heard ofHollis. What's to be done now!"

"Mr. Simmons must do the next thing, " answered the detective. "Get backto town, Mr. Simmons, and put yourself in communication with everysingle one of Mr. Hollis's clients--you know them all, of course. Findout if any of them gave Mr. Hollis any business that would send him toScarnham. Don't leave a stone unturned in that way! And the moment youhave any information, however slight, wire to me, here--on theinstant. "

CHAPTER XVI

THE LEAD MINE

Starmidge and Polke presently left--to walk down to the railway stationwith the bewildered clerk; when they had gone, Betty turned to Neale, who was hanging about her sitting-room with no obvious intention ofleaving it. 

"While these people are doing what they can in their way, is therenothing we can do in ours?" she asked. "I hate sitting here doingnothing at all! You're a free man now, Wallie--can't you suggestsomething?"

Neale was thoroughly enjoying his first taste of liberty. He felt as ifhe had just been released from a long term of imprisonment. To beabsolutely free to do what he liked with himself, during the whole of aspring day, was a sensation so novel that he was holding closely to it, half-fearful that it might all be a dream from which it would be aterrible thing to awake--to see one of Chestermarke's ledgers under hisnose. And this being a wonderfully fine morning, he had formed certainsly designs of luring Betty away into the country, and having the wholeday with her. A furtive glance at her, however, showed him that MissFosdyke's thoughts and ideas just then were entirely business-like, buta happy inspiration suggested to him that business and pleasure might becombined. 

"We ought to go and see if that tinker chap's found out or heardanything, " he said. "You remember he promised to keep his eyes and earsopen. And we might do a little looking round the country for ourselves:I haven't much faith in those local policemen and gamekeepers. Why notmake a day of it, going round? I know a place--nice old inn, the otherside of Ellersdeane--where we can get some lunch. Much better makinginquiries for ourselves, " he concluded insinuatingly, "than sittingabout waiting for news. "

"Didn't I say so?" exclaimed Betty. "Come on, then!--I'm ready. Wherefirst?"

"Let's see the tinker first, " said Neale. "He's a sharp man--he may havesomething else to tell by now. "

He led his companion out of the town by way of Scarnham Bridge, pointingout Joseph Chestermarke's gloomy house to her as they passed it. 

"I'd give a lot, " he remarked, as they turned on to the open moor whichled towards Ellersdeane Hollow, "to know if either of the Chestermarkesreally did know anything about that chap Hollis coming to the town onSaturday. I shouldn't be a bit surprised if they did. Those detectivefellows like Starmidge are very clever in their way, but they alwaysseem to me to stop thinking a bit too soon. Now both Starmidge and Polkeseem to take it for certain that this Hollis went to meet Horbury whenhe left the Station Hotel. There's no proof that he went to meetHorbury--none!"

"Whom might he have gone to meet, then?" demanded Betty. 

"You listen to me a bit, " said Neale. "I've been thinking it over. Hollis comes to the Station Hotel and uses their telephone. Mrs. Prattoverhears him call up Chestermarke's Bank--that's certain. Then she goesaway, about her business. An interval elapses. Then she hears someappointment made, with somebody, along the river bank, for that evening. But--that interval during which Mrs. Pratt didn't overhear? How do weknow that the person with whom Hollis began his conversation was thesame person with whom he finished it? Come, now!"

"Wallie, that's awfully clever of you!" exclaimed Betty. "How did youcome to think of such an ingenious notion?"

"Worked it out, " answered Neale. "This way! Hollis comes down toScarnham to see Chestermarke's Bank--which means one of the partners. Herings up the bank. He speaks to somebody there. How do we know thatsomebody was Horbury? We don't! It may have been Mrs. Carswell. Nowsupposing the real person Hollis wanted to see was either Gabriel orJoseph Chestermarke? Very well--this person who answered from the bankwould put Hollis on to either of them at once. Gabriel has a telephoneat the Warren: Joseph has a telephone at his home yonder behind us. Itmay have been with either Gabriel or Joseph that Hollis finished hisconversation. And--if it was finished with one of them, it was, in myopinion, whatever that's worth, with Master Joseph!"

"What makes you think that?" asked Betty, startled by the suggestion. 

Neale laid a hand on the girl's arm and turned her round to face thetown. He lifted his stick and pointed at Joseph Chestermarke's highroof, towering above the houses around it; then he swept the sticktowards the river and its course, plainly to be followed, in thedirection of the station. 

"You see Joseph's house there, " he said. "You see the river--the pathalong its bank--going right down to the meadow opposite the StationHotel? Very well--now, supposing it was Joseph with whom Hollis wound upthat telephone talk, suppose it was Joseph whom Hollis was to see. Whatwould happen? Joseph knew that Hollis was at the Station Hotel. Thestraightest and easiest way from the Station Hotel to Joseph's houseis--straight along the river bank. Now then, call on your memory! Whatdid Mrs. Pratt tell us? 'When I was going back to the bar, ' says Mrs. Pratt, 'I heard more. "Along the river-side, " says the gentleman. "Straight on from where I am--all right. " Then, after a minute, "Atseven-thirty, then?" he says. "All right--I'll meet you. " And afterthat, ' concludes Mrs. Pratt, 'he rings off. ' Now, why shouldn't it beJoseph Chestermarke that he was going to meet?--remember, again, theriver-side path leads straight to Joseph's house. Come!--Mrs. Pratt'sstory doesn't point conclusively to Horbury at all. It's as I say--thetelephone conversation may have begun with Horbury, but it may haveended with--somebody else. And what I say is--who was the preciseperson whom Hollis went to meet?"

"Are you going to tell all that to Starmidge?" asked Betty admiringly. "Because I'm sure it's never entered his head--so far. "

"Depends, " replied Neale. "Let's see if the tinker has anything to tell. He's at home, anyway. There's his fire. "

A spiral of blue smoke, curling high above the green and gold of thegorse bushes, revealed Creasy's whereabouts. He had shifted his campsince their first meeting with him: his tilted cart, his tethered pony, and his fire, were now in a hollow considerably nearer the town. Nealeand Betty looked down into his retreat to find him busily mending acollection of pots and pans, evidently gathered up during his round ofthe previous day. He greeted his visitors with a smile, and fetched athree-legged stool from his cart for Betty's better accommodation. 

"Heard anything?" asked Neale, seating himself on a log of wood. 

The tinker pointed to several newspapers which lay near at hand, keptfrom blowing away by a stone placed on the uppermost. 

"Only what's in these, " he answered. "I've read all that--so I'm prettywell posted up, mister. I've just read this morning's--bought it in thetown when I went to fetch some bread. Queer affair altogether, I callit!"

"Have you looked round about at all?" asked Betty. 

"I've been a good bit over the Hollow, miss, " answered Creasy. "Butit's a stiff job seeking anything here. There's nobody knows what awilderness this Hollow is until they begin exploring it. Holes--corners--nooks--crannies--bracken and bushes--it is a wilderness, and that's a fact! I'd engage to hide myself safely in this square milefor many a week, against a hundred seekers. It wouldn't a bit surpriseme, you know, if it comes out in the end that Mr. Horbury, after all, did fall down one of these old shafts. I couldn't believe it possible atfirst, knowing that he knew every in and out of the place, but I'mbeginning to think he may have done. There's only one thing against thattheory. "

"What?" asked Betty. 

"Where's the other gentleman?" answered the tinker. "If they cametogether on to this waste, one couldn't fall down a shaft without theother knowing it, eh? And it's scarcely likely they'd both fall down. "

Neale glanced at Betty and shook his head. 

"There you are, you see!" he muttered. "They all hang to the notion thatHollis did meet Horbury! Mr. Horbury may have been alone, after all, youknow, " he went on, turning to Creasy. "There's no proof that the othergentleman was with him. "

"Aye, well--I'm going on what these paper accounts say, " answeredCreasy. "They all take it for granted that those two were together. Well, about these old shaftings, mister--I did notice something veryearly this morning that I thought might be looked into. "

"What is it?" asked Neale. "Don't let's lose any chance of findinganything out, however small it may be. "

The tinker finished mending a kettle and set it aside amongst otherrenovated articles. He lifted the pan of solder off the fire, set itaside, too, and got up. 

"Come this way, then, " he said. "I was going in to Scarnham this noon totell Mr Polke about it, but as long as you're here----"

He led the way through the thick gorse and heather until he came to anarrow track which wound across the moor in the direction of the town. There he paused, pointing towards Ellersdeane on the one hand, towardsScarnham on the other. 

"You see this track, mister?" he said. "You'll notice that it goes toEllersdeane village that way, and to Scarnham this. Of course, you can'tsee it all the way in either direction, but you can take my word forit--it does. It comes out at Ellersdeane by the duck-pond, at Scarnhamby the bridge at the foot of Cornmarket. People who know it would followit if they wanted a short cut across the moor from the town to thevillage--or the opposite, as you might say. Now then, look here--a bitthis way. "

He preceded them along the narrow track until, on an open space in themoorland, they came to one of the old lead-mine shafts, the mouth ofwhich had been fenced in by a roughly built wall of stone gathered fromits immediate surroundings. In this wall, extending from its parapet tothe ground, was a wide gap: the stones which had been displaced to makeit had disappeared into the cavernous opening. 

"Now then!" said the tinker, turning on his companions with theinquiring look of a man who advances a theory which may or may not beaccepted as reasonable, "you see that? What I'd like to know is--is thata recently made gap? It's difficult to tell. If this bit of a stonefence had been built with mortar, one could have told. But it's neverhad mortar or lime in it!--it's just rough masonry, as you see--stonespicked up off the moor, like all these fences round the old shafts. But--there's the gap right enough! Do you know what I'm thinking?"

"No!" murmured Betty, with a glance of fear and doubt at the black vistawhich she saw through the gap. "But--don't be afraid to speak. "

"I'm thinking this, " continued the tinker: "Supposing a man wasfollowing this track from Ellersdeane to Scarnham, or t'other way about, as it might be--supposing he was curious to look down one of these oldshafts--supposing he looked down this one, which stands, as you see, nottwo yards off the very track he was following--supposing he leaned hisweight on this rotten bit of fencing--supposing it gave way? What?"

Neale, who had been listening intently, made a movement as if to lay hishand on the grey stones. Betty seized him impulsively. 

"Don't, Wallie!" she exclaimed. "That frightens me!"

Creasy lifted his foot and pressed it against the stones at one edge ofthe gap. Before even that slight pressure three or four blocks gave wayand dropped inward--the sound of their fall came dully from the depthsbeneath. 

"You see, " said the tinker, "it's possible. It might be. And--as you cantell from the time it takes a stone to drop--it's a long way down there. They're very deep, these old mines. "

Neale turned from the broken wall and looked narrowly at the groundabout it. 

"I don't see any signs of anybody being about here recently, " heremarked. "There are no footmarks. "

"There couldn't be, mister, " said Creasy. "You could march a regiment ofsoldiers over this moorland grass for many an hour, and there'd be nofootprints on it when they'd gone--it's that wiry and strong. No!--ifhalf a dozen men had been standing about here when one fell in--or iftwo or three men had come here to throw another man in, " he addedsignificantly, "there'd be no footmarks. Try it--you can't grind aniron-shod heel like mine into this turf. "

"It's all very horrible!" said Betty, still staring at the black gapwith its suggestions of subterranean horror. "If one only knew----"

The tinker turned and looked at the two young people as if he wereestimating their strength. 

"What are you wondering about?" asked Neale. 

Creasy smiled as he glanced again at Betty. 

"Well, " he replied, "you're a pretty strong young fellow, mister, I takeit, and the young lady looks as if she'd got a bit of good muscle abouther. If you two could manage one end of a rope, I'd go down into thatshaft at the other end--a bit of the way, at any rate. And then--I'd letdown a lantern and see if there's aught to be seen. "

Betty turned anxiously to Neale, and Neale looked the tinker over withappraising eyes. 

"I could pull you up myself, " he answered. "You're no great weight. Andhaven't those shafts got props and stays down the side?"

"Aye, but they'll be thoroughly rotten by this, " said Creasy. "Well, we'll try it. Come to my cart--I've plenty of stuff there. "

"You're sure there's no danger?" asked Betty. "Don't imperil yourself!"

"No danger, so long as you two'll stick to this end of the rope, " saidCreasy. "I shan't go too far down. "

The tilted cart proved to contain all sorts of useful things: theypresently returned to the shaft with two coils of stout rope, a crowbar, a lantern attached to a length of strong cord, and a greatsledge-hammer, with which the tinker drove the crowbar firmly into theground some ten or twelve feet from the edge of the gap. He made one endof the first rope fast to this; the other end he securely knotted abouthis waist; one end of the second rope he looped under his armpits, andhanded the other to Neale; then, lighting his lantern, he prepared todescend, having first explained the management of the ropes to hisassistants. 

"All you've got to do, " he said reassuringly to Betty, "is to hold on tothis second rope and let me down, gradual-like. When I say 'Pull, ' drawup--I'll help, hand over hand, up this first rope. Simple enough!--and Ishan't go too far. "

Nevertheless, he exhausted the full length of both ropes, and it seemeda long time before they heard anything of him. Betty, frightened of whatshe might hear, fearful lest Neale should go too near the edge of theshaft, began to get nervous at the delay, and it was with a great senseof relief that she at last heard the signal. 

The tinker came hand over hand up the stationary rope, helped by thesecond one: his face, appearing over the edge of the gap, was grave andat first inscrutable. He shook himself when he stepped above ground, asif he wanted to shake off an impression: then he turned and spoke in awhisper. 

"It's as I thought it might be!" he said. "There's a dead man downthere!"

CHAPTER XVII

ACCIDENT OR MURDER?

Betty checked the cry of horror which instinctively started to her lips, and turned to Neale with a look which he was quick to interpret. Hemoved nearer to the tinker, who was unwinding the rope from his waist. 

"You couldn't tell--what man?" he asked, in low tones. 

Creasy shook his head with a look of dislike for what he had seen by thelight of his lantern. 

"No!" he answered. "'Twasn't possible, mister. But--a man there is! Anddead, naturally. And--a long way it is, too, down to the bottom of thatplace!"

"What's to be done?" asked Neale. 

The tinker slowly coiled up his ropes, and laid them in order by thecrowbar. 

"There's only one thing to be done, " he answered, after a reflectivepause. "We shall have to get him up. That'll be a job! Do you and theyoung lady go back to Scarnham, and tell Polke what we've found, and lethim come out here with a man or two. I'll go into Ellersdeane yonder andget some help--and a windlass--can't do without that. There's a manthat sinks wells in Ellersdeane--I'll get him and his men to come backwith me. Then we can set to work. "

Creasy moved away as he finished speaking, untethered his pony, threw anold saddle across its back, and without further remark rode off in thedirection of the village, while Neale and Betty turned back to Scarnham. For a while neither broke the silence which had followed the tinker'spractical suggestions; when Betty at last spoke it was in a hushedvoice. 

"Wallie!" she said, "do you think that can possibly be--Uncle John?"

"No!" answered Neale sharply, "I don't! I don't believe it possible thathe would be so foolish as to lean over a rotten bit of walling likethat--he'd know the danger of it. "

"Then it must be--the other man--Hollis!" said Betty. 

"Maybe, " agreed Neale. "If it is----"

He paused, and Betty looked at his set face as if she were wonderingwhat he was thinking of. 

"What?" she asked timidly. "You're uneasy about something. "

"It's a marvel to me--if it is Hollis--however he comes to be there, "answered Neale at last. "According to all we know, he certainly went tomeet somebody on Saturday night. I can't think how anybody who knew thedistrict would have let a stranger do such a risky thing as to lean overone of those shafts. Besides, if anybody was with him, and there was anaccident, why hasn't the accident been reported? Betty!--it's more likemurder!"

"You think he may have been thrown down there?" she asked fearfully. 

"Thrown down or forced down--it's all the same, " said Neale. "There mayhave been a struggle--a fight. But there, what's the use of speculating?We don't even know whose body it is yet. Let's get on and tell thosepolice chaps. "

Turning off the open moor on to the highway at the corner of ScarnhamBridge, they suddenly came face to face with Gabriel Chestermarke, who, for once in a way, was walking instead of driving into the town. The twoyoung people, emerging from the shelter of a high hedgerow whichbordered the moorland at that point, started at sight of the banker'scolourless face, cold and set as usual. But Gabriel betrayed nosurprise, and was in no way taken aback. He lifted his hat in silence, and was marching on when Neale impulsively hailed him. 

"Mr. Chestermarke!" he exclaimed. 

Gabriel halted and turned, looking at his late clerk with absoluteimpassiveness. He made no remark, and stood like a statue, waiting forNeale to speak. 

"You may like to know, " said Neale, coming up to him, "we have justfound the body of a man on the moor--Ellersdeane Hollow. "

Gabriel showed no surprise. No light came into his eyes, no colour tohis cheek. It seemed a long time before his firmly set lips relaxed. 

"A man?" he said quietly. "What man?"

"We don't know, " answered Neale. "All we know is, there's a man's bodylying at the bottom of one of the old shafts up there--near EllersdeaneTower. The tinker who camps out there has just seen it--he's been partlydown the shaft. "

"And--did not recognize it?" asked Gabriel. 

"No--it was too far beneath him, " replied Neale. "He's gone into thevillage to get help. "

Gabriel lingered a moment, and then, lifting his hat again, began tomove forward towards the town. 

"I should advise you to acquaint the police, Mr. Neale, " he said. "Good-morning!"

He marched away, stiffly upright, across the bridge and up theCornmarket, and Neale and Betty followed. 

"Why did you tell--him?" asked Betty. 

Neale threw a glance of something very like scorn after the retreatingfigure. 

"Wanted to see how he'd take it!" he answered. "Bah!--GabrielChestermarke's no better than a wax figure! You might as well tell amarble image any news of this sort as tell him! You'd have thought he'dhave had sufficient human feeling in him to say that he hoped it wasn'tyour uncle, anyhow!"

"No, I shouldn't, " said Betty. "I sized Gabriel up--and Joseph, too--when I walked into their parlour the other afternoon. They haven'tany feelings--you might as well expect to get feeling out of a fish. "

They met Starmidge in the Market-Place--talking to Parkinson. Neale toldthe news to both. The journalist dashed into his office for his hat, andmade off to Ellersdeane Hollow: Starmidge turned to the police-stationwith his information. 

"No one else knows, I suppose?" he remarked, as they went along. 

"Gabriel Chestermarke knows, " answered Neale. "We met him as we werecoming off the moor and I told him. "

"Show any surprise?" asked the detective. 

"Neither surprise nor anything else, " said Neale. "Absolutelyunaffected!"

Polke, hearing the news, immediately bustled into activity, sending fora cab in which to drive along the road to a point near EllersdeaneTower, from which they could reach the lead mine. But he shook his headwhen he saw that Betty meant to return. 

"Don't, miss!" he urged. "Stay here in town--you'd far better. It's nota nice job for ladies, aught of that sort. Wait at the hotel--do, now!"

"Doing nothing!" exclaimed Betty. "That would be far worse. Let mego--I'm not afraid of anything. And to hang about, waiting andwondering--"

Neale, who had been about to enter the cab with the police, drew back. 

"You go on, " he said to Polke. "Get things through--Miss Fosdyke and Iwill walk slowly back there. We won't come close up till you can tell ussomething definite. Don't you see she's anxious about her uncle?--wecan't keep her waiting. "

He rejoined Betty as Polke and his men drove off: together they turnedagain in the direction of the bridge. Once across it and on the moor, Neale made the girl sit down on a ledge of rock at some distance fromthe lead mine, but within sight of it: he himself, while he talked toher, stood watching the figures grouped about the shaft. Creasy hadevidently succeeded in getting help at once: Neale saw men fixing awindlass over the mouth of the old mine; saw a man at last disappearinto its depths. And after a long pause he saw from the movements of theother men that the body had been drawn to the surface and that they werebending over it. A moment later, Starmidge separated himself from therest, and came in Neale's direction. He nodded his head energetically atBetty as he drew within speaking distance. 

"All right, Miss Fosdyke!" he said. "It's not your uncle. But--it's theother man, Mr. Neale!--no doubt of it!"

"Hollis!" exclaimed Neale. 

"It's the man described by Mrs. Pratt and Simmons--that's certain, "answered the detective. "So there's one mystery settled--though it makesall the rest stranger than ever. Now, Miss Fosdyke, that'll be somerelief to you--so don't come any nearer. But just spare Mr. Neale a fewminutes--I want to speak to him. "

Betty obediently turned back to the ledge of rock, and Neale walked withStarmidge towards the group around the shaft. 

"Can you tell anything?" he asked. "Are there any signs of violence?--Imean, does it look as if he'd been----"

"Thrown in there?" said the detective calmly. "Ah!--it's a bit early todecide that. The only thing I'm thinking of now is the fact that this isHollis! That's certain, Mr. Neale. Now what could he be doing on thislonely bit of ground? Where does this track lead?"

"It's a short cut from Scarnham Bridge corner to the middle ofEllersdeane village, " answered Neale, pointing one way and then theother. 

"And Gabriel Chestermarke lives in Ellersdeane, doesn't he?" askedStarmidge. "Or close by?"

Neale indicated certain chimneys rising amongst the trees on the farside of the Hollow. "He lives there--The Warren, " he replied. 

"Um!" mused Starmidge. "I wonder if this poor fellow was making his waythere--to see him?"

"How should he--a stranger--know of this short cut?" demurred Neale. "Idon't think that's very likely. "

"That's true--unless he'd had it pointed out to him, " rejoinedStarmidge. "It's odd, anyway, that his body should be found half-way, asit were, between Gabriel Chestermarke's place and Joseph Chestermarke'shouse--isn't it now? But, Lord bless you!--we're only on the fringe ofthis business as yet. Well--just take a look at him. "

Neale walked within the group of bystanders, feeling an intense dislikeand loathing of the whole thing. In obedience to Starmidge's wish, helooked steadily at the dead man and turned away. 

"You don't know him?--never saw him during the five years you were atthe bank?" whispered the detective. "Think!--make certain, now. "

"Never saw him in my life!" declared Neale, stepping back. "I neitherknow him nor anything about him. "

"I wanted you to make sure, " said Starmidge. "I thought youmight--possibly--recollect him as somebody who'd called at the bankduring your time. "

"No!" said Neale. "Certainly not! I've never set eyes on him until now. Of course, he's Hollis, I suppose?"

