 Chapter 9 of the Chestermark Instinct. Chestermark's clerks found no difficulty in obtaining access to the bank when they presented themselves at its doors at nine o'clock the next morning. Both partners were already there, and appeared to have been there for some time, and Joseph at once called Neil into the private parlor and drew his attention to a large poster which lay on a side-table, its ink still wet from the printing press. Let Patton put that up in one of the front windows, Neil, he said. It's just come in. I gave the copy for it last night. Read it over. I think it's satisfactory, eh? Neil bent over the big, bold letters, and silently read the announcement. Messer's Chestermark, in view of certain unauthorized rumors, now circulating in the town and neighborhood, 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. To our clients, I mean. Quite clear, I should say, replied Neil. Then get it up at once, before opening hours, and save all the bother of questions, commanded Joseph. And if people do come asking questions, as some of them will, tell them not to bother themselves, nor us, we don't want to waste our time interviewing fools all the morning. Neil took the poster and went out with no further remark, and presently the junior clerk, with the aid of a few wafers, fixed the announcement in the window which looked out on the marketplace, and people began to gather round it and to read it, and, after the usual fashion of country-born folk, they went away to talk about it. In half an hour it was known in every shop and tavern parlor and scarnum marketplace, that despite the town choir's announcement, and the wild rumors of the night before, Chestermark's bank was all right, and the Chestermarks were already speaking of Horbury in the past tense. He was, wherever he might be, no longer the manager of that ancient concern. He was the late manager. At ten o'clock Superintendent Polk, Bluff and Cheery as usual, and Detective Sergeant Starmage, eyeing his new surroundings with appreciative curiosity, strolled round the corner from the police station and approached the bank. Half a dozen loungers were gathered before the window, reading the poster. The two police officials joined them, and also read, in silence. Then, with a look at each other, they turned into the door which Patton had just opened. Neil hurried to the counter to meet them. Well, Mr. Neil, said Polk, as if he had called on the most ordinary business. We'll just have a word with your principals, if they please. A mere interchange of views, you know? We shan't keep them. They don't want bothering, whispered Neil, bending over the counter. Shan't I do instead? No, sir! answered Polk. Nothing but principals will do. Here, Starmage, give Mr. Neil one of your official cards. Neil took the card and disappeared into the parlor, where he laid it before Gabriel. Mr. Polk 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 see them. We may as well see them, and have done with it. Bring them in, Neil. Polk and Starmage, presently entering, found themselves coldly greeted. Gabriel made the slightest inclination of his head in response to Polk's salutation and the detective's bow. Joseph pointedly gave no heed to either. Well—demanded the senior partner. We've just called, Mr. Chestermark, to hear if you have anything to say to us about this matter of Mr. Horbury's, said Polk. Of course, you know it's been put in our hands. Not by us! snapped Gabriel. Quite so, sir, by Lord Ellerstine and by Mr. Horbury's niece, Miss Faustike, assented Polk. The young lady, of course, is naturally anxious about her uncle's safety, and Lord Ellerstine is anxious about the Countess's jewels, and we hear that securities of yours are missing. We haven't told you so, retorted Gabriel. We haven't even approached you, remarked Joseph. Just so, agreed Polk, but under the circumstances. We have nothing to say to you, Superintendent, interrupted Gabriel. We can't help anything that Lord Ellerstine has done, nor anything that Miss Faustike likes to do. Lord Ellerstine is not, and never has been, a customer of ours. Miss Faustike acts independently. If they call you in, as they seem to have done very thoroughly, it's their look out. We haven't. When we want your assistance we will let you know. At present, we don't. He waved one of the white hands toward the door as he spoke, as if to command withdrawal, but Polk lingered. You don't propose to give the police any information then, Mr. Chestermark, he asked quietly. At present, we don't propose to give any information to anybody whom it doesn't concern, replied Gabriel. As regards the mere surface facts of Mr. 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 to discover his whereabouts, sir, inquired Starmage, speaking for the first 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. Starmage bowed and turned away, and Polk, after hesitating a moment, said good morning and followed him from the room. The two men nodded to kneel and went out into the marketplace. Well, said Polk. Queer couple, remarked Starmage. Polk jerked his thumb at the poster in the bank window. Of course, he said, so long as they can satisfy their customers that all's rights so far as they're concerned, we can't get at what is missing that belongs to the Chestermarks. There are ways of finding that out, replied Starmage quietly. What ways now, asked Polk? We can't make him tell us their private affairs. Supposing Horbury has robbed them, they aren't forced to tell us how much, or how little he's robbed him of. All in good time, remarked the detective. We're only beginning. Let's go and talk to this Miss Faustig a bit. She doesn't mind what money she spends on this business, you say? Not if it costs her her last penny, answered Polk. All right, said Starmage. Faustig's entire represents a lot of pennies. We'll