"Oh, without doubt!" answered Polke, who caught Neale's question as hecame up. "He's Hollis, right enough. Mr. Neale--here's a difficulty. It's a queer thing, but there isn't one of us here who knows if thisspot is in Scarnham or in Ellersdeane. Do you? Is it within our boroughboundary, or is it in Ellersdeane parish? The Ellersdeane policemanthere doesn't know, and I'm sure I don't! It's a point of importance, because the inquest'll have to be held in the parish in which the bodywas found. "

The Ellersdeane constable who had followed Polke suddenly raised afinger and pointed across the heather. 

"Here's a gentleman coming as might know, Mr. Polke, " he said. "Mr. Chestermarke!"

Neale and Starmidge turned sharply--to see the banker advancing quicklyfrom the adjacent road. A cab, drawn up a little distance off, showedthat he had driven out to hear the latest news. 

Polke stepped forward to meet the new-comer: Gabriel greeted him in hisusual impassive fashion. 

"This body been recovered?" he asked quietly. 

"A few minutes ago, Mr. Chestermarke, " answered Polke. "Will you look atit?"

Gabriel moved aside the group of men without further word, and theothers followed him. He looked steadily at the dead man's face andwithdrew. 

"Not known to me, " he said, in answer to an inquiring glance from Polke. "Hollis, I suppose, of course. "

He went off again as suddenly as he had come--and Starmidge drew Nealeaside. 

"Mr. Neale!" he whispered, with a nearer approach to excitement thanNeale had yet seen in him. "Did you see Gabriel Chestermarke's eyes?He's a liar! As sure as my name's Starmidge, he's a liar! Mr. Neale!--heknows that dead man!"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE INCOMPLETE CHEQUE

Neale, startled and amazed by this sudden outburst on the part of a manwhom up to that time he had taken to be unusually cool-headed andphlegmatic, did not immediately answer. He was watching the Ellersdeaneconstable, who was running after Gabriel Chestermarke's rapidlyretreating figure. He saw Gabriel stop, listen to an evident question, and then lift his hand and point to various features of the Hollow. Thepoliceman touched his helmet, and came back to Polke. 

"Mr. Chestermarke, sir, says the moorland is in three parishes, " hereported pantingly. "From Scarnham Bridge corner to Ellersdeane Toweryonder is in Scarnham parish: this side the Hollow is in Ellersdeane;everything beyond the Tower is in Middlethorpe. "

"Then we're in Scarnham, " said Polke. "He'll have to be taken down tothe town mortuary. We'd better see to it at once. What are you going todo, Starmidge?" he asked, as the detective turned away with Neale. 

"I'll take this short cut back, " said Starmidge. "I want to get to thepost-office. Yes, sir!" he went on, as he and Neale slowly walkedtowards Betty. "I say--he knew him! knew him, Mr. Neale, knew him!--assoon as ever he clapped his eyes on him!"

"You're very certain about it, " said Neale. 

"Dead certain!" exclaimed the detective. "I was watching him--purposely. I've taught myself to watch men. The slightest quiver of a lip--theleast bit of light in an eye--the merest twitch of a little finger--ah!don't I know 'em all, and know what they mean! And, when GabrielChestermarke stepped up to look at that body, I was watching that faceof his as I've never watched mortal man before!"

"And you saw--what?" asked Neale. 

"I saw--Recognition!" said Starmidge. "Recognition, sir! I'll stake myreputation as a detective officer that Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke has seenthat dead man before. He mayn't know him personally. He may never havespoken to him. But--he knew him! He'd seen him!"

"Will your conviction of that help at all?" inquired Neale. 

"It'll help me, " replied the detective quickly. "I'm gradually gettingsome ideas. But I shan't tell Polke--nor anybody else--of it. You cantell Miss Fosdyke if you like--she'll understand: women have moreintuition than men. Now I'm off--I want to get a wire away to London. Look here--drop in at the police-station when you get back. We shallexamine Hollis's clothing, you know--there may be some clue to Horbury. "

He hurried off towards the town, and Neale rejoined Betty. And as theyslowly followed the detective, he told her what Starmidge had just saidwith such evident belief--and Betty understood, as Starmidge hadprophesied, and she grew more thoughtful than ever. 

"When are we going to find a way out of all this miserable business!"she suddenly exclaimed. "Are we any nearer a solution because of what'sjust happened? Does that help us to finding out what's become of myuncle?"

"I suppose one thing's sure to lead to another, " said Neale. "That seemsto be the detective's notion, anyhow. If Starmidge is so certain thatGabriel Chestermarke knew Hollis, he'll work that for all it's worth. It's my opinion--whatever that's worth!--that Hollis came down here tosee the Chestermarkes. Did he see them? There's the problem. If onecould only find out--that!"

"I wish you and I could do something--apart from the police, " suggestedBetty. "Isn't there anything we could do?"

Neale pointed ahead to the high roof of Joseph Chestermarke's houseacross the river. 

"There's one thing I'd like to do--if I could, " he answered. "I'd justlike to know all the secrets of that place! That there are some I'm ascertain as that we're crossing this moor. You see that queer-shapedstructure--sort of conical chimney--sticking up amongst the trees inJoseph Chestermarke's garden? That's a workshop, or a laboratory, orsomething, in which Joseph spends his leisure moments. I'd like to knowwhat he does there. But nobody knows! Nobody is ever allowed in thathouse, nor in the garden. I don't know a single soul in all Scarnhamthat's ever been inside either. I'm perfectly certain Mr. Horbury wasnever asked there. Once Joseph's across his thresholds, back or front, there's an end of him--till he comes out again!"

"But--he doesn't live entirely alone, does he?" asked Betty. 

"As near as can be, " replied Neale. "His entire staff consists of an oldman and an old woman--man and wife--who've been with him--oh, ever sincehe was born, I believe! You may have seen the old man about thetown--old Palfreman. Everybody knows him--queer, old-fashioned chap: hegoes out to buy in whatever's wanted: the old woman never shows. That'sthe trio that live in there--a queer lot, aren't they?"

"It's all queer!" sighed Betty. "But now that this unfortunate man'sbody has been found--Wallie! do you think it possible he was thrown downthat mine? That would mean murder!"

"If he was thrown down there, already dead, " answered Neale grimly, "itwould not only mean murder but that more than one person was concernedin it. We shall know more when they've examined the body and searchedthe clothing. I'm going round to the police-station when I've seen youback to the hotel--I'm hoping they'll find something that'll settle theone point that's so worrying. "

"Which point?" asked Betty. 

"The real critical point--in my opinion, " answered Neale. "Who it wasthat Hollis came to see on Saturday? There may be letters, papers, onhim that'll settle that. And if we once know that--ah! that will make adifference! Because then--then----"

"What then?" demanded Betty. 

"Then the police can ask that person if Hollis did meet him!" exclaimedNeale. "And they can ask, too, what that person did with Hollis. Solvethat, and we'll see daylight!"

But Betty shook her head with clear indications of doubt as to thevalidity of this theory. 

"No!" she said. "It won't come off, Wallie. If there's been foul play, the guilty people will have had too much cleverness to leave anyevidences on their victim. I don't believe they'll find anything onHollis that'll clear things up. Daylight isn't coming from thatquarter!"

"Where are we to look for it, then?" asked Neale dismally. 

"It's somewhere far back, " declared Betty. "I've felt that all along. The secret of all this affair isn't in anything that's been done hereand lately--it's in something deep down. And how to get at it, and tofind out about my uncle, I don't know. "

Neale felt it worse than idle to offer more theories--speculation wasbecoming useless. He left Betty at the Scarnham Arms, and went round tothe police-station to meet Starmidge: together they went over to themortuary. And before noon they knew all that medical examination andcareful searching could tell them about the dead man. 

Hollis, said the police-surgeon and another medical man who had beencalled in to assist him, bore no marks of violence other than thosewhich were inevitable in the case of a man who had fallen seventy feet. His neck was broken; he must have died instantaneously. There wasnothing to show that there had been any struggle previous to his fall. Had such a struggle taken place, the doctors would have expected to findcertain signs and traces of it on the body: there were none. Everythingseemed to point to the theory that he had leaned over the insecurefencing of the old shaft to look into its depths; probably to dropstones into them; that the loose, unmortared parapet had given way withhis weight, and that he had plunged headlong to the bottom. He mighthave been pushed in--from behind--of course, but that was conjecture. Under ordinary circumstances, agreed both doctors, everything would haveseemed to point to accident. And one of them suggested that it was veryprobable that what really had happened was this--Hollis, on his way tocall on some person in the neighbourhood, or on his return from such acall, had crossed the moor, been attracted by inquisitiveness to the oldmine, had leaned over its parapet, and fallen in. Accident!--it alllooked like sheer accident. 

In one of the rooms at the police-station, Neale anxiously watched Polkeand Starmidge examine the dead man's clothing and personal effects. Thedetective rapidly laid aside certain articles of the sort which heevidently expected to find--a purse, a cigar-case; the usual smallthings found in a well-to-do man's pockets; a watch and chain; a ring ortwo. He gave no particular attention to any of these beyond ascertainingthat there was a good deal of loose money in the purse--some twelve orfifteen pounds in gold--and pointing out that the watch had stopped atten minutes to eight. 

"That shows the time of the accident, " he remarked. 

"Are you sure?" suggested Polke doubtfully. "It may merely mean that thewatch ran itself out then. "

Starmidge picked up the watch--a stem winder--and examined it. 

"No, " he said, "it's broken--by the fall. See there!--the spring'ssnapped. Ten minutes to eight, Saturday night, Mr. Polke--that's whenthis affair happened. Now then, this is what I want!"

From an inner pocket of the dead man's smart morning-coat, he drew amorocco-leather letter-case, and carefully extracted the papers from it. With Neale looking on at one side, and Polke at the other, Starmidgeexamined every separate paper. Nothing that he found bore any referenceto Scarnham. There were one or two bills--from booksellers--made out toFrederick Hollis, Esquire. There was a folded playbill which showed thatMr. Hollis had recently been to a theatre, and--because of somepencilled notes on its margins--had taken an unusual interest in what hesaw there. There were two or three letters from correspondents whoevidently shared with Mr. Hollis a taste for collecting old books andengravings. There were some cuttings from newspapers: they, too, relatedto collecting. And Neale suddenly got an idea. 

"I say!" he exclaimed. "Mr. Horbury was a bit of a collector of thatsort of thing, as you probably saw from his house. This man may haverun down to see him about some affair of that sort. "

But at that moment Starmidge unfolded a slip of paper which he had drawnfrom an inner pocket of the letter-case. He gave one glance at it, andlaid it flat on the table before his companions. 

"No!" he said. "That's probably what brought Hollis down to Scarnham! Acheque for ten thousand pounds! And--incomplete!"

The three men bent wonderingly over the bit of pink paper. Neale's quickeyes took in its contents at a glance. 

 LONDON: _May 12th, 1912_. VANDERKISTE, MULLINEAU & COMPANY, 563 LOMBARD STREET, E. C. 

 Pay . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Or Order the sum of Ten Thousand Pounds £10, 000. 00. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

"That's extraordinary!" exclaimed Neale. "Date and amount filled in--andthe names of payee and drawer omitted! What does it mean?"

"Ah!" said Starmidge, "when we know that, Mr. Neale, we shall know alot! But I'm pretty sure of one thing. Mr. Hollis came down hereintending to pay somebody ten thousand pounds. And--he wasn't exactlycertain who that somebody was!"

"Good!" muttered Polke. "Good! That looks like it. "

"So, " said Starmidge, "he didn't fill in either the name of the payee orhis own name until he was--sure! See, Mr. Neale!"

"Why did he fill in the amount?" remarked Neale, sceptically. 

Starmidge winked at Polke. 

"Very likely to dangle before somebody's eyes, " he answered slyly. "Can't you reconstruct the scene, Mr. Neale? 'Here you are!' saysHollis, showing this cheque. 'Ten thousand of the very best, lying to bepicked up at my bankers. Say the word, and I'll fill in your name andmine!' Lay you a pound to a penny that's been it, gentlemen!"

"Good!" repeated Polke. "Good, sergeant! I believe you're right. Now, what'll you do about it?"

The detective carefully folded up the cheque and replaced it in the slitfrom which he had taken it. He also replaced all the other papers, putthe letter-case in a stout envelope and handed it to the superintendent. 

"Seal it up and put it away in your safe till the inquest tomorrow, " hesaid. "What shall I do? Oh, well--you needn't mention it, either of you, except to Miss Fosdyke, of course--but as soon as the inquest isadjourned--as it'll have to be--I shall slip back to town and see thosebankers. I don't know, but I don't think it's likely that Mr. Holliswould have ten thousand pounds always lying at his bank. I should saythis ten thousand has been lodged there for a special purpose. And whatI shall want to find out from them, in that case, is--what specialpurpose? And--what had it to do with Scarnham, or anybody at Scarnham?See? And I'll tell you what, Mr. Polke--I don't know whether we'llproduce that cheque at the inquest on Hollis--at first, anyhow. Thecoroner's bound to adjourn--all he'll want tomorrow will be formalidentification of the body--all other evidence can be left till later. I've wired for Simmons--he'll be able to identify. No--we'll keep thischeque business back till I've been to London. I shall find outsomething from Vanderkistes--they're highly respectable private bankers, and they'll tell me----"

At that moment a policeman entered the room and presented Polke with acard. 

"Gentleman's just come in, sir, " he said. "Wants to see you particular. "

Polke glanced at the card, and read the name aloud, with a start ofsurprise: "Mr. Leonard Hollis!"

CHAPTER XIX

THE DEAD MAN'S BROTHER

Polke hastily followed the policeman from the room--to returnimmediately with a quiet-looking elderly gentleman in whom Neale andStarmidge saw a distinct likeness to the dead man. 

"His brother!" whispered Polke, as he handed a chair to the visitor. "Soyou've seen about this in the newspapers, sir?" he went on, turning toMr. Leonard Hollis. "And you thought you'd better come over, I suppose?"

"I have not only read about it in the newspapers, " answered the visitor, "but I last night--very late--received a telegram from my brother'sclerk--Mr. Simmons--who evidently found my address at my brother'srooms. So I left Birmingham--where I now live--at once, to see you. Now, have you heard anything of my brother?"

Polke shook his head solemnly and warningly. 

"I'm sorry to say we have, sir, " he replied. "You'd better prepare forthe worst news, Mr. Hollis. We found the body this morning--not twohours ago. And--we don't know, as yet, how he came by his death. Thedoctors say it may have been pure accident. Let's hope it was! But thereare strange circumstances, sir--very strange!"

Hollis quietly rose from his chair. 

"I suppose I can see him?" he asked. 

Polke led him out of the room, and Starmidge turned to Neale. 

"We're gradually getting at something, Mr. Neale, " he said. "All thisleads somewhere, you know. Now, since we found that incomplete cheque, there's a question I wanted to ask you. You've left Chestermarke's Banknow, and under the circumstances we're working in you needn't have anydelicacy about answering questions about them. Do you know of any recenttransaction of theirs which involved ten thousand pounds?"

"No!" replied Neale. "I certainly don't. "

"Nor any sum approaching it?" suggested Starmidge. "Or exceeding it?"

"Nothing whatever!" reiterated Neale. "I know of all recent bankingtransactions at Chestermarke's, and I can't think--I've been thinkingsince we saw that cheque--of anything that the cheque had to do with. "

"Well--it's a queer thing, " remarked the detective meditatively. "I'lllay anything Hollis brought that cheque down here for some specificpurpose--and who on earth is there in this place that he could bring itto but Chestermarke's? However, we'll see if I don't trace somethingabout it when I get up to town, and then----"

Polke and the dead man's brother came back, talking earnestly. Thesuperintendent carefully closed the door, and begging his visitor to beseated again, turned to Starmidge. 

"I've told Mr. Hollis all the main facts of the case, " he said. "Ofcourse, he identified his brother at once. "

"When did you see him last, sir!" asked Starmidge. 

"Some eight or nine months ago, " replied Hollis. "He came to see me, inBirmingham. Previous to that, I hadn't seen him for several years. Iought to tell you, " he went on, turning to Polke, "that for a great manyyears I have lived abroad--tea-planting in Ceylon. I came back toEngland about a year ago, and eventually settled down at Edgbaston. Isuppose my brother's clerk found my address on an old letter orsomething last night, and wired to me in consequence. "

"When Simmons was here, " observed Starmidge, "he said that your brotherseemed to have no relations. "

"I daresay Simmons would get that impression, " remarked Hollis. "Mybrother was a very reserved man, who was not likely to talk much of hisfamily. As a matter of fact, I am about the only relation he had--exceptsome half-cousins, or something of that sort. "

"Can you tell us anything about your brother's position?" askedStarmidge. "The clerk said he didn't practise very much, and had meansof his own. "

"Quite true, " assented Hollis. "I believe he had a comfortable income, apart from his practice--perhaps five or six hundred a year. Hementioned to me that he only did business for old clients. "

"Do you think he'd be likely to have a sum of ten thousand pounds lyingat his bankers?" inquired Starmidge. 

Hollis looked sharply at the detective and then shook his head. 

"Not unless it was for some special purpose, " he answered. "He mighthave such a sum if he'd been selling out securities for re-investment. But my impression is--in fact, it's more than an impression--I'm surethat he bought himself an annuity of about the amount I mentioned justnow, some years ago. You see, he'd no children, and he knew that I was awell-to-do man, so--he used his capital in that a way. "

"Would you be surprised to see a cheque of his drawn for ten thousandpounds?" asked Starmidge suddenly. 

"Frankly, I should!" replied Hollis, with a smile. "That is, if it wason his private account. "

"Do you happen to know who kept his private account?" inquiredStarmidge. 

"Yes, " answered Hollis. "He banked with an old private firm calledVanderkiste, Mullineau & Company, of Lombard Street. "

Starmidge, after a whispered word with Polke, took up the envelope inwhich he had placed the dead man's letter-case, and produced the cheque. 

"Look at that, sir, " he said, laying it before the visitor. "Is thatyour brother's handwriting?"

"His handwriting--oh, yes!" exclaimed Hollis. "Most certainly!But--there's no signature!"

"No--and there's no name of any payee, " said Starmidge. "That's wherethe mystery comes in. But--this--and this letter-case and itscontents--was found on him, and there's no doubt he came down toScarnham intending to pay that cheque to somebody. You can't throw anylight on that, sir?"

The visitor, who continued to regard the cheque with evident amazement, at last turned away from it and glanced at his three companions. 

"Well, " he said, "I don't know that I can. But one principal reason whyI hurried here, after getting Simmons' telegram last night, is this: Inthe newspapers there is a good deal of mention of a Mr. John Horbury, manager of a bank in this town. He, too, you tell me, has disappeared. Now, I happen to possess a remarkably good memory, and it was at oncestirred by seeing that name. My brother Frederick and I were at schooltogether at Selburgh--Selburgh Grammar School, you know--quitethirty-five or six years ago. One of our schoolmates was a John Horbury. And--he came from this place--Scarnham. "

The three listeners looked at each other. And Neale started, as if atsome sudden reminiscence, and he spoke quickly. 

"I've heard Mr. Horbury speak of his school-days at Selburgh!" he said. "And--now I come to think of it--he had some books with the schoolcoat-of-arms on the sides--prizes. "

"Just so!" remarked Hollis. "I remember Jack Horbury very well indeed, though I never saw him after I left school, nor heard of him either, until I saw all this news about him in the papers. Of course, yourmissing bank manager is the John Horbury my brother and I were at schoolwith! And I take it that the reason my brother came down to Scarnhamlast Saturday was--to see John Horbury. "

Starmidge had been listening to all this with close attention. He wasnow more than ever convinced that he was at last on some track--but sofar he could not see many steps ahead. Nevertheless, his next step wasclearly enough discernible. 

"You say you saw your brother some eight or nine months ago, sir?" heremarked. "Did he mention Mr. Horbury to you at that time?"

"No, he didn't, " replied Hollis. 

"Did he ever--recently, I mean--ever mention his name to you in aletter?" asked Starmidge. 

"No--never! I don't know, " said Hollis, "that he or I ever spoke to eachother of John Horbury from the time we left school. John Horbury wasnot, as it were, a very particular chum of ours. We knew him--as we knewa hundred other boys. As I have already told you, the two names, Horbury, Scarnham, in the newspapers yesterday, immediately recalledJohn Horbury, our schoolmate, to me. Up to then, I don't suppose I'dever thought of him for--years! And I don't suppose he'd ever thought ofme, or of my brother. Yet--I feel sure my brother came here to see him. For business reasons, I suppose?"

"The odd thing about that, Mr. Hollis, " remarked Polke, "is that wecan't find the slightest reason, either from anybody here, or from yourbrother's clerk in London, why your brother should come to see Horbury, whether for business, or for any other purpose. And as to hisremembering Mr. Frederick Hollis, well, here's Mr. Neale--Mr. Horburywas his guardian--and Mr. Neale, of course, has known him all his life. Now, Mr. Neale never heard him mention Mr. Frederick Hollis by name atany time. And there's now staying in the town Mr. Horbury's niece, MissFosdyke; she, too, never heard her uncle speak of any Mr. Hollis. Then, as to business--the partners at Chestermarke's Bank declare that theyknow nothing whatever of your brother--Mr. Gabriel, the senior partner, has seen the poor gentleman, and didn't recognize him. So--we at anyrate, are as wise as ever. We don't know what your brother came herefor!"

Hollis bowed his head in full acceptance of the superintendent'sremarks. But he looked up at Starmidge and smiled. 

"Exactly!" he said. "I quite understand you, Mr. Polke. But--I amconvinced that my brother came here to see John Horbury. Why he came, Iknow no more than you do--but I hope to know!"

"You'll stay in the town a bit, sir?" suggested Polke. "You'll want tomake arrangements for your poor brother's funeral, of course. Aught thatwe can do, sir, to help, shall be done. "

"I'm much obliged to you, Mr. Polke, " replied Hollis. "Yes, I shallcertainly stay in Scarnham. In fact, " he went on, rising and lookingquietly from one man to the other, "I shall stay in Scarnham until I, or you, or somebody have satisfactorily explained how my brother came tohis death! I shall spare neither effort nor money to get at thetruth--that's my determination!"