just have a word or two with her. Betty, looking out of her window on the marketplace, had seen the two men leave Chestermark's bank and was waiting eagerly for their coming. She listened intently to Polk's account of the interview with the partners, and her cheeks glowed indignantly as he brought it to an end. Shameful, she exclaimed, to make accusations against my uncle and then to refuse to say what they are, but can't you make them say? We'll try in good time, answered Starmage. Slow and steady's the game here, for whatever it is, it's a deep game. Nothing has been heard since I saw you last night, asked Betty anxiously. No one has brought you any news? No news of any sort, Miss, replied Polk. What's to be done then? Next, she inquired, looking from one to the other. Do let us do something. Oh, we'll do a lot, Miss Faustig, before the day's out, said Starmage reassuringly. I'm going to work just now. Now the first thing is, publicity. We must have all this in the newspapers at once. He turned to the superintendent. I suppose there's some journalist here in the town who sends news to the London Press, isn't there, he asked. Parkinson, editor of the Skarnam advisor, he does, replied Polk, with promptitude. He's a sort of reporter editor, you understand, and jolly glad of a bit of extra stuff. That's the first thing, said Starmage. The next, we must have a reward bill printed immediately and circulated broadcast. It must have a 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 to be, Miss Faustig? For you'll have to pay, you know. Anything you like, said Betty eagerly. A thousand pounds? Would that do to begin with? We'll say half of it, answered Starmage. Very good. Now, Mr. Polk, if you'll tell me where this Mr. Parkinson's to be found, and where the best printing office in the place is, I'll go to work. Skarmans are the best printers, and they're quick, said Polk, but I'll come with you. Is there anything I can do, asked Betty, if I could only be doing something? Starmage nodded his comprehension and mused awhile. Just so, he said, you don't want to sit and wait. Well, there is something you might do, Miss Faustig, as your Mr. Horbury's niece. Mr. Polk's been telling me about Mr. Horbury's household arrangements. Now, as you are a relation, suppose you call on his housekeeper, who is the last 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 may get in that way, and—are you Mr. Horbury's nearest relation? Yes, the very nearest, next of kin, answered Betty. Then asked to see his papers, his desk, his private belongings, said Starmage. Demand to see them, you've the legal right, and let us know—you'll always find me somewhere about Mr. Polk's—how you get on. Now, Superintendent, we'll be to work. Outside the skarnom arms, Starmage looked at his companion with a sly smile. Are you anything of a bedding man? he asked. Not much. Odd have crown known then, replied Polk. Why? Lay you a fiver to a shilling, Miss Faustig won't see anything of Horbury's, nor get any information, answered Starmage, more slyly than ever. She won't be allowed. Polk gave the detective a shrewd look. I dare say, he said, whew! It's a queer game, this, Starmage. First moves of it, anyway. Let's get on to the next, Council Starmage. Where's this journalist? Mr. Parkinson, a high-browed, shock-headed young man who combined the duties of editor and reporter with those of advertisement canvasser and business manager of the one four-page sheet which Garnham boasted, received the two police officials in a small office in which there was just room for himself and his visitors to squeeze themselves. I was about coming round to you, Mr. Polk, he said. Can you let me have the facts of this Horbury affair? We've come to save you the trouble, answered Polk. This gentleman, Detective Sergeant Starnham, of the CID, Mr. Parkinson, wants to have a bit of a transaction with you. Parkinson eyed the famous detective with as much wonder as Neil had felt on the previous evening. Oh! he exclaimed. Pleased to meet you, sir. I've heard of you. What can I do for you, Mr. Starmage? Can you wire, at our expense, a full account of all that I shall tell you to a London press agency that'll distribute it amongst all the London papers at once, as Starmage? You know what I mean. I can, answered Parkinson, and principal provincials, too. It'll be in all the evening papers this very night, sir. Then come on, said Starmage, dropping into a chair by the editorial desk. I'll tell you all about it. Polk listened admiringly, while the detective carefully narrated the facts of what was henceforth to be known as the Skarnam mystery. Nothing appeared to have escaped Starmage's observation and attention, and he was surprised to find that the detective's presentation of the case was not that which he himself would have made. Starmage did know more than refer to the fact that Lady Ellerstine's jewels were missing. He said nothing whatever about the rumours that some of Chestermark's securities were said to have disappeared. But on one point he laid great stress. The visit of the little gentleman with the large grey moustache to the station hotel at Skarnam on the very evening whereon John Horbury disappeared, and to the fragments of conversation overheard by Mrs. Pratt. He described the stranger as Mrs. Pratt had described him, and appealed 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 Polk and Parkinson, and wound up by announcing the £500 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 engine the press, Mr. Starmage, I dare say you find it very useful in your walk of life. Starmage followed Polk into the marketplace 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 Faustike, going to have a try at her bit. He pointed down the broad pavement with an amused smile. Betty Faustike, attired in her smartest, was