"There's somebody else in like case with you, Mr. Hollis, " observedPolke. "Miss Fosdyke's just as concerned about her uncle as you areabout your brother. She declares she'll spend a fortune on findinghim--or finding out what's happened to him. It was Miss Fosdyke insistedon having Detective-Sergeant Starmidge down at once. "

Hollis quietly scrutinized the detective. 

"Well?" he asked. "And what do you make of it?"

But Starmidge was not in the mood for saying anything more just then, and he put his questioner off, asking him, at the same time, to keep thematter of the cheque to himself. Presently Hollis went away with Neale, to whom he wished to talk, and Starmidge, after a period of what seemedto be profound thought, turned to Polke. 

"Superintendent!" he said earnestly. "With your leave, I'd like to tryan experiment. "

"What experiment?" demanded Polke. 

Starmidge pointed to the ten thousand pound cheque, which was stilllying on the table. 

"I'd like to take that cheque across to Chestermarke's Bank, and show itto the partners, " he answered. 

"Good heavens!--why?" exclaimed Polke. "I thought you didn't wantanybody to know about it. "

"Never mind--I've an idea, " said the detective. "I'd just like them tosee it, anyway, and, " he added, with a wink, "I'd like to see them whenthey do see it!"

"You know best, " said Polke. "If you think it well, do it. "

Starmidge put the cheque in an envelope and walked over to the bank. Hewas shown into the partners' room almost immediately, and the two menglanced at him with evident curiosity. 

"Sorry to trouble you, gentlemen, " said Starmidge, in his politestmanner. "There's a little matter you might help us in. We've beensearching this unfortunate gentleman's clothing, you know, for papersand so on. And in his letter-case we found--this!"

He had the cheque ready behind his back, and he suddenly brought itforward, and laid it immediately before the partners, on Gabriel's desk, at the same time stepping back so that he could observe both men. 

"Queer, isn't it, gentlemen?" he remarked quietly. "Incomplete!"

Gabriel Chestermarke, in spite of his habitual control, started: Joseph, bending nearer to the desk, made a curious sound of surprise. A secondlater they both looked at Starmidge--each as calm as ever. "Well?" saidGabriel. 

"You don't know anything about that, gentlemen?" asked Starmidge, affecting great innocence. 

"Nothing!" answered Gabriel. 

"Of course not!" murmured Joseph, a little derisively. 

"I thought you might recognize that handwriting, " suggested Starmidge, using one of his previously invented excuses. 

"No!" replied Gabriel. "Don't know it!"

"From Adam's writing, " added Joseph. 

"You know the name of the bankers, I suppose, gentlemen?" asked thedetective. 

"Vanderkiste? Oh, yes!" assented Gabriel. "Well-known city firm. But Idon't think we've ever done business with them, " he added, turning tohis nephew. 

"Never!" replied Joseph. "In my time, at any rate. "

Starmidge picked up the cheque and carefully replaced it in itsenvelope. 

"Much obliged to you, gentlemen, " he said, retreating towards the door. "Oh!--you'll be interested in hearing, no doubt, that the dead man'sbrother, Mr. Leonard Hollis, of Birmingham, has come. He's identifiedthe body. "

"And what does he think, or suggest?" asked Joseph, glancing out of thecorners of his eyes at Starmidge. "Has he any suggestions--or ideas?"

"He thinks his brother came here to meet Mr. Horbury, " answeredStarmidge. 

"That's so evident that it's no news, " remarked Joseph. "Perhaps he cansuggest where Horbury's to be found. "

Starmidge bowed and went out and straight back to Polke. He handed himthe cheque and the letter-case. 

"Lock 'em up!" he said. "Now then, listen! You can do all that'snecessary about that inquest. I'm off to town. Sit down, and I'll tellyou why. And what I tell you, keep to yourself. "

That evening, Starmidge, who had driven quietly across the country fromScarnham to Ecclesborough, joined a London express at the MidlandStation in the big town. The carriages were unusually full, and he hadsome difficulty in finding the corner seat that he particularly desired. But he got one, at last, at the very end of the train, and he had onlyjust settled himself in it when he saw Gabriel Chestermarke hurry past. Starmidge put his head out of the window and watched--Gabriel entered afirst-class compartment in the next coach. 

"First stop Nottingham!" mused the detective. And he pulled a sheaf oftelegram forms out of his pocket, and leisurely began to write a messagewhich before he signed his name to it had run into many words. 

CHAPTER XX

THE OTHER CHEQUE

Starmidge sent off his telegram when the train stopped at Nottingham, and thereafter went to sleep, secure in the knowledge that it would bepromptly acted upon by its recipients. And when, soon after eleveno'clock, the express ran into St. Pancras, he paid no particularattention to Gabriel Chestermarke. He had no desire, indeed, that thebanker should see him, and he hung back when the crowded carriagescleared, and the platform became a scene of bustle and animation. But hehad no difficulty in distinguishing Gabriel's stiffly erect figure as itmade its way towards the hall of the station, and his sharp eyes werequick to notice a quietly dressed, unobtrusive sort of man who saunteredalong, caught sight of the banker, and swung round to follow him. Starmidge watched both pass along towards the waiting lines ofvehicles--then he turned on his heel and went to the refreshment roomand straight to a man who evidently expected him. 

"You got the wire in good time, then?" said Starmidge. 

"Plenty!" answered the other man laconically. "I've put a good man on tohim. See anything of them?"

"Yes--but I didn't know our man, " remarked Starmidge. "Who is he? Willhe do what I want?"

"He's all right--fellow who's just been promoted, and, of course, he'snaturally keen, " replied Starmidge's companion. "Name of Gandam. Thatwas a pretty good and full description of the man you want followed, Starmidge, " he went on, with a smile. "You don't leave much out!"

"I didn't want him to be overlooked, and I didn't want to show upmyself, " said Starmidge. "I noticed that our man spotted him quick. Now, look here--I'll be at headquarters first thing tomorrow morning--I wantthis chap Gandam's report. Nine-thirty sharp! Now we'll have a drink, and I'll get home. "

"Good case, this?" asked the other man, as they pledged each other. "Getting on with it?"

"Tell you more tomorrow, " answered Starmidge. "When--and if--I knowmore. Nine-thirty, mind!"

But when Starmidge met his companion of the night before at nine-thirtynext morning, it was to find him in conversation with the other man, andto see dissatisfaction on the countenances of both. And Starmidge, anaturally keen observer, knew what had happened. He frowned as he lookedat Gandam. 

"You don't mean to say he slipped you!" he exclaimed. 

"I don't know about slipped, " muttered Gandam. "I lost him, anyway, Mr. Starmidge, and I don't see how I can be blamed, either. Perhaps youmight have done differently, but----"

"Tell about it!" interrupted Starmidge. "What happened?"

"I spotted him, of course, from your description, as soon as he got outof the train, " replied Gandam. "No mistaking him, naturally--he's anextra good one to watch. He'd no luggage--not even a handbag. I followedhim to the taxi-cabs. I was close by when he stepped into one, and Iheard what he said. 'Stage door--Adalbert Theatre. ' Off he went--Ifollowed in another taxi. I stopped mine and got out, just in time tosee him walk up the entry to the stage-door. He went in. It was thenhalf-past eleven; they were beginning to close. I waited and waiteduntil at last they closed the stage-door. I'll take my oath he'd nevercome out!--never!"

Starmidge made a face of intense disgust. 

"No, of course he hadn't!" he exclaimed. "He'd gone out at the front. Isuppose that never struck you? I know that stage-door of theAdalbert--it's up a passage. If you'd stood at the end of that passage, man, you could have kept an eye on the front and stage-door at the sametime. But, of course, it never struck you that a man could go in at theback of a place and come out at the front, did it? Well--that's off forthe present. And so am I. "

Vexed and disappointed that Gabriel Chestermarke had not been tracked towherever he was staying in London, Starmidge went out, hailed ataxi-cab, and was driven down to the city. He did not particularlyconcern himself about Gabriel's visit to the stage-door of the AdalbertTheatre; it was something, after all, to know he had gone there: if needarose, he might be traced from that theatre, in which, very possibly, hehad some financial interest. What Starmidge had desired to ascertainwas the banker's London address: he had already learned in Scarnham thatGabriel Chestermarke was constantly in London for days at a time--hemust have some permanent address at which he could be found. AndStarmidge foresaw that he might wish to find him--perhaps in a hurry. 

But just then his chief concern was with another bankingfirm--Vanderkiste's. He walked slowly along Lombard Street until he cameto the house--a quiet, sober, eminently respectable-looking old businessplace, quite unlike the palatial affairs in which the great bankingcorporations of modern origin carry on their transactions. There was nodisplay of marble and plaster and plate glass and mahogany and heavyplethoric fittings--a modest brass plate affixed to the door was theonly sign and announcement that banking business was carried on within. Equally old-fashioned and modest was the interior--and Starmidge wasquick to notice that the clerks were all elderly or middle-aged men, solemn and grave as undertakers. 

The presentation of the detective's official card procured him speedyentrance to a parlour in which sat two old gentlemen, who were evidentlygreatly surprised to see him. They were so much surprised indeed, as tobe almost childishly interested, and Starmidge had never had suchattentive listeners in his life as these two elderly city men, to whomcrime and detention were as unfamiliar as higher finance was to theirvisitor. They followed Starmidge's story point by point, nodding everynow and then as he drew their attention to particular passages, and thedetective saw that they comprehended all he said. He made an end atlast--and Mr. Vanderkiste, a white-bearded, benevolent-lookinggentleman, looked at Mr. Mullineau, a little, rosy-faced man, and shookhis head. 

"It would be an unusual thing, certainly, " he observed, "for Mr. Frederick Hollis to have ten thousand pounds lying here to his credit. Mr. Hollis was an old customer--we knew him very well--but he didn'tkeep a lot of money here. We--er--know his circumstances. He boughthimself a very nice annuity some years ago--it was paid into his accounthere twice a year. But--ten thousand pounds!"

Mr. Mullineau leaned forward. 

"We don't know if Frederick Hollis paid any large amount in lately, youknow, " he observed. "Hadn't you better summon Linthwaite?"

"Our manager, " remarked Mr. Vanderkiste, as he touched a bell. "Ah, yes, of course--he'll know. Mr. Linthwaite, " he continued, as another elderlyman entered the room, "can you tell us what Mr. Frederick Hollis'sbalance in our hands is?"

"I have just been looking it up, sir, " replied the manager, "inconsequence of this sad news in the papers. Ten thousand, eight hundred, seventy-nine, five, four, Mr. Vanderkiste. "

"Ten thousand eight hundred and seventy-nine pounds, five shillings andfourpence, " repeated Mr. Vanderkiste. "Ah! An unusually large amount, Ithink, Mr. Linthwaite?"

"Just so, sir, " agreed the manager. "The reason is that rather morethan a week ago Mr. Hollis called here himself with a cheque for tenthousand pounds which he paid into his account, explaining to me that ithad been handed to him for a special purpose, and that he should draw acheque for his own against it, for the same amount, very shortly. "

"Ah!" remarked Mr. Vanderkiste. "Has the cheque which he paid in beencleared?"

"We cleared it at once, " replied the manager. "Oh, yes! But the chequewhich Mr. Hollis spoke of drawing against it has not come in--and now, of course----"

"Just so, " said Mr. Vanderkiste. "Now that he's dead, of course, hischeque is no good. Um! That will do, thank you, Mr. Linthwaite. "

He turned and looked at Starmidge when the manager had withdrawn. 

"That explains matters, " he said. "The ten thousand pounds had been paidto Mr. Frederick Hollis for a special purpose. "

"But--by whom?" asked Starmidge. "That's precisely what I want to know!The knowledge will help me--ah!--I don't know how much it mayn't helpme! For there's no doubt about it, gentlemen, Hollis went down toScarnham to pay ten thousand pounds to somebody on somebody else'saccount! He was, I am sure, as it were, ambassador for somebody. Whowas--who is--that somebody? Almost certainly, the person who gave Hollisthe cheque your manager has just mentioned--and whose ten thousandpounds is, as a matter of fact, still lying in your hands! Who is thatperson? What bank was the cheque drawn on? Let me have an answer toboth these questions, and----"

The two old gentlemen exchanged looks, and Mr. Mullineau quietly roseand left the room. In his absence Mr. Vanderkiste shook his head at thedetective. 

"A very, very queer case, officer!" he remarked. 

"An extraordinary case, sir, " agreed Starmidge. "Before we get to theend of it there'll be some strange revelations, Mr. Vanderkiste. "

"So I should imagine--so I should imagine!" assented the old gentleman. "Very remarkable proceedings altogether! We shall be deeply interestedin hearing how matters progress. Of course, this affair of the tenthousand pounds is very curious. We----"

Mr. Mullineau came back--with a slip of paper, which he handed to thedetective. 

"That gives you the information you want, " he said. 

Starmidge read aloud what the manager had written down on hisprincipal's instructions. 

"Drawer--Helen Lester, " he read. "Bank--London & Universal: Pall MallBranch. " He looked up at the two partners. "I suppose you gentlemendon't know who this Mrs. Or Miss Helen Lester is?" he inquired. 

"No--not at all, " answered Mr. Mullineau. "Nor does Linthwaite. Ithought Mr. Hollis might have told him something about that specialpurpose. But--he told him nothing. "

"You'll have to go to the London & Universal people, " observed Mr. Vanderkiste. "They, of course, will know all about this customer. "

Mullineau looked inquiringly at his partner. 

"Don't you think that--as there are almost certain to be somecomplications about this matter--Linthwaite had better go with DetectiveStarmidge?" he suggested. "The situation, as regards the ten thousandpounds, is a somewhat curious one. This Miss or Mrs. Lester will want torecover it. Now, according to what Mr. Starmidge tells us, no body, sofar as he's aware, is in possession of any facts, papers, letters, anything, relating to it. I think there should be some consultationbetween ourselves and this other bank which is concerned. "

"Excellent suggestion!" agreed Mr. Vanderkiste. "Let him go--by allmeans. "

Half an hour later, Starmidge found himself closeted with another lot ofbankers. But these were younger men, who were quicker to graspsituations and comprehend points, and they quickly understood what thedetective was after: moreover, they were already well posted up in thosedetails of the Scarnham mystery which had already appeared in thenewspapers. 

"What you want, " said one of them, a young and energetic man, addressingStarmidge at the end of their preliminary conversation, "is to find outfor what purpose Mrs. Lester gave Mr. Frederick Hollis ten thousandpounds?"

"Precisely, " replied Starmidge. "It will go far towards clearing up agood many things. "

"I have no doubt Mrs. Lester will tell you readily enough, " said thebanker. "In fact, as things are, I should say she'll only be too glad togive you any information you want. That ten thousand pounds being inMessrs. Vanderkiste's hands, in Hollis's name, and Hollis being dead, there will be bother--not serious, of course, but still formalbother--about recovering it. Very well--Mrs. Lester, who, I may tellyou, is a wealthy customer of ours, lives in the country as a rule, andI happen to know she's there now. I'll write down her address. Tell her, by all means, that you have been to see us on the matter. "

Starmidge left Mr. Linthwaite talking with the London & Universalpeople; he himself, now that he had got the desired information, had nomore to say. Outside the bank he opened the slip of paper which had justbeen handed to him, and saw that another journey lay before him. Mrs. Lester lived at Lowdale Court, near Chesham. 

CHAPTER XII

ABOUT CENT PER CENT. 

Starmidge, lingering a moment on the steps of the bank to considerwhether he would go straight to Chesham or repair to headquarters for aconsultation with his superior, was suddenly joined by the manager whohad just given him his information. 

"You are going down to Lowdale Court?" asked the manager. 

"During the morning--yes, " answered Starmidge. 

"If it will be any help to you, " said the manager, "I'll ring up Mrs. Lester on the telephone, and let her know you're coming. She's rather anervous woman and it will pave the way for you if I give you a sort ofintroduction. Besides--" here he paused, and looked at the detectivewith an inquiring air--"don't you think Mrs. Lester had better bewarned--at once--not to speak of this matter until she's seen you?"

"You think she may be approached?" asked Starmidge. 

The manager wagged his head and smiled knowingly. 

"I think there's something so very queer about this affair that Mrs. Lester ought to be seen at once, " he said. 

"She shall be!" answered Starmidge. "Tell her I'll be down there withintwo hours--I'll motor there. Thank you for your suggestion. Now I'lljust run to headquarters and then be straight off. "

He hailed a passing taxi-cab and drove to New Scotland Yard, where hewas presently closeted with a high personage in deep and seriousconsultation, the result of which was that by twelve o'clock, Starmidgeand a fellow-officer, one Easleby, in whom he had great confidence, werespinning away towards the beech-clad hills of Buckinghamshire, anddiscussing the features and probabilities of the queer business whichtook them there. Before two, they were in the pleasant valley which liesbetween Chenies and Chesham and pulling up at the door of a fine oldJacobean house, which, set in the midst of delightful lawns and gardens, looked down on the windings of the river Chess. And practical as bothmen were, and well experienced in their profession, it struck both asstrange that they should come to such a quiet and innocent-looking placeto seek some explanation of a mystery which had surely some connectionwith crime. 

The two detectives were immediately shown into a morning room in whichsat a little, middle-aged lady in a widow's cap and weeds, who looked ather visitors half-timidly, half-welcomingly. She sat by a small table onwhich lay a heap of newspapers, and Starmidge's sharp eyes saw at oncethat she had been reading the published details of the Scarnham affair. 

"You have no doubt been informed by your bankers that we were coming, ma'am?" began Starmidge, when he and Easleby had seated themselves nearMrs. Lester. "The manager there was good enough to say he'd telephoneyou. "

Mrs. Lester, who had been curiously inspecting her callers and appearedsomewhat relieved to find that they were quite ordinary-looking beings, entirely unlike her own preconceived notions of detectives, bowed herhead. 

"Yes, " she answered, "my bankers telephoned that an officer fromScotland Yard would call on me this morning, and that I was to speakfreely to him, and in confidence, but--I really don't quite know what itis that I'm to talk to you about, though I suppose I can guess. "

"This, ma'am, " answered Starmidge, bending towards the pile ofnewspapers and tapping a staring head-line with his finger. "I seeyou've been reading it up. I have been in charge of this affair sinceMonday last, and I came up to town last night about it--specially. Youwill have read in this morning's paper that the body of Mr. FrederickHollis was found at Scarnham yesterday?"

"Yes, " said Mrs. Lester, with a sigh. "I have read of that. Of course, Iknew Mr. Hollis--he was an old friend of my husband. I saw him lastweek. But--what took Mr. Hollis down to Scarnham? I have been in thehabit of seeing Mr. Hollis constantly--regularly--and I never even heardhim mention Scarnham, nor any person living at Scarnham. There are manypersons mentioned in these newspaper accounts, " continued Mrs. Lester, "in connection with this affair whose names I never heard before--yetthey are mentioned as if Mr. Hollis had something to do with them. Whydid he go there?"

"That, ma'am, is precisely what we want to find out from you!" repliedStarmidge, with a side glance at his fellow-detective. "It's just whatwe've come for!"

He was watching Mrs. Lester very closely as he spoke, and he saw that upto that moment she had certainly no explanation in her own mind as tothe reason of this police visit. 

"But what can I tell you?" she exclaimed. "As I have said, I don't knowwhy Frederick Hollis went to Scarnham! He never mentioned Scarnham to mewhen he was here last week. "

"Let me tell you something that is not in the papers--yet--ma'am, " saidStarmidge. "I think it will explain matters to you. When we examined Mr. Hollis's effects at Scarnham, yesterday morning, after the finding ofhis body, we found in his letter-case a cheque for ten thousandpounds----"

Starmidge stopped suddenly. Mrs. Lester had started, and her pale facehad grown paler. Her eyes dilated as she looked at the two men. 

"A cheque!" she exclaimed. "For--ten thousand pounds. On--him?And--whose cheque?"

"It was a curious cheque, ma'am, " replied Starmidge. "It was drawn onMr. Hollis's bankers, Vanderkiste, Mullineau & Company, of LombardStreet. It was dated. It was filled in for ten thousand pounds--in wordsand in figures. But it was not signed--and it was not made out to anybody. No name of payee, you understand, ma'am, no name of payer. But--itis very evident Mr. Hollis made out that cheque intending to pay itto--somebody. What we want to know is--who is--or was, that somebody? Icame up to town to try to find that out! I went to Mr. Hollis's bankersthis morning. They told me that last week Mr. Hollis paid into hisaccount there a cheque for ten thousand pounds, drawn by Helen Lester, and told their manager that he should be drawing a cheque for his ownagainst it in a day or two. I then went to your bank, ma'am, saw yourbankers, and got your address. Now, Mrs. Lester, there's no doubtwhatever that the cheque which we found on Mr. Hollis is the cheque hespoke of to Vanderkiste's manager. And we want you, if you please, totell us two things: For what purpose did you give Mr. Hollis tenthousand pounds?--To whom was he to pay it? Tell us, ma'am--and we shallhave gone a long way to clearing this affair! And--it's more seriousthan you'd think. "

Mrs. Lester, who had listened to Starmidge with absorbed and almostfrightened attention, looked anxiously at both men before she replied tothe detective's direct inquiry. 

"You will respect my confidence, of course?" she asked at last. "Whatever I say to you will be in strict confidence?"

"Whatever you tell us, Mrs. Lester, " answered Starmidge, "we shall haveto report to our superiors at the Criminal Investigation Department. Youmay rely on their discretion--fully. But if there is any secret inthis, ma'am, it will all have to come out, now that it's an affair ofpolice investigation. Far better tell us here and now!"

"There'll be no publication of anything without Mrs. Lester's knowledgeand consent, " remarked Easleby, who guessed at the reason of the lady'sdiffidence. "This is a private matter, so far. All that she can tell uswill be for police information--only. "

"I shall have to mention the affairs of--some other person, " said Mrs. Lester. "But--I suppose it's absolutely necessary? Now that you knowwhat you do, for instance, I suppose I could be made to give evidence, eh!"