just entering the portals of Chestermark's bank. End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 of the Chestermark Instinct This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by Mirian. The Chestermark Instinct by J. S. Fletcher. Chapter 10 The Chestermark Way Mrs. Carswell herself opened the door of the bank house in response to Miss Faustike's ring. She started a little at the side to the visitor, and her eyes glanced involuntarily and, as it seemed to Betty, with something of uneasiness at the side door which led to the Chestermark's private parlor. And Betty immediately interpreted the meaning of that glance. No, Mrs. Carswell, she said, before the housekeeper could speak. I haven't come to call on either Mr. Gabriel or Mr. Joseph Chestermark. I came to see you. May I come in? Mrs. Carswell stepped back into the hall, and Betty followed. For a moment the two looked at each other, and in the elder woman's eyes there was still the same expression, and it was with obvious uncertainty, if not with positive suspicion, that she waited. You have not heard anything of Mr. Horbury, asked Betty, who was not slow to notice the housekeeper's demeanor. Nothing, replied Mrs. Carswell, with a shake of the head. Nothing at all. No one has told me anything. Betty turned to the door of the dining room. Very well, she said. I daresay you know, Mrs. Carswell, that I am my uncle's nearest relation. Now I want to go through his papers and things. I want to see his desk, his last letters, anything, and everything there is. She laid a hand on the door, and Mrs. Carswell suddenly found her tongue. Oh, Miss, she said in a low frightened voice. You can't. That room's locked up. So is the study where all Mr. Horbury's papers are. So is his bedroom. Mr. Joseph Chestermark locked them all up last night. He has the keys. Nobody's to go into them, nor into any other room, without his permission. Betty's cheeks began to glow, and an obstinate look to settle about her lips. Oh, she exclaimed. But I think I shall have something to say about that, Mrs. Carswell. Ask Mr. Joseph Chestermark to come here a minute. The housekeeper shrunk back. I dare it, Mrs. Faustike, she answered. It would be as much as my place was worth. I thought you were my uncle's housekeeper, suggested, Betty. Aren't you? Or are you employed by Mr. Joseph Chestermark? Come now. Mrs. Carswell hesitated. It was very evident that she was afraid. But of what? So far as I know, continued Betty, this is my uncle's house, and you are his servant. Am I right or wrong, Mrs. Carswell? Right as regards my being engaged by Mr. Horbury, replied the housekeeper. But the house belongs to them. Mr. Horbury, so I understand, 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, I shall 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 going to stand any nonsense. Mrs. Carswell hesitated a little, but in the end she knocked timidly at the private door, and presently Joseph Chestermark opened it, looked out, saw Betty, and came into the hall. He offered his visitor no polite greeting, and for once he forgot his accustomed sneering smile. Instead he gave the housekeeper a swift look which sent her away in haste, and he 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 am his 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 Chestermark, replied Betty. If, supposing, my uncle is dead, I have the right to examine anything he's left. I insist upon it. I insist on seeing his papers, looking through his desk, and at once. No, said Joseph, nothing of the sort. We don't know that you've any right. We don't know that you're his next of kin. We're not legally aware that you're his niece. You say you are, but we don't know 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 you shall soon see whether I am what I say I am. What are you and your uncle implying, suggesting, hinting at, she went on, suddenly letting her naturally hot temper get the better of her? Do you realize what an utterly unworthy part you are playing? You accuse my uncle of being a thief, and you dare not make any specified accusation against him. You charge him with stealing your securities, and you dare not tell the police what securities. I don't believe you've a security missing. Nobody believes it. The police don't believe it. Lord Ellerstine doesn't believe it. Why, your own clerk, Mr. Neal, who ought to know if anybody does, doesn't believe it. You're telling lies, Mr. Joseph Chestermark. There, lies. I'll denounce you to the whole town. I'll expose you. I believe my uncle has met with some foul play, and as sure as I am his niece I'll probe the whole thing to the bottom. Are you going to admit me to those rooms? The door of the private room, which Joseph had left slightly ajar behind him, was pushed open a little, and Gabriel's colorless face looked out. Tell the young woman to go and see a solicitor, he said, and vanished again. Joseph glanced at Betty, who was still staring indignantly at him. You hear, he said quietly, now you'd better go away, you are not going in there. Betty suddenly turned and walked out. She was across the marketplace and at the door of the scarnom arms before her self-possession had come back to her, and she was aware that a gentleman, who had just alighted from a horse which a groom was leading away to the stable yard, was looking and smiling at her. Oh! she exclaimed. Is that you, Lord Ellerstine? I beg your pardon, I was 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 the way upstairs and closed her door on herself and her visitor. No news of my 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 been searching all around Ellerstine, practically all night. We've made inquiries at each of the neighbouring villages, without result. Have the police heard anything? I've only just come into town. You haven't seen Polk, then, said Betty. Oh! well, he heard something last night. She went on to tell the Earl of the meeting with the tinker, and of Mrs. Pratt's account of the mysterious stranger, and of what Starmage was now doing. It all seemed such slow work, she concluded, but I suppose the police can't move any faster. You heard nothing at the bank itself, from the Chestermarks, asked the Earl. I heard sufficient to make me as absent-minded as I was when you met me just now. I went there, as my uncle's nearest relation, with a simple request to see his papers and things, a very natural desire, surely. The Chestermarks have locked up his rooms, and they ordered me out, showed me the door. How very extraordinary, exclaimed the Earl. Really, in so many words. 