"I'm afraid you're quite right, ma'am, " admitted Starmidge. "The mysteryof Mr. Hollis's death will certainly have to be cleared up. Now thatthis cheque affair is out, you could be called as a witness at theinquest. Better tell us, ma'am--and leave things to us. "

Mrs. Lester, after a moment's reflection, looked steadily at hervisitors. "Very well!" she answered, "I suppose I had better. Indeed, Ihave been feeling, ever since my bankers rang me up this morning, that Ishould have to tell you--though I still can't see how anything that Ican tell you has to do--that is, precisely--with Mr. Hollis's visit toScarnham. Yet--it may--perhaps must have. The fact is, I recently calledin Mr. Hollis, as an old friend, to give me some advice. I must tell youthat my husband died last year--now about eight months ago. We have anonly son--who is an officer in the Army. "

"You had better give us his name--and regiment, ma'am, " suggestedStarmidge. 

Mrs. Lester hesitated a little. 

"Very well, " she said at last. "He is Lieutenant Guy Lester, of the 55thLancers. Stationed where? At present at Maychester. Now I have got totell you what is both painful and unpleasant for me to tell. My husband, though a very kind father, was a very strict one. When our son wentinto the Army, his father made him a certain yearly allowance which hehimself considered a very handsome one. But my husband, " continued Mrs. Lester, with a faint smile, "had been engaged in commercial pursuits allhis life, until a year or two before his death, and he did not know thatthe expenses, and the--well, the style of living in a crack cavalryregiment are--what they are. More than once Guy asked his father toincrease his allowance--considerably. His father always refused--he wasa strict and, in some ways, a very hard man about money. And so--my sonhad recourse to a money-lender. "

Starmidge, who was sitting close by his fellow-detective, pressed hiselbow against Easleby's sleeve--at last they were getting at something. 

"Just so, ma'am, " he said encouragingly. "Nothing remarkable in all thisso far--quite an everyday matter, I assure you! Nothing for you todistress yourself about, either--all that can be kept quiet. "

"Well, " continued Mrs. Lester, "my son borrowed money from amoney-lender in London, expecting, of course, to pay it back on hisfather's death. I must tell you that my husband married very late inlife--he was quite thirty years my senior. No doubt this money-lenderacquainted himself with Mr. Lester's age--and state of health. "

"He would, ma'am, he would!" agreed Starmidge. 

"He'd take particular good care of that, ma'am, " added Easleby. "Theyalways do--in such cases. "

"Yes, " said Mrs. Lester, "but, you see, when my husband died, he did notleave Guy anything at all! He left everything to me. So Guy had nothingto pay the money-lender with. Then, of course, the money-lender began topress him, and in the end Guy was obliged to come and tell me all aboutit. That was only a few weeks ago. And it was very bad news, because theman claimed much--very much--more money than he had ever advanced. Hisdemands were outrageous!"

Starmidge gave Mrs. Lester a keen glance, and realized an idea of herinnocence in financial matters. 

"Ah!" he observed, "they are very grasping, ma'am, some of thesemoney-lenders! How much was this particular one asking of your son, now?"

"He demanded between fourteen and fifteen thousand pounds, " replied Mrs. Lester. "An abominable demand!--for my son assured me that at the veryoutside he had not had more than seven or eight thousand. "

"And--what happened, ma'am?" inquired Starmidge sympathetically. "Theman pestered you, of course!"

"Guy made him one or two offers, " answered Mrs. Lester. "Of course Iwould have made them good--to get rid of the affair. It was no use--hehad papers and things signed by Guy--who had borrowed all the moneysince he came of age--and he refused to abate a penny. The last timethat Guy called on him, he told him flatly that he would have hisfifteen thousand to the last shilling. It was, of course, extortion!"

Starmidge and Easleby exchanged looks. Both felt that they were on thevery edge of a discovery. 

"To be sure, ma'am, " asserted Starmidge. "Absolute extortion! And--whatis the name of the money-lending gentleman?"

"His name, " replied Mrs. Lester, "is Godwin Markham. "

"Did you ever see him, ma'am?" asked Starmidge. 

Mrs. Lester looked her astonishment. 

"I?" she exclaimed. "No--never!"

"Did your son ever describe him to you?--his personal appearance, Imean, " inquired Starmidge. 

Mrs. Lester shook her head. 

"No!" she replied. "Indeed, I have heard my son say that he never sawMarkham himself but once. He did his--business, I suppose you would callit--with the manager--who always said--when this recent pressingbegan--that he was powerless--he could only do what Mr. Markham bade himdo. "

"Precisely!" said Starmidge. "There generally is a manager whose chiefbusiness is to say that sort of thing, ma'am. Dear me!--and where, ma'am, is this Mr. Godwin Markham's office? You know that, no doubt?"

"Oh, yes--it is in Conduit Street--off New Bond Street, " replied Mrs. Lester. 

"Of course you never went there?" asked Starmidge. "No, of course not. All was done through your son, until you called in Mr. Hollis. Now, whendid you call in Mr. Hollis, Mrs. Lester?--the date's important. "

"About a fortnight ago, " replied Mrs. Lester--"I sent for him--I toldhim all about it--I asked his advice. At his suggestion I gave him acheque for ten thousand pounds. He said he would make an endeavour tosettle the whole thing for that amount, and have everything cleared up. He took the cheque away with him. "

"Between then--that day when he was here and you gave him the cheque, "asked Starmidge, "and last Saturday, when we know Mr. Hollis went toScarnham, did you hear of or from Mr. Hollis at all?"

"Only in this way, " replied Mrs. Lester. "When he left me, he said thatbefore approaching Markham, as intermediary, he should like to see Guy, and hear what his account of the transactions was, and that he would askmy son to come up to town from Maychester and meet him. I heard from Guyat the end of last week--last Saturday morning, as a matter offact--that he had been to town, that he had lunched with Mr. Hollis atMr. Hollis's club, and that after discussing the whole affair, Mr. Hollis said that he would make a determined effort to settle the matterat once. And after that, " concluded Mrs. Lester, "I heard no more oranything until I read of this Scarnham affair in the newspapers. "

"And now that you have read it, ma'am, and have heard what I have totell, " said Starmidge, "do you connect it in any way with Mr. GuyLester's affair?"

Mrs. Lester looked puzzled. She considered the detective's propositionin silence for a time. 

"No!" she answered at last. "Really, I don't!"

Starmidge got up, and Easleby followed his lead. 

"Well, ma'am, " said Starmidge, "there is a connection, without doubt, and I think that within a very short time we shall have discovered whatit is. What you have told us has been of great assistance--the verygreatest assistance. And you can make your mind easy for the present--Idon't see any reason for any unpleasant publicity just now--in fact, Ithink you'll find there won't be any. The unpleasant publicity, ma'am, "concluded Starmidge, with an almost imperceptible wink at Easleby, "willbe for--some other people. "

The two detectives bowed themselves out, re-entered their car, and weredriven on to Chesham. Neither had touched food since breakfast-time andeach was hungry. They discovered an old-fashioned hotel in the mainstreet of the little town, and were presently confronting a round ofcold beef, a cold ham, and two foaming tankards, in the snug parlourwhich they had to themselves. 

"One result of our profession, young Starmidge, " observed themiddle-aged Easleby, bending towards his companion over a well-filledplate, "is that it makes a man indulge in a tremendous lot of what youmight call intellectual speculation!"

"What are you speculating about?" asked Starmidge. 

"This--on information received, " replied Easleby, as he lifted histankard. "There are the names of three Scarnham gentlemen beforeme--Gabriel Chestermarke, Joseph Chestermarke, John Horbury. Now, then--which of the three sports the other name of Godwin Markham?"

CHAPTER XXII

SPECULATION--AND CERTAINTY

Starmidge ate and drank in silence for awhile, evidently pondering hiscompanion's question. 

"Yes, " he said at last, "there's all that in it. It may be any one ofthe three. You never know! Yet, according to all I've been told, Horbury's a thoroughly straight man of business. "

"According to all I've been told, " remarked Easleby, "and all I've beentold about anything has been told by yourself, the two Chestermarkeshave the reputation of being thoroughly straight men ofbusiness--outwardly. But one thing is certain, my lad, after what we'vejust learned--Hollis went down to Scarnham to offer that cheque to oneof these three men. And whichever it was, that man's Godwin Markham!It's a double-life business, Jack--the man's Godwin Markham here inLondon, and he's somebody else in--somewhere else. Dead certainty, mylad!"

"It's not Horbury, " said Starmidge, after some reflection. "I'll stakemy reputation, such as it is, on that!"

"You don't know, " replied Easleby. "Remember, Mrs. Lester said this sonof hers always did business with a manager. That's a usual thing withthese big money-lending offices--the real man doesn't show. For aughtyou know, Horbury may have been running a money-lender's office in town, unknown to anybody, under the name of Godwin Markham. And--he may havewanted new funds for it, and he may have collared those securities whichthe Chestermarkes say are missing, and he may have appropriated LordEllersdeane's jewels--d'ye see? You never can tell--in any of thesecases. You see, my lad, you've been going, all along, on the basis, thesupposition, that Horbury's an innocent man, and the victim of foulplay. But--he may be a guilty man! Lord bless you!--I don't attach anyimportance to reputation and character, not I! It isn't ten years sinceJim Chambers and myself had a case in point--a bank manager who waschurchwarden, Sunday-School teacher, this, that, and t'other in the wayof piety and respectability--all a cloak to cover as clever a bit ofthievery and fraud as ever I heard of!--he got ten years, that chap, andhe ought to have been hanged. As I say, you never can make certain. Hollis may have found out that Godwin Markham of Conduit Street was inreality John Horbury of Scarnham, and then----"

"I'll tell you what!" interrupted Starmidge, who had been thinking aswell as listening. "There's a very sure and certain way of finding outwho Godwin Markham is! Do you remember?--Mrs. Lester said her son hadonly seen him once. Well, once is enough!--he'd remember him. We must goto Maychester right away and see this young Lester, and get him todescribe the man he saw. "

"Good notion, of course, " assented Easleby. "Where is Maychester, now?"

"Essex, " replied Starmidge. 

"That would certainly be a solver, " said Easleby. "But there's somethingelse we could do, following up your special line of thought. Now, honourbright, which of these men do you take Godwin Markham to be?"

"Gabriel Chestermarke!" answered Starmidge promptly. "It's establishedthat he's constantly in London--as much in London as in Scarnham. Gabriel Chestermarke certainly--with, no doubt, Joseph in collusion. Theprobability is that they run that money-lending office in Conduit Streetunder the name of Godwin Markham. They're within the law. "

"What about the Moneylenders' Act?" asked Easleby. "Compulsoryregistration, you know. "

"It's this way, " explained Starmidge. "The object of that Act was toenable a borrower to know for certain who it was that was lending himthe money he borrowed. So registration was made compulsory. But, as inthe case of many another Act of Parliament, Easleby, evasion is not onlypossible, but easy. A money-lender can register in a name which isn'this own if it's one which he generally uses in his business. So--thereyou are! I've seen that name Godwin Markham advertised ever since I wasa youngster--it's an old established business, well known. There'snothing to prevent Abraham Moses from styling himself FitzwilliamSimpkins, if he's always done business as Fitzwilliam Simpkins--see?And--it's highly probable that, as he's so much in town, GabrielChestermarke lives in town under the name of Godwin Markham--double-lifebusiness, as you suggest. But you were going to suggest something else. What?"

"This, " said Easleby. "You know that Gabriel Chestermarke went tothe stage-door of the Adalbert Theatre the other night. Gothere--officially--and find out if he called there as GabrielChestermarke. That'll solve a lot. "

"We'll both go!" assented Starmidge. "It's a good notion--I hadn'tthought of it. Whom shall we try to see?"

"Top man of all, " counselled Easleby. "Lessee, manager, whatever he is. Our cards'll manage it. "

"I'm obliged to you, old man!" exclaimed Starmidge. "It's a bright idea!Of course, somebody there'll know who the man was that called lastnight--know his name, of course. And in that case----"

"Aye, but don't you anticipate too much, my lad!" interrupted Easleby. "There's no doubt that Gandam traced your Gabriel Chestermarke to thestage-door of the Adalbert Theatre--and lost him there. But, you know, for anything you know, Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke, banker, of Scarnham, may have had legitimate and proper business at that theatre. For aughtyou know, Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke may be owner of thattheatre--ground-landlord--part-proprietor--financier. He may have amortgage on it. All sorts of reasons occur to me as to why Mr. GabrielChestermarke may have called. He might be a personal friend of themanager's, or the principal actor's--called to take 'em out to supper, d'ye see, on his arrival in town. So--whoever we see there, you want togo guardedly, eh?"

"I'll tell you what, " said Starmidge, "I'll leave it to you. I'll gowith you, of course, but you manage it. "

"Right, my lad!" assented Easleby. "All I shall want'll be a copy ofthis morning's newspaper--to lead up from. "

One of the London morning journals had been making a great feature ofthe Scarnham affair from the moment Parkinson, on Starmidge'sinspiration, had supplied the Press with its details, and it had thatday printed an exhaustive résumé of the entire history of the case, brought up to the discovery of Frederick Hollis's body. Easleby bought acopy of this issue as soon as he and Starmidge returned to town, andcarefully blue-pencilled the cross-headed columns and the staringcapitals above them. With the folded paper in his hand, and Starmidge athis heel, he repaired to the stage-door of the Adalbert Theatre at aquarter to eight, when the actors and actresses were beginning to passin for their evening's work and thrust his head into the glass-frontedcage in which the stage door-keeper sat. 

"A word with you, mister, " whimpered Easleby. "A quiet word, youunderstand. Me and my friend here are from the Yard--New Scotland Yard, you know, and we've an inquiry to make. Our cards, d'ye see?--I shallask you to take 'em inside in a minute. But first, a word with you. Doyou remember a gentleman coming here last night, late, who nodded toyou and walked straight in? Little, stiffly built gentleman, very paleface, holds himself well up--what?"

"I know him, " answered the door-keeper, much impressed by the officialcards which Easleby held before his nose. "Seen him here many a time, but I don't know his name. He's a friend of Mr. Castlemayne's, and he'sthe entry, d'ye see--walks in as he likes. "

"Ah, just so--and who may Mr. Castlemayne be, now?" asked Easlebyconfidentially. 

"Mr. Castlemayne?" repeated the door-keeper. "Why, he's the lessee, ofcourse!--the boss!"

"Ah, the boss, is he?" said Easleby. "Much obliged to you, sir. Well, now, then, just take these two cards to Mr. Castlemayne, will you, andask him if he'll be good enough to see their owners for a few minutes onvery important private business?"

The door-keeper departed up a dark passage, and Easleby pointedStarmidge to a playbill which hung, framed on the wall, behind them. 

"There you are!" he said, indicating a line near the big capitals at thetop. "'Lessee and Manager--Mr. Leopold Castlemayne. ' That's our man. Fancy name, of course--real name Tom Smith, or Jim Johnson, you know. But, Lord bless you, what's in a name? Haven't we got a case in point?"

"There's a good deal in what's in a name in our case, old man!" retortedStarmidge. "You're off it there!"

Easleby was about to combat this reply when a boy appeared, andintimated that Mr. Castlemayne would see the gentlemen at once. And thetwo detectives followed up one passage and down another, and roundcorners and across saloons and foyers, until they were shown into a snugroom, half office, half parlour, very comfortably furnished andornamented, wherein, at a desk, and alone, sat a gentleman in eveningdress, whose countenance, well-fed though it was, seemed to be just thenclouded with suspicion and something that looked very like anxiety. Heglanced up from the cards which lay before him to the two men who hadsent them in, and silently pointed them to chairs near his own. 

"Good-evening, sir, " said Easleby, with a polite bow. "Sorry tointerrupt you, Mr. Castlemayne, but you see our business from our cards, and we've called, sir, to ask if you can give us a bit of much-wantedinformation. I don't know, sir, " continued Easleby, laying theblue-pencilled newspaper on the lessee's desk, "if you've read in thepapers any account of the affair which is here called the ScarnhamMystery!"

Mr. Leopold Castlemayne glanced at the columns to which Easleby pointed, rubbed his chin, and nodded. 

"Yes--yes!" he said. "I have just seen the papers. Case of a strangedisappearance--bank manager--isn't it?"

"It's more than that, sir, " replied Easleby. "It's a case of--all sortsof things. Now you're wondering, Mr. Castlemayne, why we come to you?I'll explain. You'll see there, sir, the name--blue-pencilled--GabrielChestermarke. Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke is a banker at Scarnham. Youdon't happen to know him, Mr. Castlemayne?"

The two detectives watched the lessee narrowly as that question was put. And each knew instantly that the prompt reply was a truthful one. 

"Never heard of him in my life, " said Mr. Castlemayne. 

"Thank you, sir, " said Easleby. "Just so! Well, sir, my friendhere--Detective-Sergeant Starmidge--has been down at Scarnham in chargeof this case from the first, and he's formed some ideas about this Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke. Last night Gabriel Chestermarke travelled up totown from Ecclesborough--Mr. Starmidge arranged for him to be shadowedwhen he arrived at St. Pancras. A man of ours--not quite as experiencedas he might be, you understand, sir--did shadow him--and lost him. Helost him here at your theatre, Mr. Castlemayne. "

"Ah!" said the lessee, half indifferently. "Got amongst the audience, Isuppose?"

"No, sir, " replied Easleby. "Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke, sir, entered yourstage-door at about eleven-thirty--walked straight in. But he never cameout of that door--so he must have left by another exit. "

Mr. Leopold Castlemayne suddenly sat up very erect and rigid. His faceflushed a little, his lips parted; he looked from one man to the other. 

"Mr. --Gabriel--Chestermarke!" he said. "Entered mystage-door--eleven-thirty--last night? Here!--describe him!"

Easleby glanced at Starmidge. And Starmidge, as if he were describing apicture, gave a full and accurate account of Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke'sappearance from head to foot. 

The lessee suddenly jumped from his chair, walked over to a door, openedit, and looked into an inner room. Evidently satisfied, he closed thedoor again, came back, seated himself, thrust his hands in his pockets, and looked at the detectives. 

"All in confidence--strict confidence?" he said. "All right, then!--Iunderstand. I tell you, I don't know any Gabriel Chestermarke, banker, of Scarnham! The man you've described--the man who came here lastnight--is Godwin Markham, the Conduit Street money-lender--damn him!"

CHAPTER XXIII

THE AGGRIEVED VICTIM

If Mr. Leopold Castlemayne's last word was expressive, his next actionswere suggestive and significant. Returning to the door of the innerroom, he turned the key in it; crossing to the door by which thedetectives had been shown in, he locked that also; proceeding to acupboard in an adjacent recess, he performed an unlocking process--afterwhich he produced a decanter, a syphon, three glasses, and a box ofcigars. He silently placed these luxuries on a desk before his visitors, and hospitably invited their attention. 

"Yes!" he said presently, proceeding to help the two men to refreshment, and pressing the cigars upon them, "I've good reason to say that, gentlemen! Godwin Markham, indeed! I ought to know him! If I don't lookout, that devil of a bloodsucker is going to ruin me--he is, so!"

Easleby gave Starmidge an almost imperceptible wink as he lighted acigar. It was evident that Mr. Leopold Castlemayne was not only willingto talk, but was uncommonly glad to have somebody to talk to. Indeed, his moody countenance began to clear as his tongue became unloosed; hewas obviously at that stage when a man is thankful to give confidencesto any fellow-creature. 

"I've done business with gentlemen of your profession before, " he wenton, nodding to his visitors over the rim of his tumbler, "and I knowyou're to be trusted--naturally, you hear a good many queer things andqueer secrets in your line of life. And as you come to me in confidence, I'll tell you a thing or two in confidence. It may help you--if you'recertain that the man you're wanting is the man who came here last night. Do you want him?"

"We--may do, " replied Easleby. "We don't know yet. Mr. Starmidge here ismuch disposed to think that we shall. But let's be clear, sir. We're allthree agreed that we're talking about the same man? Starmidge hasaccurately described a certain man who without doubt entered yourstage-door about eleven-thirty last night----"

"And left, with me, by the box-office door, in the front street, a fewminutes later, " murmured the lessee. "That's how it was. "

"Just so, " agreed Easleby. "Now, Starmidge up to now has only known thatman as Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke, senior partner in Chestermarke's Bank, at Scarnham, while you, up to now----"

"Have only known him as Godwin Markham, money-lender, financial agent, and so on, of Conduit Street, " interrupted Castlemayne. "And known him alot too much for my peace, I can tell you! Of course, we're talking ofthe same man! I can quite believe he runs a double show. I know thathe's a great deal away from town. It's very rarely that he's to befound at Conduit Street--very, very rarely indeed--he's a clever managerthere, who sees everybody and does everything. And I know that he'squite two-thirds of his time away from his own house--so, of course, he's got to put it in somewhere else. "

"His own house!" said Starmidge, catching at an idea which presenteditself. "You know where he lives in London, then, Mr. Castlemayne?"

"Do I know where my own mother lives!" exclaimed the lessee. "I shouldthink I do! He's a neighbour of mine--lives close by me, up PrimroseHill way. Nice little bachelor establishment he has--Oakfield Villa. Spent many an evening there with him--Sunday evenings, of course. Oh, yes--I know all about him--as Godwin Markham. Bless me!--so he's acountry banker, is he? And mixed up in this affair, eh? Gosh!--I hopeyou'll find out that he murdered his manager, and that you'll be able tohang him--I'd treat the town to a free show if you could hang him inpublic on my stage, I would, indeed!"

"You were going to tell us something, sir?" suggested Easleby. "Something that you thought might help us. "

"I hope it will help you--and me, too!" responded Castlemayne, who wasobviously incensed and truculent. "'Pon my honour, when I got yourcards, I wondered if I'd been sleep-walking last night, and had gone anddone for this man--I really did! It was all I could do to keep frompunching his nose last night in the open street, and I left him feelingvery bad indeed! It's this way--I dare say you know that men like me, in this business, want a bit of financing when we start. All right!--wedo, like most other people. Now, when I thought of taking up the leaseof this spot, a few years ago, I wanted money. I knew this man Markhamas a neighbour, and I mentioned the matter to him, not knowing then hewas the Markham of Conduit Street. He let me know who he was, then, andhe offered to do things privately--no need to go to his office, do yousee? And--he found me in necessary capital. And I dare say I signedpapers without thoroughly understanding 'em. And, of course, when youget into the hands of a fellow like that, it's like putting your foot ona piece of butter in the street--you're down before you know what'shappened! But I ain't down yet, my boys!" concluded Mr. Castlemayne, drinking off the contents of his glass, and replenishing it. "And dammeif I'm going to be, without a bit of a fight for it, that I ain't!"