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 a solicitor, which, of course, she added reflectively, is precisely what I shall do, as they will very soon find. The Earl stepped over to one of the windows and stood for a moment or two, silently looking out on the marketplace. I don't understand this at all, he said at last. What is the meaning of all this reserve on the Chestermarks part? Why didn't they tell the police what securities are missing? Why don't they let you, his niece, examine Horbury's effects? What right have they to fasten up his house? 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 it are his, I'm sure of that, for he and I shared a similar taste in collecting 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 getting more and more uneasy about the whole thing, Miss Vostike, as I'm sure you are. I wonder if the police will find the man who came to the station hotel on Saturday. Now, if they could lay their hands on him and get to know who he was and what he wanted, and if he really met your uncle. The Earl suddenly paused and turned from the window with a glance at Betty. There's young Mr. Neil coming across from the bank, he observed. I think 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 Ellerstine? Straight here, replied the Earl. Perhaps he's got some news. Betty had the door open before Neil could knock at it. He came in with a smile, and glanced half whimsically, half as if he had queer news to give, at the two people who looked so inquiringly at him. Well, demanded Betty, what is it, Wally? Have these two precious principles sent you with news? They're not my principles any longer, answered Neil. He laid down some 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, at Chester marks. They've dismissed me. Lord Ellerstine turned sharply from the window, and Betty indulged in a cry of indignation. Dismissed? You, she exclaimed. Dismissed. With a quarter salary in lieu of notice, laughed Neil, slapping his pocket. I've got it here, in gold. But why, asked Betty? Neil shook his head at her. Because you told old Joseph that I didn't believe them when they said that some of their securities were missing, he answered. You did it! As soon as you'd gone, they had me in, told me that it was contrary to their principles to retain servants who took sides with other people against them, handed me a check, and told me to cash it forthwith and depart, and here I am. You don't seem to mind this very much, Mr. Neil, observed the Earl, looking keenly at this victim of summery treatment. Do you? If your lordship really wants to know, answered Neil, I don't. I'm truly thankful. It's only what would have happened, in another way. I meant to leave Chester marks. If it hadn't been for Mr. Horbury, I should have left ages ago. I hate banking. I hated the life, and I disliked Chester marks immensely. Now I'll go and have a free life somewhere in Canada, or some equally spacious climb, where I can breathe. Not at all, said Betty decidedly. You shall come and be my manager in London. The brewery wants one badly. You shall have a handsome salary, Wally. Much more than you had at that beastly bank. Very kind of you, I'm sure, laughed Neil. But I think I'm inclined to 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 added reflectively. Not that I haven't been a very good servant to Chester marks. I have, but Chester marks are what they are. The Earl, who had been watching the two young people with something of amused interest, suddenly came forward from the window. Mr. Neil, he said. My Lord, responded Neil. What's your honest opinion about your late principles? asked the Earl. Neil shook his head slowly and significantly. I don't know, he answered. Do you know that they've, just now, refused Miss Faustike permission to examine her uncle's belongings, continued the Earl, that they wouldn't even let her enter the house? No, I didn't know, replied Neil. But I'm not surprised. Nothing that those 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. What do you think? Well, said Neil, after a pause, and speaking with unusual gravity. I think the police sought to make a thorough examination of the bank house. I'm surprised it hasn't been thought of before. The Earl picked up his hat. I've been thinking of it all morning, he said. Come, let us all go round to Polk. End of Chapter 10 Chapter 11 of the Chester mark instinct. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Mary Ann. The Chester mark instinct by J. S. Fletcher. Chapter 11. The search warrant. As they turned out of the marketplace into the street leading to the police station, Lord Allerstein and his companions became aware of a curious figure which was slowly proceeding them. That of a very old man whose massive head and long white hair, falling in thick shocks about his neck, was innocent of covering. His tall, erect form was closely wrapped about in a great, many-caped horseman's cloak, which looked as if it had descended to him from some early Georgian ancestor. In one hand he carried along staff, the other clutched an agent folio. All together he was something very much out of the common, and Neil, catching sight of him, nudged Betty Faust Dyke's elbow and pointed ahead. One of the sights of Skarnam, he whispered, old batterly, the antiquary, never seen with a hat, and never without that cloak, his staff, and a book under his arm. Unique and be astonished if he suddenly stops and begins reading his book in the open street. It's a habit of his. But the antiquary apparently had other business. He turned into the police station, and when the three visitors followed him a moment later, he was already in Polk's private office, and Polk and Starmage were gazing speculatively at him. Polk turned to the newcomers, as the old man, having fitted on a pair of large spectacles, recognized the earl and executed a deep bow. Mr. Battery's just called with a suggestion, my lord, observed Polk good-humidly. He's heard of Mr. Horbury's disappearance, and of the loss of your lordship's jewels, and he says that an explanation of the whole thing may be got if we search the bank-house. Thoroughly, said batterly, with a warning shake of his big head. Thoroughly, Thoroughly, Mr. Polk, no use just walking through the rooms and seeing what any housemaid would see. The thing must be done properly. Your lordship, he continued, turning to the earl, knows that many houses in our marketplace possess secret passages, double staircases, and the like. Horbury's house is certainly one of those that do. It has, of course, been modernized. My memory is not quite as good as it was, but I have a recollection that when I was a boy, well, over seventy years ago, I am, as your lordship is aware, near nineteen and eighty. There were hiding-places discovered in the bank-house at the time Matthew Chestermark, grandfather of the present Gabriel, had it altered. In fact, I am quite sure I was taken by my father to see them. Now, of course, many of these places were bricked up and so on, but I think, it is my impression, that a double staircase was left untouched and some recesses in the paneling of the garden room. That garden room, Mr. Polk, if you know what I mean. Mr. Batterly remarked the earl, means the paneled room which looks out on the garden. Mr. Horbury has used it as a study. The garden room, continue the old antiquary, should be particularly examined. It is into that room that the double staircase opens, by a door concealed in the recess at the side of the fireplace. There were, I am sure, recesses behind the paneling in that room. Now, Horbury may have known of them. He had tastes of an antiquarian disposition, in an amateur way, you know. At any rate, Mr. Polk, you should examine the house, and especially that room, for Horbury may have hidden Lord Ellarstein's property there. A deeply interesting room that, out of the old man musingly. I haven't been in it for some sixty years or so, but I remember it quite well. It was in that room that Jasper Chestermark murdered Sir Graves Rudd. Starmitch, who, like the rest of them, had been listening eagerly to Batterly'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 rose from his chair. An ancestor of these Chestermarks, he killed a man in that very room. Well, that's what I suggest, Mr. Polk, and, for another reason. As Lord Ellarstein there knows, being, as his lordship is, a member of our society, the bank house is so old that underneath it there may be such matters as old wells, old drains. Now supposing Horbury had discovered some way under the present house, some secret passage or something, and that he went down into it on Sunday, eh? He may have fallen into one of these places, and be lying there dead, or helpless. It's possible, Mr. Polk, it's quite possible. I make the suggestion to you for what it's worth, you know. The old man bowed himself out and went away, and Polk turned toward Lord Ellarstein and Betty. I'm glad your lordships come in, he said. Quite apart from what Mr. Batterly suggests, we'll have to examine that bank house. It's all nonsense, allowing the Chestermarks to have their own way about everything. It's time we examined Horbury's effects. Starmage turned to Betty. Did you succeed in getting in there, Miss Faustike? He asked. No, replied Betty. Mr. Joseph Chestermark absolutely refused me at Mittens, and his uncle told me to go to a solicitor. Good advice, certainly, remarked Polk dryly. You'd better take it, Miss. But what's Mr. Neal doing here? Mr. Neal, said the Earl, has just been summarily dismissed for—to put it plainly—taking sides with Miss Faustike and myself. Ho, ho! exclaimed Polk. Ah, well, my lord, there's only one thing to be done, and as your lordships in town, let's do it at once. What! asked the Earl. You must come with me before the borough magistrates. They're sitting now, said Polk, and make application for a search warrant. Your lordship will have to swear that you have lost your jewels, and that you have good cause to believe that they may be on the premises occupied lately by Mr. Horbury, in whose care you entrusted them. It's a mere matter of form. We shall get the warrant at once. Then Starmage and I will go and execute it. Miss Faustike, just do what I suggest, if you please. Mr. Neal will take you to Mr. Pellworthy, the solicitor. He was your uncle's solicitor and a friend of his. Tell him all about your visit to the bank this morning. Say that you insist, as necks of kin, on having access to your uncle's belongings. Get Mr. Pellworthy to go with you to the bank. Meet Detective Sergeant Starmage and me outside there in, say, half an hour. Then we'll see what happens. Now, my lord, if you'll come with me, we'll apply for that search warrant. As the Starmage clocks were striking twelve that morning, Gabriel and Joseph Chestermark looked up from their desks to see Shirley's eyes, large with excitement, gazing at them from the threshold