"Putting some pressure on you, I suppose, sir?" suggested Easleby, whoknew that their host would tell anything and everything if left tohimself. "Wants his pound of flesh, no doubt?"

This Shakespearean allusion appeared to be lost on the lessee, but heevidently understood what pressure meant. 

"Pressure!" he exclaimed. "Yah!--there's nothing would suit that fellowbetter than to have one of his victims under one of those steam-hammersthat they have nowadays, and to bring it down on him till he'd crushedthe last drop of blood out of his toes! Pressure!--I'll tell you! Thisplace didn't do well at first--everybody in town, in our line, anyway, knows that--but even in these days I paid him his interest regular--downon the nail, mind, as prompt as the date came round. But now--things aredifferent. I'm doing well--in a bit I could pay my gentleman off--thoughnot just yet. But there's big money ahead--this house has caught on, gota reputation, become popular. And now what d'ye think my lordwants--what he's screwing me for? Turns out that in one of thoseconfounded papers I signed there's a clause, that if I didn't repay himby a certain date I should surrender my lease to him! I no doubt signedit, not quite understanding--but damme if he didn't keep it dark tillthe date was expired! And now, when I've worked things up, not only aslessee, mind you, but as manager--to success and big prospects, hangedif he doesn't want to collar my lease with all its fine possibilities, and put me into work for him at a blooming salary!"

"Dear me, sir!" exclaimed Easleby. "Now--what might that exactly mean?We're not up in these matters, you know. "

"Mean?" vociferated the lessee. "It 'ud mean this. I've paid that man asmuch in interest as the original loan was. He now wants my lease, all myinterest, all my chances of reward--this lease is worth many a thousanda year now! If I surrender my lease peaceably--without fuss, youunderstand--he'll wipe off my original debt to him and give me ablooming salary of twenty-five quid a week--me! Gosh!--he ought to beburnt alive!"

"And if you don't?" asked Starmidge, deeply interested by thissidelight on financial dealings. "What then?"

"Then he relies on his damn paper and my signature to it, and turns meout!" replied the aggrieved one. "Thievery!--that's what I call it. That's his blooming ultimatum--came in last night to tell me. I hopeyou'll catch him and hang him!"

The two detectives had long since realized that Mr. LeopoldCastlemayne's interest in the banker-money-lender was a purely personalone, based on his own unlucky dealings with him. But they wished forsomething outside that interest, and Starmidge, after a word or two ofcondolence, and another of advice to go to a shrewd and smart solicitor, asked a plain question. 

"You say you've been on terms of--shall we call it neighbourlyintimacy?--with this man, " he remarked. "Have you ever met his nephew?"

The lessee made a face expressive of deep scorn. 

"Nephew!" he exclaimed. "Yah!--d'ye think a fellow like that 'ud have anephew? I don't believe he's any relations that's flesh and blood! Idon't believe he ever had a mother! I believe he's one of these ghoulsyou read about in the story-books--what's he look like? Abloodsucker!--that's what he is!"

Starmidge gave his host an accurate description of Joseph Chestermarke. 

"Did you ever see a man like that at this Markham's house?" he asked. 

"Never!" answered the lessee. 

"Or at his office?" persisted Starmidge. 

"No--don't know such a man! I've only been to the offices in ConduitStreet a few times, " said Castlemayne. "The chap you see there is afellow called Stipp--Mr. James Stipp. A nice, smooth-tongued, mealy-mouthed chap--you know. I say--d'ye think you'll be able to fastenanything on to Markham, or Chestermarke, or whatever his name is?"

Easleby responded jocularly that they certainly wouldn't if they satthere, and after solemnly assuring Mr. Leopold Castlemayne that hisconfidence would be severely respected, he and Starmidge went away. Onceoutside they walked for awhile in silence, each reflecting on what hehad just heard. 

"Well, " remarked Starmidge at last, "we're certain on one point now, anyway. Godwin Markham, money-lender, of Conduit Street, is the sameperson as Gabriel Chestermarke, banker, of Scarnham. That's flat! Andnow that we've got to know that much, how much nearer am I to findingout the real thing that I'm after?"

"Which is--exactly what?" asked Easleby. 

"I was called in, " answered Starmidge, "to find out the secret of JohnHorbury's disappearance. It isn't my business to interfere with GabrielChestermarke or Godwin Markham in his money-lending affairs--nor totrace Lord Ellersdeane's missing jewels. My job is--to find JohnHorbury, or to get to know what happened to him. "

"And all this helps, " answered Easleby. "Haven't you got anything?"

"Don't know that I have, " admitted Starmidge. "Just now, anyway. I'vehad a dozen ideas--but they're a bit mixed at present. Have you--afterwhat we've found out?"

"What sort of banking business is it the Chestermarkes carry on downthere at Scarnham?" asked Easleby. "I suppose you'd get a general idea. "

"Usual thing in a small country town, " replied Starmidge. "Highlyrespectable, county family business, I should say, from what I saw andheard. "

"All the squires, and the parsons, and the farmers, and better sort oftradesmen go to 'em, I suppose?" suggested Easleby. "And all the niceold ladies and that sort--an extra-respectable connection, eh?"

"Just as I say--regular country-town business, " said Starmidge, halfimpatiently. 

"Um!" remarked Easleby. "Now, if you were a highly respectablecountry-town banker, with a connection of that sort amongst very properpeople, and if it so happened that you were living a double life, andrunning a money-lending business in London, do you think you'd want yourbanking customers to know what you were after when you weren't banking!"

"What do you think he'd do?" asked Starmidge. 

"I'm not quite sure, " replied Easleby, with candour. "But I think Ishall get there, all the same. Now, didn't you say that from all theaccounts supplied to you, this Mr. John Horbury was an eminently propersort of person? Very well--supposing it suddenly came to his knowledgethat his employer--or employers, for I expect both Chestermarkes are inat it--were notorious money-lenders in London, and that they carried onthis secret business in the greedy and grasping fashion--what do yousuppose he'd do?--especially if he was, as you say Horbury was, a man ofconsiderable means?"

"What do you think he'd do?" asked Starmidge. 

"I think it's quite on the cards that he'd chuck his job there andthen, " said Easleby, "and not only that, but that he'd probably threatenexposure. Men of a very severe type of commercial religion would, mylad!--I know 'em!"

"You're suggesting--what?" inquired the younger detective. 

"I'm suggesting that on that night of Hollis's visit to Scarnham, Horbury, through Hollis, became acquainted with the Chestermarkesecret, " replied Easleby, "and that he let the Chestermarkes know it. And in that case--what would happen?"

Starmidge walked slowly on at his companion's side, thinking. He wastrying to fit together a great many things; he felt as a child feels whois presented with a puzzle in many pieces and told to put them together. 

"I know what you're after, " he said suddenly. "You think theChestermarkes murdered Horbury?"

"If you want it plain and straight, " replied Easleby, "I do!"

"There's the other man--Hollis, " suggested Starmidge. 

"I should say they finished him as well, " said Easleby. "Easy enoughjob, that, on the evidence. Supposing one of 'em took Hollis off, alone, across that moor you've told me about, and induced him to look into thatold lead-mine? What easier than to push him into it? Meanwhile, theother could settle Horbury. Murder, my lad!--that's what all this comesto. I've known men murdered for less than that. "

Again Starmidge reflected in silence. 

"There's only one thing puzzles me on that point, " he said eventually. "It's not a puzzle, either--it's a doubt. Do you think theChestermarkes--or, we'll say Gabriel, as we're certain about him--do youthink Gabriel would be so keen about keeping his secret as to go to thatlength? Do you think he's cultivated it as a secret--that it's been areally important secret?"

"We can soon solve that, " answered Easleby. "At least--tomorrowmorning. "

"How?" demanded Starmidge. 

"By calling, " said Easleby, "on Mr. Godwin Markham, in Conduit Street. "

CHAPTER XXIV

MRS. CARSWELL?

Starmidge looked at his companion as if in doubt about Easleby's exactmeaning. 

"According to what the theatre chap said just now, " he remarked, "Markham is very rarely to be found in Conduit Street. "

"Exactly, " agreed Easleby. "That's why I want to go there. "

Starmidge shook his head. 

"Don't follow!" he said. "Make it clear. "

Easleby tapped his fellow-detective's arm. 

"You said just now--would Gabriel Chestermarke be so keen about keepinghis secret as to go to any length in keeping it, " he answered "Now I saywe can solve that by calling at his office. His manager, as Castlemaynetold us, is one Stipp--Mr. Stipp. I propose to see Mr. Stipp. You and Imust be fools if, inside ten minutes, we can't find out if Stipp knowsthat Godwin Markham is Gabriel Chestermarke! We will find out! And if wefind out that Stipp doesn't know that, if we find that Stipp is utterlyunaware that there is such a person as Gabriel Chestermarke, or, at anyrate, that he doesn't connect Gabriel Chestermarke with GodwinMarkham--why, then----"

He ended with a dry laugh, and waved his hand as if the matter weresettled. But Starmidge had a love of precision, and liked matters to beput in plain words. 

"Well--and what then?" he demanded. 

"What, then?" exclaimed Easleby. "Why, then we shall know, for acertainty, that Gabriel Chestermarke is keen about his secret! If hekeeps it from the man who does his business for him here in London, he'dgo to any length to keep it safe if it was threatened by his manager atScarnham. Is that clear, my lad?"

The two men in the course of their slow strolling away from the AdalbertTheatre had come to the end of Shaftesbury Avenue, and had drawn asidefrom the crowds during the last minute or two to exchange theirconfidences in private. 

Starmidge looked meditatively at the thronging multitudes of PiccadillyCircus, and watched them awhile before he answered his companion's lastobservation. 

"I don't want to precipitate matters, " he said at last. "I don't want ananti-climax. Suppose we found Markham--or Chestermarke--there? Orsupposing he came in?"

"Excellent!--in either case, " replied Easleby. "Serve our purpose equallywell. If he's there, you betray the greatest surprise at seeing him--youcan act up to that. If he should come in, you're equally surprised--see!We haven't gone there about any Chestermarke, you know--we aren't goingto let it out there that we know what we do know--not likely!"

"What have we gone there for then?" asked Starmidge. 

"We've gone to say that Mrs. Helen Lester, of Lowdale Court, nearChesham, has informed us, the police, that she placed a certain sum ofmoney in the hands of her friend, Mr. Frederick Hollis, for the purposeof clearing off a debt contracted by her son, Lieutenant Lester, withMr. Godwin Markham; that Mr. Hollis had been found dead under strangecircumstances at Scarnham, and that we should be vastly obliged to Mr. Markham if he can give us any information or light on the matter, orhints about it, " replied Easleby. "That, of course, is what we shallsay--and all that we shall say--to Mr. James Stipp. If, however, we findGabriel Chestermarke there--well, then, we shall say nothing--at first. We shall leave him to do the saying--it'll be his job to begin. "

"All right, " assented Starmidge, after a moment's reflection. "We'll tryit! Meet you tomorrow morning, then--corner of Conduit Street and NewBond Street--say at ten-thirty. Now I'm going home. "

Starmidge, being a bachelor, tenanted a small flat in Westminster, within easy reach of headquarters. He repaired to it immediately onleaving Easleby, intent on spending a couple of hours in ease andcomfort before retiring to bed. But he had scarcely put on his slippers, lighted his pipe, mixed a whisky-and-soda, and picked up a book, when aknock at his outer door sent him to open it and to find Gandam standingin the lobby. Gandam glanced at him with a smile which was halfapologetic and half triumphant. 

"I've been to the office after you, Mr. Starmidge, " he said. "They gaveme your address, so I came on here. "

Starmidge saw that the man was full of news, and he motioned him toenter and led him to his sitting-room. 

"You've heard something, then?" he asked. 

"Seen something, Mr. Starmidge, " answered Gandam, taking the chair whichStarmidge pointed to. "I'm afraid I didn't hear anything--I wish I had!"

Starmidge gave his visitor a drink and dropped into his own easy-chairagain. 

"Chestermarke, of course!" he suggested. "Well--what!"

"I happened to catch sight of him this evening, " replied Gandam. "Sheeraccident it was--but there's no mistaking him. Half-past six I wascoming along Piccadilly, and I saw him leaving the Camellia Club. He----"

"What sort of a club's that, now?" asked Starmidge. 

"Social club--men about town, sporting men, actors, journalists, so on, "replied Gandam. "I know a bit about it--had a case relating to it not solong ago. Well--he went along Piccadilly, and, of course, I followedhim--I wasn't going to lose sight of him after that set-back of lastnight, Mr. Starmidge! He crossed the Circus, and went into the CaféMonico. I followed him in there. Do you know that downstairs saloonthere?"

"I know it, " assented Starmidge. 

"He went straight down to it, " continued Gandam. "And as I knew that hedidn't know me, I presently followed. When I'd got down he'd taken aseat at a table in a quiet corner, and the waiter was bringing him aglass of sherry. There was a bit of talk between 'em--Chestermarkeseemed to be telling the waiter that he was expecting somebody, and he'dwait a bit before giving an order. So I sat down--in another corner--andas I judged it was going to be a longish job, I ordered a bit of dinner. Of course I kept an eye on him--quietly. He read a newspaper, smoked acigarette, and sipped his sherry. And at last--perhaps ten minutes afterhe'd got in--a woman came down the stairs, looked round, and wentstraight over to where he was sitting. "

"Describe her, " said Starmidge. 

"Tallish, very good figure, very good-looking, well-dressed, butquietly, " replied Gandam. "Had a veil on when she came in, but lifted itwhen she sat down by Chestermarke. What I should call a handsome woman, Mr. Starmidge--and, I should say, about thirty-five to forty. Dark hair, dark eyes--taking expression. "

"Mrs. Carswell, for a fiver!" thought Starmidge. "Well?" he said aloud. "You say she went straight over to him?"

"Straight to him--and began talking at once, " answered Gandam. "Itseemed to me that it was what you might call an adjourned meeting--theybegan talking as if they were sort of taking up a conversation. But shedid most of the talking. He ordered some dinner for both of 'em as soonas she came--she talked while they ate. Of course, being right acrossthe room from them, I couldn't catch a word that was said, but sheseemed to be explaining something to him the whole time, and I could seehe was surprised--more than once. "

"It must have been something uncommonly surprising to make him showsigns of surprise!" muttered Starmidge, who had a vivid recollection ofGabriel Chestermarke's granite countenance. "Yes?--go on. "

"They were there about three-quarters of an hour, " continued Gandam. "Ofcourse, I ate my dinner while they ate theirs, and I took good care notto let them see that I was watching them. As soon as I saw signs of amove on their part--when she began putting on her gloves--I paid mywaiter and slipped out upstairs to the front entrance. I got a taxi-cabdriver to pull up by the kerb and wait for me, and told him who I wasand what I was after, and that if those two got into a cab he was tofollow wherever they went--cautiously. Gave him a description of theman, you know. Then I hung round till they came out. They parted atonce--she went off up Regent Street----"

"I wish you'd had another man with you!" exclaimed Starmidge. "I'd givea lot to get hold of that woman. She's probably the housekeeper whodisappeared from the bank, you know. "

"So I guessed, Mr. Starmidge, but what could I do?" said Gandam. "Icouldn't follow both, and it was the man you'd put me on to. I decided, of course, for him. Well--he tried to get my cab; when he found it wasengaged, he walked on a bit to the corner of Shaftesbury Avenue and gotone there. And, of course, we followed. A longish follow, too!--rightaway up to the back of Regent's Park. You know those detachedhouses--foot of Primrose Hill? It's one of those--he was a cute chap, mydriver, and he contrived to slow down and keep well behind, and yet tosee where Chestermarke got out. The name of the house is OakfieldVilla--it's on the gateposts. Of course, I made sure. I sent my manoff--and then I hung round some time, passing and re-passing once ortwice. And I saw Chestermarke in a front room--the blinds were notdrawn--and he was in a smoking-cap and jacket, so I reckoned he was safefor the night. But I can watch the house all night if you think it'snecessary, you know, Mr. Starmidge. "

"No!" answered Starmidge. "Not at all. But I'll tell you what--you beabout there first thing tomorrow morning. Can you hang about withoutattracting attention?"

"Easily!" replied Gandam. "Easiest thing in the world. Do you know wherea little lodge stands, as you go into Primrose Hill, the St. John's Woodside? Well, his house is close by that. On the other side of the roadthere's a little path leading over a bridge into the Park--close by thecorner of the Zoo--I can watch from that path. You can rely on me, Mr. Starmidge. I'll not lose sight of him this time. "

Starmidge saw that the man was deeply anxious to atone for his mistakeof the previous night, and he nodded assent. 

"All right, " he said, "but--take another man with you. Two are betterthan one in a job like that--and Chestermarke might be meeting thatwoman again. Watch the house carefully tomorrow morning from firstthing--follow him wherever he goes. If he should meet the woman, andthey part after meeting, one of you follow her. And listen--I shall beat headquarters at twelve o'clock tomorrow. Contrive to telephone methere as to what you're doing. But--don't lose him--or her, if you seeher again. "

"One thing more, " said Gandam, as he rose to go. "Supposing he goes offby train? Do I follow?"

"No, " answered Starmidge after a moment's reflection, "but manage tofind out where he goes. "

He sat and thought a long time after his visitor had left, and histhoughts all centred on one fact: the undoubted fact that GabrielChestermarke and Mrs. Carswell had met. 

CHAPTER XXV

THE PORTRAIT

The offices of Mr. Godwin Markham, at which the two detectives presentedthemselves soon after half-past ten next morning, were by no meansextensive in size or palatial in appearance. They were situated in thesecond floor of a building in Conduit Street, and apparently consistedof no more than two rooms, which, if not exactly shabby, were somewhatwell-worn as to furniture and fittings. It was evident, too, that Mr. Godwin Markham's clerical staff was not extensive. There was a young manclerk, and a young woman clerk in the outer office: the first wasturning over a pile of circulars at the counter; the second, seated at atypewriter, was taking down a letter which was being dictated to her bya man who, still hatted and overcoated, had evidently just arrived, andwas leaning against the mantelpiece with his hands in his pockets. Hewas a very ordinary, plain-countenanced, sandy-haired, quitecommercial-looking man, this, who might have been anything from a StockExchange clerk to a suburban house-agent. But there was a suddenalertness in his eye as he turned it on the visitors, which showed themthat he was well equipped in mental acuteness, and probably as alert ashis features were commonplace. 

The circular-sorting young man looked up with indifference as Easlebyapproached the counter, and when the detective asked if Mr. GodwinMarkham could be seen, turned silently and interrogatively to the manwho leaned against the mantelpiece. He, interrupting his dictation, cameforward again, narrowly but continually eyeing the two men. 

"Mr. Markham is not in town, gentlemen, " he said, in a quick, business-like fashion, which convinced Starmidge that the speaker wasnot uttering any mere excuse. "He was here yesterday for an hour or two, but he will be away for some days now. Can I do anything for you?--hismanager. "

Easleby handed over the two professional cards which he had inreadiness, and leaned across the counter. 

"A word or two in private, " he whispered confidentially. "Businessmatter. "

Starmidge, watching Mr. James Stipp's face closely as he looked at thecards, saw that he was not the sort of man to be taken unawares. Therewas not the faintest flicker of an eyelid, not a motion of the lips, notthe tiniest start of surprise, no show of unusual interest on themanager's part: he nodded, opened a door in the counter, and waved thetwo detectives towards the inner room. 

"Be seated, gentlemen, " he said, following them inside. "You'll excuseme a minute--important letter to get off--I won't keep you long. "

He closed the door upon them and Starmidge and Easleby glanced roundbefore taking the chairs to which Mr. Stipp had pointed. There waslittle to see. A big, roomy desk, middle-Victorian in style, some heavymiddle-Victorian chairs, a well-worn carpet and rug, a book-case filledwith peerages, baronetages, county directories, Army lists, Navy lists, and other similar volumes of reference to high life, a map or two on thewalls, a heavy safe in a corner--these things were all there was to lookat. Except one thing--which Starmidge was quick to see. Over themantelpiece, with an almanac on one side of it, and an interest-table onthe other, hung a somewhat faded photograph of Gabriel Chestermarke. 

The younger detective tapped his companion's arm and silently indicatedthis grim counterfeit of the man in whose doings they were so keenlyinterested just then. 

"That's--the man!" he whispered. "Chestermarke! Gabriel!"

Easleby opened mouth and eyes and stared with eager interest. 

"Egad!" he muttered. "That's lucky! Makes it all the easier. I'll layyou anything you like, my lad, this manager doesn't know anything--not athing!--about the double identity business. We shall soon findout--leave it to me--at first, anyway. A few plain questions----"

Mr. Stipp came bustling in, closing the door behind him. He took offovercoat and hat, ran his fingers through his light hair, and, seatinghimself, glanced smilingly at his visitors. 

"Well, gentlemen!" he demanded. "What can I do for you now? Want to makesome inquiries?"

"Just a few small inquiries, sir, " replied Easleby. "I haven't thepleasure of knowing your name--Mr. ----?"

"Stipp's my name, sir, " answered the manager promptly. "Stipp--JamesStipp. "

"Thank you, sir, " said Easleby, with great politeness. "Well, Mr. Stipp, you see from our cards who we are. We've called on you--as representingMr. Godwin Markham--on behalf--informally, Mr. Stipp--of Mrs. Lester, ofLowdale Court, Chesham. "

Mr. Stipp's face showed a little surprise at this announcement, and heglanced from one man to the other as if he were puzzled. 

"Oh!" he said. "Dear me! Why--what has Mrs. Lester called you in for?"

Easleby, who had brought another marked newspaper with him, laid it onthe manager's desk. 

"You've no doubt read of this Scarnham affair, Mr. Stipp?" he asked, pointing to his own blue pencillings. "Most people have, I think. Orperhaps it's escaped your notice. "

"Hardly could!" answered Mr. Stipp, with a friendly smile. "Yes--I'veread it. Most extraordinary! One of the most puzzling cases I ever didread. Are you in at it? But this call hasn't anything to do with that, surely? If it has--what?"

"This much, " answered Easleby. "Mrs. Lester has told us, of course, thather son, the young officer, is in debt to your governor. Well, lastweek, Mrs. Lester handed a certain sum of money to the Mr. FrederickHollis who's been found dead at Scarnham, to be applied to thesettlement of her son's liability in that respect. "

Mr. Stipp showed undoubted surprise at this announcement. 