of their private parlor. Well demanded the senior partner, and the clerk moved nearer to his principal's desk. Mr. Polk's outside, sir, with the gentleman who came in with him before, announced Shirley. He says he must see you at once, and— There's Mr. Pellworthy, sir, with Miss Faustike. Mr. Pellworthy says, sir, that he must see you at once, too. Gabriel glanced at his nephew, and Joseph spoke without looking up from his writing-pad, as if he knew that his partner was regarding him. Bring them all in, he said. He himself criticized his writing as the four collars 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 took care to speak first. Now, Mr. Pellworthy, he said sharply, what do you want? Pellworthy, an elderly man, looked at Gabriel with as much disapproval as Gabriel had bestowed on him. Mr. Chestermark, he said quietly, Miss Faustike, as next of kin to Mr. John Horbury, my client, desires to see and examine her uncle's effects. As you know very well, she is quite within her rights. I must ask you to give her access to Mr. Horbury's belongings. And what do you want, Mr. Polk? demanded Gabriel. Polk produced a formal-looking document and held it before the banker's eyes. Merely to show you that, Mr. Chestermark, he answered, that's a search warrant, sir. It empowers me and Mr. Starmage here to search. But I needn't read it to you, Mr. Chestermark, I think. I suppose we can go into the house now. Fate spots of color showed themselves on Gabriel's cheeks, and again he turned to his nephew. Joseph, however, did not speak. Instead he turned to the wall at his side and pressed a bell. A moment later a maid-servant opened the private door which communicated with the house and looked inquiringly and a little nervously inside. Joseph frowned at her. I rang twice, he said, that meant Mrs. Carswell sent 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 papers on 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 after that young lady called this morning. She's never come back, sir. Polk, who was standing close to Starmage, quietly nudged the detective's elbow. Both men watched the junior partner, and both saw the first signs of something that was very like doubt and anxiety show in his face. That'll do, he said to the servant. He rose slowly from his desk, put a hand in his pocket and drew out some keys. Without a word, he slightly motioned the visitors to follow him. Out in the hall stood two men who, in spite of their plain clothes, were obviously policemen. Joseph started and turned to Polk. Damn you! he snarled under his breath. Are you going to pester us with your whole crew? Send those fellows off at once. Nothing of the sort, Mr. Chestermark, replied Polk in a similar whisper. I shall bring as many of my men here as I please. It's your own 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 into the private parlor. And Polk, opening the door of the dining-room, ushered his party inside, and then stepped back to the two men who were waiting in the hall. Smithson, he said to one of them, you'll stop at the house door here, inside mine, so as not to attract attention for many customers coming 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 got a quiet job for you. You know the housekeeper here, Mrs. Carswell? She's disappeared. Maybe all right, and it may it. Now, you go out and take a look round for her, and go to the cab stand at the corner of the moot hall, 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. And when you come back, stay inside the house with Smithson. The policeman nodded his comprehension of these instructions and went out, and Polk turned back to the dining-room and closed the door. He looked at star-mage. Now I'm in your hands, he said quietly. You take charge of this. What do you wish to do? One thing particularly at first, answered star-mage, and we can all work at it. Never mind these secret passages and dark corners and holes in the panels at present. We may have a look at these later on. What I do want to find out is, if there is any letter amongst Mr. Horbury's papers making an appointment with him last Saturday evening. To put matters briefly, I want some light on that man who came to the station-hotel on Saturday, and who presumably came to meet Mr. Horbury. I see, said Polk. Good. Then, first? Here's his desk, and its drawers, suggested star-mage. Now, let's all four take a drawer each and see if we can find any such letter. I'm going on the presumption that this stranger came to town to see Mr. Horbury, and that on his arrival he telephoned up to let him know he'd got here. If that presumption is correct, then, in all probability, there had been previous correspondence between them as to the man's visit. If that man came to see Mr. Horbury, remarked the solicitor, why didn't he come straight here to the bank-house? That's just where the mystery lies, sir, replied star-mage. All the mystery of the affair lies in that man coming at all. Let me find out who 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 what would probably make your hair stand on end, he muttered to himself, as he pulled a drawer out of the desk and placed it on a center-table before Betty. Now, Miss Faustike, you get to work on that. For over an hour the four curiously assorted searchers examined the contents of the missing man's desk, of another desk in the study, of certain letter-racks which hung above the mantelpieces in both rooms, of drawers in these rooms, of drawers and small cabinets in his bedroom. Star-mage turned out the pockets of all the clothing he could find, open suitcases, trunks, dressing cases. They found nothing of the nature desired, and just as half-past one came, and Polk was wondering what Star-mage would do next, Jones came back and called him into the inner hall. I've got some news of her, he whispered. She's