"She did!" he exclaimed. "Gave Mr. Hollis money--for that? Why!--Mr. Hollis never told me of it!"

In the course of a long professional experience Easleby had learned tocontrol his facial expression; Starmidge was gradually progressingtowards perfection in that art. But each man was hard put to it to checkan expression of astonishment. And Easleby showed some slight sign ofperplexity when he replied. 

"Mr. Hollis has--called on you, then?" he said. 

"Hollis was here last Friday afternoon, " answered Mr. Stipp. "Called onme at five o'clock--just before I was leaving for the day. He neveroffered me any money! Glad if he had--it's time young Lester paid up. "

"What did Hollis come for, then, if that's a fair question?" askedEasleby. 

"He came, I should say, to take a look at us, and find out who he'd gotto deal with, " replied the manager, smiling. "In plain language, to makean inquiry or two. He told me he'd been empowered by Mrs. Lester to dealwith us, and he wanted the particulars of what we'd advanced to her son, and he got them--from me. But he never made me any offer. He just foundout what he wanted to know--and went away. "

"And, evidently, next day travelled to Scarnham, " observed Easleby. "Now, Mr. Stipp, have you any idea whether his visit to Scarnham was inconnection with the money affair of yours and young Lester's?"

Again the look of undoubted surprise; again the appearance of genuineperplexity. 

"I?" exclaimed Mr. Stipp. "Not the least! Not the ghost of an idea! Whatcould his visit to Scarnham have to do with us? Nothing!--that I knowof, anyway. "

"You don't think it rather remarkable that Mr. Hollis should go downthere the very day after he called on you?" asked Starmidge, putting ina question for the first time. 

"Why should I?" asked Mr. Stipp. "What do I know about him and hisarrangements? He never mentioned Scarnham to me. "

Easleby laid a finger on the marked newspaper. 

"You see some names of Scarnham people there, Mr. Stipp?" he observed. "Those names--Horbury--Chestermarke. You don't happen to know 'em?"

"I don't know them, " replied the manager, with obvious sincerity. "Banking people, all of them, aren't they? I might have heard theirnames, in a business way, some time--but I don't recall them at all. "

"You said that Mr. Markham was here yesterday, " suggested Starmidge. "Did you tell him--you'll excuse my asking, but it's important--did youtell him that Hollis had called last Friday on behalf of Mrs. Lester?"

"I just mentioned it, " replied Mr. Stipp. "He took no particularnotice--except to say that what we claim from young Lester will have tobe--paid. "

"You don't know if he knew Hollis?" inquired Starmidge. 

The manager shook his head in a fashion which seemed to indicate thatHollis's case was no particular business of either his or hisprincipal's. 

"I don't think he did, " he answered. "Never said so, anyhow. But, I say!you'll excuse me, now--what is it you're trying to get at? Do you thinkHollis went to Scarnham on this business of young Lester's? And if youdo, why?"

Easleby rose, and Starmidge followed his example. 

"We don't know yet--exactly--why Hollis went to Scarnham, " said theelder detective. "We hoped you could help us. But, as you can't--well, we're much obliged, Mr. Stipp. That your governor over the chimney-piecethere?"

"Taken a few years ago, " replied Mr. Stipp carelessly. "I say--you don'tknow what Hollis was empowered to offer us, do you?"

The two detectives looked at each other; a quiet nod from Starmidgeindicated that he left it to Easleby to answer this question. And aftera moment's reflection, Easleby spoke. 

"Mr. Hollis was empowered to offer ten thousand pounds in fullsatisfaction, Mr. Stipp, " he said. "And what's more--a cheque for thatamount was found on his dead body when it was discovered. Now, sir, you'll understand why we want to know who it was that he went to see atScarnham!"

Both men were watching the money-lender's manager with redoubledattention. But it needed no very keen eye to see that the surprise whichMr. Stipp had already shown at various stages of the interview wasnothing to that which he now felt. And in the midst of his astonishmentthe two detectives bade him good-day and left him, disregarding anentreaty to stop and tell him more. 

"My lad!" said Easleby, when he and Starmidge were out in the streetagain, "that chap has no more conception that his master is GabrielChestermarke than we had--twenty-four hours since--that GabrielChestermarke and Godwin Markham are one and the same man. He's a cleverchap, this Gabriel--and now you can see how important it's been for himto keep his secret. What's next to be done? We ought to keep in touchwith him from now. "

"I'm expecting word from Gandam at noon at headquarters, " answeredStarmidge, who had already told Easleby of the visit of the previousnight. "Let's ride down there and hear if any message has come in. "

But as their taxi-cab turned out of Whitehall into New Scotland Yardthey overtook Gandam, hurrying along. Starmidge stopped the cab andjumped out. 

"Any news?" he asked sharply. 

"He's off, Mr. Starmidge!" replied Gandam. "I've just come straight fromwatching him away. He left his house about nine-twenty, walked to theSt. John's Wood Station, went down to Baker Street, and on to King'sCross Metropolitan. We followed him, of course. He walked across to St. Pancras, and left by the ten-thirty express. "

"Did you manage to find out where he booked for!" demanded Starmidge. 

"Ecclesborough, " answered Gandam. "Heard him! I was close behind. "

"He was alone, I suppose?" asked Starmidge. 

"Alone all the time, Mr. Starmidge, " assented Gandam. "Never saw a signof the other party. "

Starmidge rejoined Easleby. For the last twenty-four hours he had lethis companion supervise matters, but now, having decided on a certainpolicy, he took affairs into his own hands. 

"Now, then, " he said, "he's off--back to Scarnham. A word or two at theoffice, Easleby, and I'm after him. And you'll come with me. "

CHAPTER XXVI

THE LIGHTNING FLASH

At half-past seven that evening Starmidge and Easleby stepped out of aLondon express at Ecclesborough, and walked out to the front of thestation to get a taxi-cab for Scarnham. The newsboys were rushing acrossthe station square with the latest editions of the evening papers, andStarmidge's quick ear caught the meaning of their unfamiliarNorth-country shoutings. 

"Latest about the Scarnham mystery, " he said, stopping a lad and takinga couple of papers from him. "Something about the adjourned inquest--ofcourse that would be today. Now then--what's this?"

He drew aside to a quiet corner of the station portico, and with hiscompanion looking over his shoulder, read aloud a passage from thelatest of the two papers. 

"'An important witness gave evidence this afternoon at the adjournedinquest held at Scarnham on the body of Mr. Frederick Hollis, solicitor, of London, who was recently found lying dead at the bottom of one of theold lead-mines in Ellersdeane Hollow. It will be remembered that thecircumstances of this discovery--already familiar to ourreaders--allied with the mysterious disappearance of Mr. John Horbury, and the presumed theft of the Countess of Ellersdeane's jewels, seem toindicate an extraordinary crime, and opinion varies considerably in theScarnham district as to whether Mr. Hollis--the reason of whose visit toScarnham is still unexplained--fell into the old mine by accident, orwhether he was thrown in. 

"'At the beginning of the proceedings this afternoon, a shepherd namedJames Livesey, of Ellersdeane, employed by Mr. Marchant, farmer, of thesame place, was immediately called. He stated in answer to questions putby the Coroner, that on Monday morning last he had gone with hisemployer to an out-of-the-way part of Northumberland to buy new stock, and in consequence of his absence from home had not heard of theScarnham affair until his return this morning, when, on Mr. Marchant'sadvice, he had at once called on the Coroner's office to volunteerinformation. 

"'Livesey's evidence, in brief, was as follows: At nine o'clock lastSaturday evening, he was walking home from Scarnham to Ellersdeane by atrack which crosses the Hollow, and cuts into the high road between thetown and the village at a point near the Warren, an isolated house whichis the private residence of Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke, banker, ofScarnham. As he reached this point, he saw Mr. John Horbury, whom heknew very well by sight, accompanied by a stranger, come out of theHollow by another path, cross the high road, and walk down the lanewhich leads to the Warren. They were talking very earnestly, but Mr. Horbury saw him and said good-night in answer to his own greeting. Therewas a strong moonlight at the time, and he saw the stranger's faceclearly. He was quite sure that the stranger was the dead man whose bodyhad just been shown to him at the mortuary. 

"'Questioned further, Livesey positively adhered to all his statements. He was certain of the time; certain of the identity of the twogentlemen. He knew Mr. Horbury very well indeed; had known him for manyyears; Mr. Horbury had often talked to him when they met in the fieldsand lanes of the neighbourhood. He had no doubt at all that the dead manhe had seen in the mortuary was the gentleman who was with Mr. Horburyon Saturday night. He had noticed him particularly as the two gentlemenpassed him, and had wondered who he was. The moon was very bright thatnight: he saw Mr. Hollis quite plainly: he would have known him again atany time. He was positive that the two gentlemen entered the lane whichled to Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke's house. They were evidently making adirect line for it when he first saw them, and they crossed the highroad straight to its entrance. That lane led nowhere else than to theWarren--it was locally called the lane, but it was really a sort ofcarriage-drive to Mr. Chestermarke's front door, and there was a gate atthe high-road entrance to it. He saw Mr. Horbury and his companion enterthat gate; he heard it clash behind them. 

"'Questioned by Mr. Polke, superintendent of police at Scarnham, Livesaysaid that when he first saw the two gentlemen they were coming from thedirection of Ellersdeane Tower. There was a path right across theHollow, from a point in front of the Warren, to the Tower, and thence tothe woods on the Scarnham side. That was the path the two gentlemen wereon. He was absolutely certain about the time, for two reasons. Justbefore he saw Mr. Horbury and his companion, he heard the clock atScarnham Parish Church strike nine, and after they had passed him he hadgone on to the Green Archer public-house, and had noticed that it wasten minutes past nine when he entered. Further questioned, he said hesaw no one else on the Hollow but the two gentlemen. 

"'At the conclusion of Livesey's evidence, the Coroner announced to thejury that, having had the gist of the witness's testimony communicatedto him earlier in the day, he had sent his officer to request Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke's attendance. The officer, however, had returned tosay that Mr. Chestermarke was away on business, and that it was notknown when he would be back at the bank. As it was highly important thatthe jury should know at once if Mr. Horbury and Mr. Hollis called at theWarren on Saturday evening last, he, the Coroner, had sent for Mr. Chestermarke's butler, who would doubtless be able to give informationon that point. They would adjourn for an hour until the witnessattended. '"

"That's the end of it--in that paper, " remarked Starmidge. "Let's see ifthe other has any later news. Ah!--here we are!--there is more in thestop press space of this one. Now then----"

He held the second newspaper half in front of himself, half in front ofEasleby, and again rapidly read over the report. 

"'Scarnham--further adjournment. On the Coroner's inquiry being resumedat four o'clock, Thomas Beavers, butler to Mr. Chestermarke at theWarren, said that so far as he knew, Mr. Horbury did not call on hismaster on Saturday evening last, nor did any gentleman call who answeredthe description of Mr. Hollis. It was impossible for anybody to call atthe Warren, in the ordinary way, without his, the butler's, knowledge. As a matter of fact, the witness continued, Mr. Chestermarke was not athome during the greater part of that evening. Mr. Joseph Chestermarkehad dined at the Warren at seven o'clock, and at half-past eight he andhis uncle left the house together. Mr. Chestermarke did not return untileleven. Asked by Mr. Polke, superintendent of police, if he knew inwhich direction Mr. Gabriel and Mr. Joseph Chestermarke proceeded whenthey went away, the witness said that a short time after they left thehouse, he, in drawing the curtains of the dining-room window, saw themwalking in a side-path of the garden, apparently in close conversation. He saw neither of them after that until Mr. Gabriel Chestermarkereturned home, alone, at the time he had mentioned. 

"'Later. The inquest was further adjourned at the close of thisafternoon's proceedings. Before adjourning, the Coroner informed thejury that he understood there were rumours in the town to the effectthat Mr. Hollis had been strangled before being thrown into the oldlead-mine. He need hardly say that there were not the slightest groundsfor those rumours. But the medical men had some suspicion that theunfortunate gentleman might have been poisoned, and he, the Coroner, thought it well to tell them that a specialist was being sent down bythe Home Office, who, with the Scarnham doctors, would perform anautopsy on his arrival. The result would be placed before the jury whenthese proceedings were resumed. '"

Starmidge dropped the paper and looked at Easleby with an expression ofastonishment. 

"Poison!" he exclaimed. "That's a new idea! Poisoned first!--and throwninto that old mine after? That's--but, there, what's the good oftheorizing? Pick out the best of those cars, and let's get to Scarnhamas quick as possible. Something's got to be done tonight. "

Easleby made no immediate answer. But presently, when they were in afast motor and leaving the Ecclesborough streets behind them, he shookhis head, and spoke more gravely than was usual with him. 

"The big question, my lad, " he said, "is--what to do? And there'sanother--what's been done--and possibly, what's being done? It's myimpression something's being done now--still going on!"

"I know one thing!" exclaimed Starmidge determinedly. "We'll confrontGabriel Chestermarke tonight with what we know. That's positive!"

"If we can find him, " said Easleby. "You don't know! The coming down toEcclesborough may have been all a blind. You can reach a lot of placesfrom Ecclesborough--and you can leave a train at more than one placebetween Ecclesborough and London. "

"I telephoned Polke to keep an eye on him, anyway, if he did arrive ateither Scarnham or the Warren, " answered Starmidge, still grimlydetermined. "And it's my impression that he has come down--to see thatnephew of his. Easleby!--they're both in at it. Both!"

Again the elder detective made no answer. He was obviously muchimpressed by the recent developments as related in the newspapers whichthey had just read, and was deep in thought about them and thepossibilities which they suggested to him. 

"Well!" he said at last, as the high roofs of Scarnham came in view, "we'll hear what Polke has to tell. Something may have happened sincethose inquest proceedings this afternoon. "

But Polke, when they reached his office, had little o tell. LordEllersdeane, Betty Fosdyke, and Stephen Hollis were with him, evidentlyin consultation, and Starmidge at once saw that Betty looked distressedand anxious in no ordinary degree. All turned eagerly on the twodetectives. But Starmidge addressed himself straight to Polke with onedirect inquiry. 

"Seen him?--heard of him?" he asked. 

"Not a word!" answered Polke. "Nor a sign! If he came down by that trainyou spoke of, he ought to have been in the town by four o'clock at theoutside. But he's never been to the bank, and he certainly hadn'tarrived at his house three-quarters of an hour ago. And since teno'clock this morning t'other's disappeared, too!"

"What--Joseph?" exclaimed Starmidge. 

"Just so!" replied Polke, with the expression of a man who feels thatthings are getting too much for individual effort, "He was at the bankat eight o'clock this morning--one of my men saw him go in by the backway--orchard way, you know. The clerks say he went out--that wayagain--at ten, and he's never been seen since. "

"His house!" said Starmidge. "Have you tried that?"

"Know nothing of him there--the old man and old woman said so, at anyrate, " answered Polke. "He seems to have cleared out. And now here'sfresh bother, though I don't know if it's anything to do with this. Mr. Neale's missing--never been seen since six yesterday evening. MissFosdyke's anxious----"

"He was to see me at nine last night, " said Betty. "No one has seen him. His landlady says he never returned home last night. Do you thinkanything can have happened----"

"If anything's happened to Mr. Neale, " interrupted Starmidge, "it's allof a piece with the rest of it. Now, superintendent!" he went on, turning to Polke, "never mind what news I've brought--we've got to findthese two Chestermarkes at once! We must go, some of us, to the Warren, some to the Cornmarket. See here!--Easleby and I will go on to theCornmarket now--you get some of your men and follow. If we hear nothingthere--then, the Warren. But--quick!"

The two detectives hurried out of the police-station; Lord Ellersdeaneand Betty, after a word or two with Polke, followed. Outside, Starmidgeand Easleby paused a moment, consulting; the Earl stepped forward tospeak to them. 

"As regards Mr. Neale, " he began, "Miss Fosdyke thinks you ought to knowthat----"

A sudden searching flash, as of lightning, glared across the open spacein front, lighting up the tower of the old church, the high roofs of theancient houses, and the drifting clouds above them. Then a crash as ofterrible thunder shook the little town from end to end, and as it diedaway the street lamps went out, and the tinkle of falling glass soundedon the pavements of the Market-Place. And in the second of dead silencewhich followed, a woman's voice, shrill, terrified, shrieked loudly, once, somewhere in the darkness. 

CHAPTER XXVII

THE OLD DOVE-COT

On the previous evening, Wallington Neale, who had spent most of the daywith Betty Fosdyke, endeavouring to gain some further light on thedisappearance of her uncle, had left her at eight o'clock in order tokeep a business appointment. He was honourary treasurer of the ScarnhamCricket Club: the weekly meeting of the committee of which importantinstitution was due that night at the Hope and Anchor Inn, an old tavernin the Cornmarket. Thither Neale repaired, promising to rejoin Betty atnine o'clock. There was little business to be done at the meeting: by aquarter to nine it was all over and Neale was going away. And as hewalked down the long sanded passage which led from the committee-room tothe front entrance of the inn, old Rob Walford, the landlord, came outof the bow-windowed bar-parlour, beckoned him, with a mystery-suggestingair, to follow, and led him into a private room, the door of which hecarefully closed. 

Walford, a shrewd-eyed, astute old fellow, well known in Scarnham forhis business abilities and his penetration, chiefly into other people'saffairs, looked at Neale with a mingled expression of meaning andinquiry. 

"Mr. Neale!" he whispered, glancing round at the panelling of the oldparlour in which they stood, as if he feared that its ancient boardsmight conceal eavesdroppers, "I wanted a word with you--in private. How's this here affair going? Is aught being done? Is aught being foundout? Is that detective chap any good?--him from London, I mean. Is thereaught new--since this morning?"

"Not to my knowledge, Mr. Walford, " answered Neale, who knew well thatthe old innkeeper was hand-in-glove with the Scarnham police, andinvariably kept himself well primed with information about their doings. "I should think you know nearly everything--just as much as I do--more, perhaps. "

The landlord poked a stout forefinger into Neale's waistcoat. 

"Aye!" he said. "Aye, so I do!--as to what you might call surfacematter, Mr. Neale. But--about the main thing, which, in my opinion, isthe whereabouts of John Horbury? Does yon young lady at the ScarnhamArms know aught more about her uncle? Do you? Does anybody? Is thereaught behind, like; aught that hasn't come out on the top?"

"I don't know of anything, " replied Neale. "I wish I did! Miss Fosdyke'svery anxious indeed about her uncle: she'd give anything or do anythingto get news of him. It's all rot, you know, to say he's run away--it'smy impression he's never gone out of Scarnham or the neighbourhood. Butwhere he is, and whether dead or alive, is beyond my comprehension, " heconcluded, shaking his head. "If he's alive, why don't we hearsomething, or find out something?"

Walford gave his companion a quick glance out of his shrewd old eyes. 

"He might be under such circumstances as wouldn't admit of that there, Mr. Neale, " he said. "But come!--I've got something to tellyou--something that I found out not half an hour ago. I was going on totell Polke about it at once, but I remembered that you were in the houseat this cricket club meeting, so I thought you'd do instead--you cantell Polke. I'm in a bit of a hurry myself--you know it's WymingtonRaces tomorrow, and I'm off there tonight, at once, to meet a man that Ido a bit of business with in these matters--we make a book together, d'ye see--so I can't stop. But come this way. "

He led Neale out into the long sanded passage, and down through the rearof the old house into a big stable-yard, enclosed by variously shapedbuildings, more or less in an almost worn-out and dilapidated condition, whose roofs and gables showed picturesquely against the sky, faintlylighted by the waning moon. To one of these, a tower-like erection, considerably higher than the rest, the old landlord pointed. 

"I suppose you know that these back premises of mine partly overlookJoseph Chestermarke's garden?" he whispered. "They do, anyway--you cansee right over his garden and the back of his house--that is, in bits, for he's a fine lot of tall trees round his lawns. But there's a veryfair view of that workshop he's built from the top storey of this olddove-cot of mine--we use it as a store-house. Come up--and mind thesehere broken steps--there's no rail, you see, and you could easy fallover. "

He led his companion up a flight of much-worn stone stairs which werebuilt against the wall of the old dove-cot; through an open doorwaytwenty feet above; across a rickety floor; and up another stairway ofwood, into a chamber in which was a latticed window, from which most ofthe glass and the woodwork had disappeared. 

"Now, then, " he said, taking Neale to this outlook, and pointingdownwards. "There you are!--you see what I mean?"

Neale looked out. Joseph Chestermarke's big garden lay beneath him. AsWalford had said, much of it was obscured by trees, but there was a goodprospect of one side of the laboratory from where Neale was standing. That side was furnished with a door--and on the level of that door atthe extreme end of the building was a window fitted with alight-coloured blind. All the other windows, as in the case of the sidewhich Neale had seen previously from the tree on the river-bank, werehigh up in the walls and fitted with red material. And from thecuriously shaped smoke stack in the flat roof, the same differentlytinted vapours which he had noticed on the same occasion were curling upabove the elms and beeches. 

"Now look here!" whispered the landlord. "D'ye see that one window withthe whitish blind and the light behind it? I came up here, maybe half anhour ago, to see if we were out of something that's kept here, and Ichanced to look out on to Joseph Chestermarke's garden. Mr. Neale!--there's a man in that room with the light-coloured blind--I sawhis shadow on the blind, pass and repass, you understand, twice, while Ilooked. And--it's not Joseph Chestermarke!"

"Could you tell?--had you any idea?--whose shadow it was?" demandedNeale eagerly. 

"No!--he passed in a sort of slanting direction--back and forward--justonce, " answered Walford. "But--his build was, I should say, about thelike of John Horbury's. Mr. Neale--Horbury might be locked up there!He's a bad 'un, is Joe Chestermarke--oh, he's a rank bad 'un, mylad!--though most folk don't know it. You don't know what mayn't behappening, or what mayn't have happened in yon place! But look here--Ican't stop. Me and Sam Barraclough's going off to Wymington now, in hismotor--he'll be waiting at this minute. You do what I say--stop here andwatch a bit. And if you see aught, go to Polke and insist on the policesearching that place. That's my advice!"

"I shall do that, in any case, after what you've said, " muttered Neale, who was staring at the lighted window. "But I'll watch here a bit. You've said nothing of this to anybody else?"