off, from Skarnam anyway, sir. I couldn't get any word of her in the town, nor at the cab-places. In fact, it's only within the last five minutes that I've got it. Well, demanded Polk eagerly, and what is it? Young Mitchell, who has a taxicab of his own, you know, said Jones. He told me, heard I was inquiring. He says that at half-past ten, just as he was coming out of his shed in River Street, Mrs. Carswell came up and asked him to drive her to Ecclesboro. He did, and they got there at half-past eleven. He set her down at the exchange station, then he came back, alone, so she's got two hours' good start, sir, if she's really off. End of Chapter 11 CHAPTER 12 THE FIRST FIND Polk took a step or two on the pavement outside the bank, meditating on this latest development of a matter that was hourly growing in mystery. Why had this woman suddenly disappeared? Had she merely gone to Ecclesboro for the day, or had she made it her first stage in a further journey? Why had she taken a taxicab for an eighteen miles' ride at considerable expense, when, at twelve o'clock, she could have got a train which would have carried her to Ecclesboro for fifteen pence? 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 Ecclesboro, too, a place with a population of half a million, where there were three big railway stations, from any one of which a fugitive could set off east, west, north, south, at pleasure and with no risk of attracting attention. Two hours. Polk knew from long experience what could be done in two hours by a criminal escaping from justice. He turned back to speak to his man, and as he turned, Joseph Chestermark came out of the bank. Joseph gave him an insolence stare, and was about to pass him without recognition, but Polk stopped him. Mr. Chestermark, 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. Do your own work. He passed on, crossing the marketplace to the Skarnam arms, and Polk, after gazing at him in silence for a moment, back into his policeman. Come inside, Jones, he said. He led the way into the house and through the hall to kitchens at the back, where two women servants stood whispering together. Polk held up a finger to the one who had answered Joseph Chestermark's summons to the parlor that morning. Here, he said, a word with you. Now exactly when did Mrs. Carswell go out? You needn't be afraid of speaking, my girl. It'll go no further, and you know who I am. Not so very long after that young lady was here, Mr. Polk, answered the girl, readily enough, within, oh, a quarter of an hour at the most. Did she say where she was going? To either of you, asked Polk. No, sir, not a word. To neither of us, said the other, an older woman, drawing near. She just went, Mr. Polk. Had any message, telegram or ought of that sort come for her, asked Polk, had anybody been to see her? There were no messages that I know of, said the housemaid, but Mr. Joseph came to speak to her. When demanded Polk? 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 elder woman. Of course, Mr. Polk, we didn't hear not, but we saw him. What happened after that? asked Polk. Not, but that Mr. Joseph went away, and she came back in here for a minute or two, and then went upstairs. And next thing she came down dressed up and went out. She said nothing to us, replied the woman. You saw her go out, said Polk. Both women pointed to the passage which communicated with the hall. When this door's open, as it was, said one, you can see right through. Yes, we saw her go through the hall door. Of course we thought she'd just slipped out into the town for something. Polk hesitated and meditated. What use was it at that juncture to ask for more particular details of this evident flight? Mrs. Carswell was probably well away from Ecclesborough by this time. He turned back to the hall and then looked at the women again. I suppose neither of you ever saw or heard odd of Mr. Horber on Saturday night. After he'd gone out, he inquired. The two women glanced at each other in silence. Did you, repeated Polk, come now? Well, Mr. Polk, said the elder woman. We didn't, but, of course, we know what's going on. Couldn't very well not know, now could we, Mr. Polk? And we can tell you something that may have to do with things. Out with it then, commanded Polk, keep nothing back. Well, said the woman, there was somebody stirring about this house in the middle of Saturday night between, say, one and two o'clock in the morning. Sunday morning, of course. Both me and Jane here heard them, quite plain. And we thought not of it then. Least ways what we did think was that it was Mr. Horbury. He often came in very late. But when we found out next morning that he'd never come home, why, then we did think it was queer that we'd heard noises. Did you mention that to Mrs. Carswell, asked Polk? Of course, but she said she'd heard nothing and it must have been rats, 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 door shut, twice, plain as I'm speaking to you, Mr. Polk. Polk 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 Faustach a nice cup of tea into the study. Send us all one. We can't leave what we're doing just yet. And a mouthful of bread and butter with it. Come along, Jones. He continued, leading the constable away. Here, you step round to old Mr. Batterleys. You know where he lives. Near the castle. Mr. Polk's compliments and, would he be so good as to come to the bank house and help us a bit? He'll know what I mean. Bring him back with you. The constable went away and Polk, after rubbing one of his mutton chop whiskers for a while with an air of great abstraction, returned to the study. There, Mr. Pellworthy and Betty Faustach were talking earnestly in one of the window recesses. Starmage, at the furthest end of the room, was examining the old oak paneling. I've sent for Mr. Batterleys to give us a