"No, " replied the landlord. "As I said, I knew you were in the house. Well, I'm off, then. Shan't be back till late tomorrow night--and I hopeyou'll have some news by then, Mr. Neale. "

Walford went off across the creaking floor and down the stairs, andNeale leaned out of the dismantled window and stared into the gardenbeneath. Was it possible, he wondered, that there was anything in theold fellow's suggestion?--possible that the missing bank manager wasreally concealed in that mysterious laboratory, or workshop, or whateverthe place was, into which Joseph Chestermarke never allowed any personto enter? And if he was there at all, was it with his consent, oragainst his will, or--what? Was he being kept a prisoner--or washe--hiding?

In spite of his own knowledge of Horbury, and of Betty Fosdyke'sassertions of her uncle's absolute innocence, Neale had all along beenconscious of a vague, uneasy feeling that, after all, there might besomething of an unexplained nature in which the manager had been, or wasconcerned. It might have something to do with the missing jewels; itmight be mixed up with Frederick Hollis's death; it might be thatHorbury and Joseph Chestermarke were jointly concerned in--but there hewas at a loss, not knowing or being able to speculate on what they couldbe concerned in. Strange beyond belief it was, nevertheless, that oldRob Walford should think the shadow he had seen to be the missing man's!Supposing----

The door of Joseph Chestermarke's laboratory suddenly opened, lettingout a glare of light across the lawn in front. And Joseph came out, carrying a sort of sieve-like arrangement, full of glowing ashes. Hewent away to some distant part of the garden with his burden; came back, disappeared; re-appeared with more ashes; went again down the garden. And each time he left the door wide open. A sudden notion--which heneglected to think over--flashed into Neale's mind. He left the upperchamber of the old dove-cot, made his way down the stairs to the yardbeneath, turned the corner of the buildings, and by the aid of someloose timber which lay piled against it, climbed to the top of JosephChestermarke's wall. A moment of hesitation, and then he quietly droppedto the other side, noiselessly, on the soft mould of the border. Frombehind a screen of laurel bushes he looked out on the laboratory, atclose quarters. 

Joseph was still coming and going with his sieve--now that Neale saw himat a few yards distance he saw that the junior partner and amateurexperimenter was evidently cleaning out his furnace. The place intowhich he threw the ashes was at the far end of the garden; at leastthree minutes was occupied in each journey. And--yielding to a suddenimpulse--when Joseph made his next excursion and had his back fairlyturned, Neale crossed the lawn in half a dozen agile and stealthystrides, and within a few seconds had slipped within the open door andbehind it. 

A moment later, and he knew he was trapped. Joseph came back--and didnot enter. Neale heard him fling the sieve on the gravel. Then the doorwas pulled to with a metallic bang, from without, and the same actionwhich closed it also cut off the electric light. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

SOUND-PROOF

It needed no more than a moment's reflection to prove to Neale that hehad made a serious mistake in obeying that first impulse. JosephChestermarke had gone away--probably for the night. And there had beensomething in the metallic clang of that closing door, something in thesure and certain fashion in which it had closed into its frame, something in the utter silence which had followed the sudden extinctionof the light, which made the captive feel that he might beat upon dooror wall as hard and as long as he pleased without attracting anyattention. This place into which he had come of his own free will was noordinary place--already he felt that he was in a trap out of which itwas not going to be easy to escape. 

He stood for a moment, heart thumping and pulses throbbing, to listenand to look. But he saw nothing--beyond the faint indication of thewaning moonlight outside the red-curtained, circular windows high abovehim, and a fainter speck of glowing cinder, left behind in the recentlyemptied furnace. He heard nothing, either, save a very faint cracklingof the expiring ashes in that furnace. Presently even that minute sounddied down, the one speck of light went out, and the silence and gloomwere intense. 

Neale now knew that unless Joseph Chestermarke came back to his workshophe was doomed to spend the night in it--and possibly part of the nextday. He felt sure that it was impossible to obtain release otherwisethan by Joseph's coming. He could do nothing--in all probability--torelease himself. No one in the town would have the remotest idea that hewas fastened up within those walls. The only man to whom such an ideacould come on hearing that he, Neale, was missing, was old RobWalford--and Walford, by that time, would be well on his way toWymington, thirty miles off, and as he was to be there all night, andall next day, he would hear nothing until his return to Scarnham, twenty-four hours hence. No!--he was caught. Joseph Chestermarke had hadno idea of catching him--but he had caught him all the same. 

And now that he was safely caught, Neale began to wonder why he hadslipped into that place. He had an elementary idea, of course--he hadwanted to find out if anybody was concealed in that room which thelandlord had pointed out. Certainly he had felt no fear about meetingJoseph Chestermarke. Yet--now that he was there--he did not know what heshould have done if Joseph had come in, as he expected he would, norwhat he should, or could do now that he was in complete possession. Ifhe had been able to face Joseph, he would have demanded information, point-blank, about the shadow on the blind; he even had some mistynotion about enforcing it, if need be. But--he was now helpless. Hecould do no good; he could not tell Polke or anybody else what Walfordhad reported. And if he was to be left there all night--which seemedlikely--he had only got himself into a highly unpleasant situation. 

He moved at last, feeling about in the darkness. His hands encounteredsmooth, blank walls, on each side of the door. He dared not step forwardlest he should run against machinery or meet with some cavity in theflooring. And reflecting that the small, insignificant gleam which itwould make could scarcely be noticed from outside, he struck a match, and carefully holding it within the flap of his outstretched jacket, looked around him. A first quick glance gave him a general idea of hissurroundings. Immediately in front of him was the furnace; a little toits side was a lathe; on one side of the place a long table stood, covered with a multitude of tools, chemical apparatus, and the like; onthe other was a blank wall. And in that blank wall, to which Nealechiefly directed his attention during the few seconds for which thematch burned, was a door. 

The match went out; he dropped it on the floor and moved forward in thedarkness to the door which he had just seen. That, of course, must openinto the inner room to the outer window of which Walford had drawn hisattention. He went on until his outstretched fingers touched the door. Then he cautiously struck another match and looked the door up and down. What he saw added to the mystery of the whole adventure. Neale had seendoors of that sort before, more than once--but they were the doors ofvery big safes or of strong rooms. Before the second match burnedthrough he knew that this particular door was of some metal--steel, most likely--that it was set into a framework of similar metal, and thatthe room to which it afforded entrance was probably sound-proof. 

He struck a third match and a fourth. By their light he saw there wasbut one small keyhole to the door, and he judged from that that it wasfitted with some patent mechanical lock. There was no way by which hecould open it, of course, and though he stood for a long time listeningwith straining ears against it he could not detect the slightest soundfrom whatever chamber or recess lay behind it. If there really was a manin there, thought Neale, he must surely feel himself to be in a livingtomb. And after a time, taking the risk of being heard from outside thelaboratory, he beat heavily upon the door with his fist. No responsecame: the silence all around him was more oppressive, if possible, thanbefore. 

The expenditure of more matches enabled Neale to examine further intothe conditions of what seemed likely to be his own prison for somehours. He was not sorry to see that in one corner stood an old settee, furnished with rugs and cushions--if he was obliged to remain locked upall night, he would, at any rate, be able to get some rest. But beyondthis, the furnace, a tall three-fold screen, evidently used to assist inthe manipulation of draughts, and the lathe, table, and apparatus whichhe had already seen, there was nothing in the place. There was no way ofgetting at the windows in the top of the high walls: even if he couldhave got at them they were too small for a man to squeeze through. Andhe was about to sit down on the settee and wait the probably slow andtedious course of events, when he caught sight of an object at the endof the table which startled him, and made him wonder more than anythinghe had seen up to that moment. 

That object was a big loaf of bread. He struck yet another match andlooked at it more narrowly. It was one of those large loaves whichbakers make for the use of families. Close by it lay a knife: a nearerinspection showed Neale that a slice had recently been cut from theloaf: he knew that by the fact that the crumb was still soft and freshon the surface, in spite of the great heat of the place. It was scarcelylikely that Joseph Chestermarke would eat unbuttered bread during hisexperiments and labours--why, then, was the loaf there? Could it be thatthis bread was--that the slice which had just been cut was--the rationgiven to somebody behind that door?

This idea filled Neale with the first spice of fear which he had feltsince entering the laboratory. The idea of a man being fastened up in asound-proof chamber and fed on dry bread suggested possibilities whichhe did not and could not contemplate without a certain horror. And ifthere really was such a prisoner in that room, or cell, or whatever theplace was, who could it be but John Horbury? And if it was John Horbury, how, under what circumstances, had he been brought there, why was hebeing kept there?

Neale sat down at last on the settee, and in the silence and darknessgave himself up to thoughts of a nature which he had never known in hislife before. Here, at any rate, was adventure!--and of a decidedlyunpleasant sort. He was not afraid for himself. He had a revolver in hiship-pocket, loaded--he had been carrying it since Tuesday, with somestrange notion that it might be wanted. Certainly he might have to gowithout food for perhaps many hours--but he suddenly remembered that inthe pocket of his Norfolk jacket he had a biggish box of first-ratechocolate, which he had bought on his way to the cricket club meeting, with a view of presenting it to Betty, later on. He could get through aday on that, he thought, if it were necessary--as for the loaf of bread, something seemed to nauseate him at the mere thought of trying toswallow a mouthful of it. 

The rest of the evening went: the silence was never broken. Not a soundcame from the mysterious chamber behind him. No step sounded on thegravel without: no hand unlocked the door from the garden. Now and thenhe heard the clock of the parish church strike the hours. At last heslept--at first fitfully; later soundly--and when he woke it wasmorning, and the sunlight was pouring in through the red-curtainedwindows high in the walls of his prison. 

CHAPTER XXIX

THE SPARROWS AND THE SPHERE

Neale was instantly awake and on the alert. He sprang to his feet, shivering a little in spite of the rugs which he had wrapped about himbefore settling down. A slight current of cold air struck him as herose--looking in the direction from which it seemed to come, he saw thatone of the circular windows in the high wall above him was open, andthat a fresh north-east wind was blowing the curtain aside. Thelaboratory, hot and close enough when he had entered it the previousevening, was now cool; the morning breeze freshened and sharpened hiswits. He pulled out his watch, which he had been careful to wind upbefore lying down. Seven o'clock!--in spite of his imprisonment and hisunusual couch, he had slept to his accustomed hour of waking. 

Knowing that Joseph Chestermarke might walk in upon him at any moment, Neale kept himself on the look out, in readiness to adopt a determinedattitude whenever he was discovered. By that time he had come to theconclusion that whether force would be necessary or not in any meetingwith Joseph, it would be no unwise thing to let that worthy see at oncethat he had to deal with an armed man. He accordingly saw to it that hisrevolver, already loaded, was easily get-at-able, and the flap of hiship-pocket unbuttoned: under the circumstances, he was not going to beslow in producing that revolver in suggestive, if not precisely menacingfashion. This done, he opened his box of chocolate, calculated itsresources, and ate a modest quantity. And while he ate, he looked abouthim. In the morning light everything in his surroundings showed clearlythat his cursory inspection of the night before had been productive ofdefinite conclusions. There was no doubt whatever of the character ofthe mysterious door set so solidly and closely in its framework in theblank wall: the door of the strong room at Chestermarke's Bank was notmore suggestive of security. 

He went over to the outer door when he had eaten his chocolate, andexamined that at his leisure. That, in lesser degree, was set into thewall as strongly as the inner one. He saw no means of opening it fromthe inside: it was evidently secured by a patent mechanical lock ofwhich Joseph Chestermarke presumably carried the one key. He turned fromit to look more closely at a shelf of books and papers which projectedfrom the wall above the table. Papers and books were all of a scientificnature, most of them relating to experimental chemistry, some tomechanics. He noticed that there were several books on poisons; hisglance fell from those books to various bottles and phials on the table, fashioned of dark-coloured glass and three-cornered in shape, which hesupposed to contain poisonous solutions. So Joseph dabbled intoxicology, did he? thought Neale--in that case, perhaps, there wassomething in the theory which had been gaining ground during the lasttwenty-four hours--that Hollis had been poisoned first and thrown intothe old lead-mine later on. And--what of the somebody, Horbury orwhoever it was, that lay behind that grim-looking door? Neale had neverheard a sound during the time which had elapsed before he droppedasleep, never a faintest rustle since he had been awake again. Was itpossible that a dead man lay there--murdered?

A cheerful chirping and twittering in the space behind him caused him toturn sharply away from the books and bottles. Then he saw that he was nolonger alone. Half a score sparrows, busy, bustling little bodies, hadcome in by the open window, and were strutting about amongst the greyashes in front of the furnace. 

Neale's glance suddenly fell on the loaf of bread, close at hand on theedge of the table, and on the knife which lay by it. Mechanically, without any other idea than that of feeding the sparrows and divertinghimself by watching their antics, he picked up the knife, quietly cutoff a half-slice of the loaf, and, crumbling it in his fingers, threwthe crumbs on the floor. For a minute or two he watched his visitorsfighting over this generous dole; then he turned to the shelf again, totake down a book, the title of which had attracted him. Neale was anenthusiastic member of the Territorial Force, and had already gained hissergeant's stripes in the local battalion; he was accordingly deeplyinterested in all military matters--this book certainly related to thosematters, though in a way with which he was happily as yet unfamiliar. For its title was "On the Use of High Explosive in Modern Warfare, " andthough Neale was no great reader, he was well enough versed in currentaffairs to know the name of the author, a foreign scientist ofworld-wide reputation. 

He opened the book as he stood there, and was soon absorbed in thepreface; so absorbed indeed, that it was some little time before hebecame aware that the cheerful twittering behind him had ceased. It hadmade a welcome diversion, that innocent chirping of the little brownbirds, and when it ceased, he missed it. He turned suddenly--and droppedthe book. 

Seven or eight of the sparrows were already lying on the floormotionless. Some lay on their sides, some on their backs; all looked asif they were already dead. Two were still on their feet; at any othertime Neale would have laughed to see the way in which they staggeredabout, for all the world as if they were drunk. And as he watched onecollapsed; the other, after an ineffective effort to spread its wings, rolled to one side and dropped helplessly. And Neale made anotherturn--to stare at the loaf of bread and to wonder what devilry lay init. Poison? Of course it was poison! And--what of this man in thatjealously guarded room, behind that steel door? Had he also eaten of theloaf?

He turned to the sparrows again at last, stood staring at them as ifthey fascinated him, and eventually went over to the foot of the furnaceand picked one up. Then he found, with something of a shock, that thesmall thing was not dead. The little body was warm with life; he feltthe steady, regular beating of the tiny heart. He laid the bird downgently, and picked up its companions, one by one, examining each. Andeach was warm, and the heart of each was beating. The sparrows were notdead--but they were drugged--and they were very fast asleep. 

Neale now began to develop theories. If a mere tiny crumb of that loafcould put a sparrow, a remarkably vigorous and physically strong littlebird--to sleep within a minute or two, what effect would, say, a goodthick slice of it produce upon a human being? Anyway, the probabilitywas that the captive in that room was lying in a heavily druggedcondition, and that that was the reason of his silence. He wouldwake--and surely some sound, however faint, would come. He himself wouldwait--listening. The morning wore on--he waited, watched, listened. Nonecame--nothing had happened. He ate more of his chocolate. He read thebook on explosives. It interested him deeply--so deeply that in spite ofhis anxiety, his hunger, his uncertainty as to what might happen, sooneror later, he became absorbed in it. And once more he was called from itspages by the sparrows. 

The sparrows were coming to life. After lying stupefied for some four orfive hours they were showing signs of animation. One by one they weremoving, staggering to their feet, beginning to chirp. And as he watchedthem, first one and then the other got the use of its wings; and, finally, with one consent, they flew off to the open window--todisappear. 

Thereafter, Neale listened more keenly than ever for any sound from thatmysterious room. But no sound came. The afternoon passed wearily away;the light began to fail, and at last he had to confess to himself thatthe waiting, the being always on the alert, the enforced seclusion anddetention, the desire for proper food and drink--especially thelatter--was becoming too much for him, and that his nerves werebeginning to suffer. Was Joseph Chestermarke never coming? Had he goneoff somewhere?--possibly leaving a dead man behind, whose body was onlya few yards away. There was no spark of comfort visible save one. OldRob Walford would be home late that night from Wymington--sooner orlater he would hear of Neale's disappearance and he would sharpen hisnaturally acute wits and come to the right conclusion. Yet--that mightbe as far off as tomorrow. 

As the darkness came, Neale, now getting desperate for want of food, wassuddenly startled by two sounds which, coming abruptly at almost thesame time, made him literally jump. One--the first--was a queer thump, thump, thump, which seemed to be both close at hand and yet a thousandmiles away. The second was Joseph Chestermarke's voice in the gardenoutside--heard clearly through the open window. He was bidding somebodyto tell a cab-driver to wait for him at the foot of the bridge. The nextminute, Neale heard a key plunged into the outer door--before it turned, he, following out a scheme which he had decided on during his longwatch, had leaped behind the screen that stood near the furnace. Ere thedoor could open, he was safely hidden--and in that second he heard thethumping repeated and knew that it came from the inner room. 

The electric light blazed up as Joseph Chestermarke strode in. He putthe door to behind him without quite closing it, and walked into themiddle of the laboratory, feeling in his waistcoat pocket for somethingas he advanced. And Neale, peering at him through the high screen, feltafraid of him for the first time in his life. For the junior partner hadshaved off his beard and moustache, and the face which was thus clearlyrevealed, and on which the bright light shone vividly, was one of suchmean and malevolent cruelty that the watcher felt himself turn sick withdread. 

Joseph went straight to the door in the far wall, unlocked it with atwist of the key which he had brought from his pocket, and walked in. The click of an electric light switch followed, and Neale stared hardand nervously into the hitherto hidden room. But he saw nothing butJoseph Chestermarke, standing, hands planted on his sides, staring atsomething hidden by the door. Next instant Joseph spoke--menacingly, sneeringly. 

"So you're round again after one of your long sleeps, are you?" he said. "That's lucky! Now then, have you come to your senses?"

Neale thought his heart would burst as he waited for the unseen man'svoice. But before he heard any voice he heard something which turned hisblood cold with horror--the clanking, plain, unmistakable, of a chain!Whoever was in there was chained!--chained like a dog. And following onthat metallic sound came a weary moan. 

"Come on, now!" said Joseph. "None of that! Are you going to sign thatpaper? Speak, now!"

It seemed to Neale an age before an answer came. But it came atlast--and in Horbury's voice. But what a changed voice! Thin, weak, weary--the voice of a man slowly being done to death. 

"How long are you going to keep me here?" it asked. "How long----"

"Sign that paper on the table there, and you'll be out of this withintwenty-four hours, " replied Joseph. "And--listen, you!--you'll have goodfood--and wine--wine!--within ten minutes. Come on, now!"

Further silence was followed by another moan, and at the sound of that, Neale, whose teeth had been clenched firmly for the last minute or two, slipped his hand round to the pocket in which the revolver lay. 

"Don't be a damned fool!" said Joseph. "Sign and have done with it!There's the pen--sign! You could have signed any time the last week andbeen free. Get it done--damn you, I tell you, get it done! It's yourlast chance. I'm off tonight. If I leave you here, it's in your grave. Nobody'll ever come near this place for weeks--you'll be dead--starvedto death, mind!--long before that. Do you hear me? Come on, now!--sign!"

Neale half drew the revolver from his pocket. But, as he was about tostep from behind the screen, a sudden step sounded on the gravel outsidethe outer door, and he shrank back, watching. The door opened--wasthrown back with some violence--and at the same instant Joseph dartedfrom the inner room, livid with anger, to confront Gabriel Chestermarke. 

That the younger man had not expected to encounter the elder wasinstantly evident to Neale. Joseph drew back, step by step, watching hisuncle, until his back was against the door through which he had justrushed. His hand went out behind him and pulled the door to, heavily. And as it closed he spoke--and Neale knew that there was fear in hisvoice. 

"What--what--is it?" he got out. "When did you come in here? Why----"Gabriel Chestermarke had come to a halt in the middle of the floor, andhe was standing very still. His face was paler than ever, and his eyesburned in their deep-set sockets like live coals. And suddenly he lifteda forefinger and pointed it straight at his nephew. 

"Thief!" he said, with a quietness which was startlingly impressive tothe excited spectator. "Thief! Thief and liar--and murderer, for aught Iknow! But you are found out. Scoundrel!--you stole those securities! Youstole those jewels! Don't trifle--don't attempt to dispute! I know! Yougot the jewels last Saturday night--you took those securities at thesame time. You may have murdered that man Hollis for anything I know tothe contrary--probably you did. But--no fencing with me! Now speak!Where are the jewels? Where are those securities? And--where is Horbury!Answer!--without lying. You devil!--I tell you I know--_know_! I haveseen Mrs. Carswell!"

Gabriel had moved a little as he went on speaking--moved nearer to hisnephew, still pointing the incriminating and accusing finger at him. AndJoseph had moved, too--backward. He was watching his uncle with a queerexpression. Neale saw the tip of his tongue emerge from his lips, as ifthe lips had become dry, and he wanted to moisten them. And suddenly hisface changed, and Neale, closely watching him, saw his hand go quicklyto his breast pocket, and caught the gleam of a revolver. . . . 

Neale was a cricketer--of reputation and experience. On a felt-coveredstand close by him lay a couple of heavy spherical objects, fashioned ofsome shining-surfaced metal and about the size of a cricket ball, whichhe had previously noticed and handled in looking round. He snatched oneof them up now, and flung it hard and straight at Joseph Chestermarke, intending to stun him. But for once in a way he missed his mark; themissile crashed against the wall behind. And then came a great flash, and the roar of all the world going to pieces, and a mighty lifting andupheaving--and he saw and felt and knew no more. 

CHAPTER XXX

WRECKAGE

The four people standing beneath the portico of the police-stationremained as if spell-bound for a full moment after the sudden flash andthe sudden roar. Betty Fosdyke unconsciously clutched at LordEllersdeane's arm: Lord Ellersdeane spoke, wonderingly. 

"Thunder?" he exclaimed. "Strange!"

Easleby turned sharply from Starmidge, who, holding by one of thepillars, was staring towards the quarter of the Market-Place, fromwhence the scream of dire fear had come. 

"That's no thunder, my lord!" he said. "That's an explosion!--and aterrible one, too! Are there any gasworks close at hand? It waslike----"

Polke came rushing out of the lobby behind them, followed by some of hismen. And at the same instant people began running along the pavements, calling to each other. 

"Did you hear that?" cried the superintendent excitedly. "An explosion!Which direction?"

Starmidge suddenly started, as if from a reverie. He put up his hand andwiped something from his cheek, and held the hand out to a shaft oflight which came from the open door behind them. A smear of blood layacross his open palm. 

"A splinter of falling glass, " he said quietly. "Come on, all of you!That was an explosion--and I guess where! Get help, Polke--come on tothe Cornmarket! Get the firemen out. "

He set off running towards the end of the Market-Place, followed byEasleby, and at a slower pace by Lord Ellersdeane and Betty. Crowds werebeginning to run in the same direction: very soon the two detectivesfound it difficult to thread a way through them. But within a fewminutes they were in the Cornmarket, and Starmidge, seizing hiscompanion's arm, dragged him round the corner of Joseph Chestermarke'shouse to the high garden wall which ran down the slope to the riverbank. And as they turned the corner, he pointed. 

"As I thought!" he muttered. "It's Joseph Chestermarke's workshop!Something's happened. Look there!"

The wall, a good ten feet high on that side, was blown to pieces, andlay, a mass of fallen masonry, on the green sward by the roadside. Through the gap thus made, Starmidge plunged into the garden--to bebrought up at once by the twisted and interlaced boughs of the treeswhich had been lopped off as though by some giant ax, and theninstantaneously transformed into a cunningly interwoven fence. The airwas still thick with fine dust, and the atmosphere was charged with acurious, acid odour, which made eyes and nostrils smart. 

"No ordinary burst up, this!" muttered Starmidge, as he and Easlebyforced their way through branches and obstacles to the open lawn. "MyGod!--look at it! Blown to pieces!"

The two men stood for a moment staring at the scene before them, as itwas revealed in the faint light of a waning moon. Neither had ever seenthe effect of high explosives before, and they remained transfixed withutter astonishment at what they saw. Never, until then, had eitherbelieved it possible that such ruin could be wrought by such means. 

The laboratory was a mass of shapeless wreckage. It seemed as if theroof had been blown into the sky--only to collapse again on theshattered walls. The masonry and woodwork lay all over lawns andgardens, and amidst the surrounding bushes and trees. In the middle ofit yawned a black, deep cavity, from the heart of which curled a wisp ofyellowish smoke. Between these ruins and the house a beech tree ofconsiderable size had been completely uprooted, and had crashed down onthe lower windows of the house, part of the wall and roof of which hadbeen wrecked. And on the opposite side of the garden a great gap hadbeen made in the smaller trees, and the shrubberies beneath them by thefalling in of Rob Walford's old dove-cot, the ancient walls and timberroof of which had completely collapsed under the force of the explosion. 

Over the actual area of the wreckage everything was still as death, savefor a faint crackling where some loose wood was just catching fire. Starmidge began to make his way towards it. 

"The thing is, " he said mechanically, "the thing is, the thing is--yes, is--was--there anybody here--anybody here! We must have lights. "

And just then as he came to where the burst of flame was growingbigger, and Polke with a body of firemen and constables came hurryingthrough a gap in the lower wall, he caught sight of a man's face, turnedup to the half-light. Easleby saw it at the same time--together theywent nearer. And Starmidge bent down and found himself looking atGabriel Chestermarke. 

"Him!" he whispered. "Then he came--here!"

"He's gone, anyway, " muttered Easleby. "Dead as can be!" He liftedhimself erect and called to Polke who was making his way towards them. "Bring a lantern!" he said. "There's a dead man here!"

"And keep the crowd out, " called Starmidge. "Keep everybody out--whilewe look round. "

But at that moment he caught sight of Betty Fosdyke, who, with LordEllersdeane in close attendance, had made her way into the garden andwas clambering towards him. Starmidge stepped back to her. 

"Hadn't you better go back?" he urged. "There'll be unpleasant sights. Do go back!--amongst the trees, anyway. We've found one dead manalready, and there'll probably be----"

"No!" she said firmly. "I won't! Not until I know who's here. Because Ithink--I'm afraid Mr. Neale may be here. I must--I will stop! I'm notafraid. Whose body have you found?"

"Gabriel Chestermarke's, " replied Starmidge quietly. "Dead!And--whoever's here, Miss Fosdyke, I don't see how he can possibly bealive. Do go back and let us search. "

But Betty turned away and began to search, climbing from one mass ofwreckage to another. Presently an exclamation from her brought theothers hurriedly to her side. She pointed between two slabs of stone. 

"There!" she whispered. "A man's--face!"

Starmidge turned to Lord Ellersdeane. 

"Get her away--aside--anywhere--for a minute!" he muttered. "Let's seewhat condition he's in, anyway. The other--was blown to pieces. "

Lord Ellersdeane took a firm grip of Betty's arm and turned her round. 

"That was not--Mr. Neale?" he asked. 

"No!" she said faintly. "No!"

"Then leave them to deal with that, and let us look elsewhere, " he said. "Come--after all, you don't know that he would be here. "

"Where else should he be?" she answered. "I'm sure he's here, somewhere. Help me!"

She turned away with him in another direction, and the two detectives, with some of the firemen helping them, got to work on the place whichshe had pointed out. Presently Polke directed the light of a bulls'-eyeon the dead face beneath them. He broke into an exclamation ofamazement. 

"Who's this?" he demanded. "Look!"

One of the firemen bent closer, and suddenly glanced up at thesuperintendent. 

"It's young Chestermarke, sir, " he said. "He must have shaved his beardoff. But--it's him!"

They took out what was to be found of Joseph Chestermarke at thatparticular spot, and went on to search for the rest of him, and foranything else. And eventually they came across Neale--unconscious, butalive. His partial protection by the projecting iron walls of thefurnace had saved him; he had evidently been carried back with them whenthe explosion occurred and wedged between them and the outer wall of thelaboratory. He came round to find a doctor administering restoratives tohim on one side, and Betty Fosdyke kneeling at the other. And suddenlyhe remembered, and made a great shift to speak. 

"All right!" he muttered at length. "Bit knocked out, that's all!But--Horbury! Horbury's--somewhere! Get at him!"

They got at the missing bank manager at last--he, too, had been saved bythe thick wall which stood between him and the explosion. He was aliveand conscious when they had dug down to him--and his rescuers staredfrom him to each other when they saw that the broken links of a steelchain were still securely manacled about his waist. 

CHAPTER XXXI

THE PRISONER SPEAKS

It was not until a week later that Neale, with a bandaged head and onearm in a sling, and Betty Fosdyke, inexpressibly thankful that therecent terrible catastrophe had at any rate brought relief in its train, were allowed to visit Horbury for their first interview of more than afew minutes' duration. Neale had made a quick recovery; beyond thefracture of a small bone in his arm, some cuts on his head, and ageneral shock to his system, he was little the worse for his experience. But the elder victim had suffered more severely; he had suffered, too, from a week's ill-treatment and starvation. Nevertheless, he managed anapproving smile when the two young people were brought to his bedside, and he looked at them afterwards in a narrow and scrutinizing fashion, which made Betty redden and grow somewhat conscious. 

"Not more than three-quarters of an hour at most, the nurse said, " sheremarked, as they sat down at the bedside. "So if you have anything tosay, Uncle John, you must get it said within that. "

"One can say a lot within three-quarters of an hour, my dear, " answeredthe invalid. "There is something I wanted to say, " he went on, glancingat Neale. "I suppose there has been an inquest on the twoChestermarkes?"

"Adjourned--until you're all right, " replied Neale. "You and I, ofcourse, are the two important witnesses. You--principally. You knoweverything--I only came in at the end. "

"I suppose there are--and have been--all sorts of rumours?" saidHorbury. "I don't see how anybody but myself could know all thathappened in this horrible business. Hollis, for instance?--have theycome to any conclusion about his death?"

"None!" replied Neale. "All that's known is that he was found at thebottom of one of the old lead mines. We, " he added, nodding at Betty, "were there when he was taken out. "

Horbury's face clouded. 

"And I, " he said, shaking his head, "was there when--but I'll tell youtwo all about it. I should like to go over it all again--before theinquest is resumed. Not that I've forgotten it, " he went on, with ashudder. "I will never do that! It's all like a bad dream. You rememberthe Saturday night when all this began, Neale? If I had had any idea ofwhat was to happen during the next week----!

"That night, between half-past five and six o'clock, I was rung up onthe telephone. Greatly to my surprise I found the caller to be FrederickHollis, an old schoolmate of mine, whom I had only seen once--I'll tellyou when later--since we were at school together. Hollis said he hadcome down specially from London to see me; he was at the Station Hotel, about to have some food, and would like to meet me later. He said hehad reasons for not coming to the Bank House; he wished to meet me insome quiet place about the town. I told him to walk along the river-sideat half-past seven, and I would meet him. And after I had dined I wentout through my garden and orchard and met him coming along. I took himover the foot-bridge into the woods. 

"Hollis told me an extraordinary story--yet one which did not surpriseme as much as you might think. I knew that he was a solicitor in London. He said that only a few days before this interview a lady friend of hishad privately asked his advice. She was a Mrs. Lester, the widow of aman--an old friend of Hollis's--who in his time made a very big fortune. They had an only son, a lad who went into the Army, and into a crackcavalry regiment. The father made his son a handsome, but not sufficientallowance--the son, finding it impossible to get it increased, hadrecourse, after he was of age, to a London money-lender, named GodwinMarkham, of Conduit Street, from whom, in course of time, he borrowedsome seven or eight thousand pounds. Old Lester died--instead of leavinga handsome fortune to the son, he left every penny he had to his wife. The lad was pressed for repayment--Markham claimed some fifteen orsixteen thousand. Young Lester was obliged to tell his mother. She urgedhim to make terms--for cash. Markham would not abate a penny of hisclaim. So Mrs. Lester called in Frederick Hollis and asked his advice. At his suggestion she gave him a cheque for ten thousand pounds: he wasto see Markham and endeavour to get a settlement for that sum. 

"The day before he came down to Scarnham--Friday--Hollis did two things. He got young Lester to come up to town and tell him the exactparticulars of his financial dealings with Godwin Markham. Primed withthese, and knowing that the demand was extortionate, he went, alone, toMarkham's office in Conduit Street. Markham was away, but Hollis saw themanager, a man named Stipp. He saw something more, too. On Stipp'smantelpiece he saw a portrait which he recognized immediately as one ofGabriel Chestermarke. 

"Now, you want to know how Hollis knew Gabriel Chestermarke. In thisway: I told you just now that Hollis and I had only met once since ourschool-days. Some few years ago--I think the year before you came intothe bank, Neale--Hollis came up North on a holiday. He was a bit of anarchæologist; he was looking round the old towns, and he took Scarnhamin his itinerary. Knowing that an old schoolmate of his was manager atChestermarke's Bank in Scarnham, he called in to see me. He and Ilunched together at the Scarnham Arms. I showed him round the town abit, after bank hours. And as we were standing in the upper-room windowof the Arms, Gabriel Chestermarke came out of the bank and stood talkingto some person in the Market-Place for awhile. I drew Hollis's attentionto him, and asked, jocularly, if he had ever seen a more remarkable andstriking countenance? He answered that it was one which, once seen, would not readily be forgotten. And he had not forgotten it once he sawthe portrait at Markham's office--he knew very well that it wasextremely unlikely that so noticeable a man as Gabriel Chestermarkecould have a double. 

"Now, Hollis was a sharp fellow. He immediately began to suspect things. He talked awhile with Stipp, and contrived to find out that the portraitover the mantelpiece was that of Godwin Markham. He also found out thatMr. Godwin Markham was rarely to be found at his office--that there wasno such thing as daily, or even weekly attendance there by him. Andafter mutual desires that the Lester affair should be satisfactorilysettled, but without telling Stipp anything about the ten thousandpounds, he left the office with a promise to call a few days later. 

"Next day, certain of what he had discovered, Hollis came down to seeme, and told me all that I have just told you. It did not surprise me asmuch as you would think. I knew that for a great many years GabrielChestermarke had spent practically half his time in London--I had alwaysfelt sure that he had a finger in some business there, and I naturallyconcluded that he had some sort of a _pied-à-terre_ in London as well. One fact had always struck me as peculiar--he never allowed letters tobe sent on to him from Scarnham to London. Anything that required hispersonal attention had to await his return. So that when I heard allthat Hollis had to tell, I was not so greatly astonished. In fact, theone thing that immediately occupied my thoughts was--was JosephChestermarke also concerned in the Godwin Markham money-lendingbusiness? He, too, was constantly away in London--or believed to be so. He, too, never had letters sent on to him. Taking everything intoconsideration, I came to the conclusion that Joseph was in allprobability his uncle's partner in the Conduit Street concern, just ashe was in the bank at home. 

"Hollis and I walked about the paths in the wood for some time, discussing this affair. I asked at last what he proposed to do. Heinquired if I thought the Chestermarkes would be keen about preservingtheir secret. I replied that in my opinion, seeing that they were highlyrespectable country-town bankers, chiefly doing business withultra-respectable folk, they would be very sorry indeed to have it comeout that they were also money-lenders in London, and evidently veryextortionate ones. Hollis then said that that was his own opinion, andit would influence the line he proposed to take. He said that he had acheque in his pocket, already made out for ten thou and pounds, and onlyrequiring filling up with the names of payee and drawer; he would liketo see Gabriel Chestermarke, tell him what he had discovered, offer himthe cheque in full satisfaction of young Lester's liabilities to theMarkham concern, and hint plainly that if his offer of it was notaccepted, he would take steps which would show that Gabriel Chestermarkeand Godwin Markham were one and the same person. 

"Now, I had no objection to this. I had not told you of it, Neale, but Ihad already determined to resign my position as manager atChestermarke's. I had grown tired of it. I was going to resign as soonas I returned from my holiday. So I assented to Hollis's proposal, andoffered to accompany him to the Warren--I don't mind admitting that Iwas a little--perhaps a good deal--eager to see how Gabriel would behavewhen he discovered that his double dealing was found out--and known tome. We therefore set off across Ellersdeane Hollow. I have been toldwhile lying here that some of you found the pipe which you, Betty, gaveme last Christmas, lying near the old tower--quite right. I lost itthere that night, as I was showing Hollis the view, in the moonlight, from the top of the crags. I meant to pick it up as we returned, butwhat happened put it completely out of my mind. 

"Hollis and I crossed the moor and the high road and went into thelittle lane, or carriage-drive, which leads to the Warren. Half-way downit we met Joseph Chestermarke. He was coming away from the Warren--fromthe garden. He, of course, wanted to know if we were going to see hisuncle. I told him that my companion, Mr. Frederick Hollis, a Londonsolicitor, had come specially from town to see Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke, and that, being an old friend of mine, he had first come to see me. Joseph therefore said that we were too late to find his uncle at home:Gabriel, he went on, had been suffering terribly from insomnia, and, byhis doctor's advice, he was trying the effect of a long solitary walkevery night before going to bed, and he had just started out over themoor at the back of his house. Turning to Hollis, he asked if he coulddo anything--was his visit about banking business?

"Now I determined to settle at once the question as to Joseph'sparticipation in the affairs of the Conduit Street concern. BeforeHollis could reply, I spoke. I said, 'Mr. Hollis wishes to see youruncle on the affairs of Lieutenant Lester and the Godwin Markham loans. 'I watched Joseph closely. The moonlight was full on his face. Hestarted--a little. And he gave me a swift, queer look which was gone asquickly as it came--it meant 'So you know!' Then he answered in quite anassured, off-hand manner, 'Oh, I know all about that, of course! I candeal with it as well as my uncle could. Come back across the moor to myhouse--we'll have a drink, and a cigar, and talk it over with Mr. Hollis. '

"I nudged Hollis's arm, and we turned back with Joseph towards Scarnham, crossing the Hollow in another direction, by a track which leadsstraight from a point exactly opposite the Warren to the foot ofScarnham Bridge, near the wall of Joseph Chestermarke's house. It is nota very long way--half an hour's sharp walk. We did not begin talkingbusiness--as a matter of fact, Hollis began talking about the curiousnature of that patch of moorland and about the old lead-mines. And whenwe were nearly half-way, the affair happened which, I suppose, led toall that has happened since. It--gave Joseph Chestermarke an opening. 

"Having lost my pipe, and being now going in a different direction fromthat necessary to recover it, I had nothing to smoke. JosephChestermarke offered me a cigar. He opened his case. I was taking acigar from it when Hollis stepped aside to one of the old shafts whichstood close by, and resting his hands on the parapet leaned over thecoping, either to look down or to drop something down. Before we hadgrasped what he was doing, certainly before either of us could cry outand warn him, the parapet completely collapsed before him and hedisappeared into the mine! He was gone in a second--with just onescream. And after that--we heard nothing. 

"We hurried to the place and got as near as we dared. JosephChestermarke dropped on his hands and knees, and peered over andlistened. There was not a sound--except the occasional dropping ofloosened pebbles. And we both knew that in that drop of seventy oreighty feet, Hollis must certainly have met his death. 

"We hastened away to the town--to summon assistance. I don't think wehad any very clear ideas, except to tell the police, and to see if wecould get one of the fire brigade men to go down. I was in a dreadfulstate about the affair. I felt as though some blame attached to me. Bythe time we reached the bridge I felt like fainting. And Josephsuggested we should go in through his garden door to his workshop--hehad some brandy there, he said--it would revive me. He took me in, upthe garden, and into the workshop: I dropped down on a couch he hadthere, feeling very ill. He went to a side table, mixed something whichlooked--and tasted--like brandy and soda, brought it to me, and bade medrink it right off. I did so--and within I should say a minute, I knewnothing more. 

"The next I knew I awoke in pitch darkness, feeling very ill. It wassome little time before I could gather my wits together. Then Iremembered what had happened. I felt about--I was lying on what appearedto be a couch or small bed, covered with rugs. But there was somethingstrange--apart from the darkness and the silence. Then I discovered thatI was chained!--chained round my waist, and that the chain had otherchains attached to it. I felt along one of them, then along theother--they terminated in rings in a wall. 

"I can't tell you what I felt until daylight came--I knew, however, thatI was at Joseph Chestermarke's--perhaps at Gabriel's--mercy. I haddiscovered their secret--Hollis was out of the way--but what were theygoing to do with me? Oddly enough, though I had always had a secretdislike of Gabriel, and even some sort of fear of him, believing him tobe a cruel and implacable man, it was Joseph that I now feared. It washe who had drugged and trapped me without a doubt. Why? Then Iremembered something else. I had told Joseph--but not Gabriel--about mytemporary custody of Lady Ellersdeane's jewels, and he knew where theywere safely deposited at the bank--in a certain small safe in the strongroom, of which he had a duplicate key. 

"I found myself--when the light came--in a small room, or cell, in whichwas a bed, a table, a chair, a dressing-table, evidently a retreat forJoseph when he was working in his laboratory at night. But I soon sawthat it was also a strong room. I could hear nothing--the silence wasterrible. And--eventually--so was my hunger. I could rise--I could evenpace about a little--but there was no food there--and no water. 

"I don't know how long it was, nor when it was, that Joseph Chestermarkecame. But when he came, he brought his true character with him. I couldnot have believed that any human being could be so callous, so brutal, so coldly indifferent to another's sufferings. I thought as I listenedto him of all I had heard about that ancestor of his who had killed aman in cold blood in the old house at the bank--and I knew that JosephChestermarke would kill me with no more compunction, and no less, thanhe would show in crushing a beetle that crossed his path. 

"His cruelty came out in his frankness. He told me plainly that he hadme in his power. Nobody knew where I was--nobody could get to know. Hisuncle knew nothing of the Hollis affair--no one knew. No one would betold. His uncle, moreover, believed I had run away with convertiblesecurities and Lady Ellersdeane's jewels--he, Joseph, would take carethat he and everybody should continue to think so. And then he told mecynically that he had helped himself to the missing securities and tothe jewels as well--the event of Saturday night, he said, had just givenhim the chance he wanted, and in a few days he would be out of thiscountry and in another, where his great talent as a chemist and aninventor would be valued and put to grand use. But he was not goingempty-handed, not he!--he was going with as much as ever he could raketogether. 

"And it was on that first occasion that he told me what he wanted of me. You know, Neale, that I am trustee for two or three families in thistown. Joseph knew that I held certain securities--deposited in a privatesafe of mine at the bank--which could be converted into cash in, say, London, at an hour's notice. He had already helped himself to them, andhad prepared a document which only needed my signature to enable him todeal with them. That signature would have put nearly a quarter of amillion into his pocket. 

"He used every endeavour to make me sign the paper which he brought. Hesaid that if I would sign, he would leave an ample supply of the bestfood and drink within my reach, and that I should be released withinthirty-six hours, by which time he would be out of England. When Isteadily refused he had recourse to cruelty. Twice he beat me severelywith a dog-whip; another time he assaulted me with hands and feet, likea madman. And then, when he found physical violence was no good, he toldme he would slowly starve me to death. But he was doing that all along. The first three days I had nothing but a little soup and dry bread--theremaining part of the time, nothing but dry bread. And during the lasttwo days, I knew that there was something in that bread which sent meoff into long, continued periods of absolute unconsciousness. And--I wasglad!

"That's all. You know the rest--better than I do. I don't know yet howthat explosion came about. He had been in to me only a few minutesbefore it happened, badgering me again to sign that authority. And--Ifelt myself weakening. Flesh and blood were alike at their end ofendurance. Then--it came! And as I say, that's all!--but there's onething I wanted to ask you. Have those jewels been found?"

"Yes!" replied Neale. "They were found--all safe--in a suit-case inJoseph's house, along with a lot of other valuables--money, securities, and so on. He was evidently about to be off; in fact, the luggage wasall ready, and so was a cab which he'd ordered, and in which he waspresumably going to Ellersdeane. "

"And another thing, " said Horbury, turning from one to the other, "Iheard this morning that you'd left the Bank, Neale. What are you goingto do? What has happened?"

Betty looked at Neale warningly, stooped over the invalid, kissed him, rose and took Neale's unwounded arm. 

"No more talk today, Uncle John!" she commanded. "Wait until tomorrow. Then--if you're very good--we shall perhaps tell you what is going tohappen to--both of us!"

THE END