hand, said Polk. I suppose we'd best examine this room in the way he suggested. Starmage betrayed no enthusiasm. If he can do any good, he answered, but I don't attach much importance 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 a minute, Miss Faustach, said Polk. We'll all have to put our dinner off a bit, I reckon. He motioned to the detective to follow him out of the room. Here's a nice go, he whispered. The housekeeper's off, bolted, without a doubt, and she's got a clear start, too. Starmage 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, replied Polk, ruefully. I found out that much. Drove off in a taxicap to Ecclesborough as soon as Miss Faustach had been here this morning, and, mark you, after a few minutes' conversation with Joseph Chestermark. Ecclesborough, indeed. Might as well look for a drop of water in the ocean as for one woman in Ecclesborough. She was set down at the exchange station. Why, she may be halfway to London or Liverpool or a hall by now. Starmage was listening intently, and passing over the superintendent's opinions and regrets, he fastened on his facts. After a few minutes' conversation with Joseph Chestermark, you say, he observed. How do you know that? The servants told me just now, replied Polk. Starmage glanced at the door of the private parlor. He's gone out, said Polk. Just then the door opened and Gabriel emerged, closing and locking it after him. He paid no attention to the two men and was passing on towards the outer hall when Polk hailed him. Mr. Chestermark, he said. Sorry to trouble you. Do you know that the housekeeper, Mrs. Carswell, has disappeared? You heard what that girl said 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 if you'll confine your very unnecessary operations to the interior of the house and not stand about this outer hall, or keep this door open between outer and inner halls. I don't want my customers interfered with as they come and go. With that the senior partner passed on, and Starmage smiled at his companion. I'm glad he interrupted you, all the same, Mr. Polk, he said. I'm afraid you're going to say that you knew this woman had gone in a hurry to Ecclesborough. No, I wasn't, replied Polk. I told him what I did because I wanted to know what he'd say. Well, you heard, said Starmage, and what's to be done now. That woman's conduct is very suspicious. I think if I were you, Mr. Polk, I should get in touch with the Ecclesborough police. Why not? No harm done. Why not call them up, give them a description of her, and ask them to keep their eyes open? She may have left Ecclesborough, may intend leaving, for, look here, he drew Polk further away from the two doors between which they were standing, and lowered his voice to a whisper. Supposing, he went on, supposing there is any secret understanding between this Mrs. Carswell and Joseph Chestermark, and it looks like it if she went off immediately after a conversation with him. She may have gone to Ecclesborough simply so that they could meet there, safely, later on, eh? Good notion, agreed Polk. Well, we can watch him. I'm beginning to think we must watch him, thought so for the last two hours, said Starmage. But in the meantime, why not put the Ecclesborough police onto keeping their eyes open for her? Can you give them a good description? Know her as well as I know my own wife, by sight, answered Polk, and her style of dressing, too. All right, I'll go down and do it now. Well, there'll be Mr. Batterley coming along in a few minutes. Jones has gone for him. If he can show you any of their secret places he talked about. He's here, said Starmage, as the old antiquary in the constable entered the hall. All right, I'll attend to him. But when Polk had gone, and Batterley had been conducted into the study, or garden-room, as he insisted on calling it, Starmage left the old man with Mr. Pelworthy and Betty and made an excuse to go out of the room after the housemaid who had just brought in the tea for which Polk had asked. He caught her at the foot of the staircase and treated her to one of his most ingratiating smiles. I say, he said, Mr. Polk's just been telling me about what you and the cook told him about Mrs. Carswell. You know. Now, I say, you needn't say anything except a 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 of these delightful proceedings, came forward. Both accompanied Starmage upstairs to show him the room he wanted, and Starmage thanked them profusely and in his best manner, after which he turned them politely out and locked the door. Meanwhile, Polk went to the police station and rang up the Ecclesboro police on the telephone. He gave them a full, accurate and precise description of Mrs. Carswell and a detailed account of her doings that morning and begged them to make inquiry at the three great stations in their town. The man, with whom he held conversation, calmly remarked that as each station at Ecclesboro dealt with a few thousand of separate individuals every day, it was not very likely that booking clerks or platform officials would remember any particular persons, and Polk sorrowfully agreed with him. Nevertheless, he begged him to do his best. The far-off partner in this interchange of remarks answered that they would do a lot better if Mr. Polk would tell them something rather more definite. Polk gave it up at that and went off into the marketplace again to return to the bank. But before he reached the bank he ran across Lord Ellerstine, who, hanging about the town to hear some results of the search, had been lunching at the Skarnham Club and now came out of its door. Any news so far asked the Earl. Polk glanced round to see that nobody was within hearing. He and Lord Ellerstine stepped within the doorway of the clubhouse. Polk narrated the story of the various happenings since the granting of the search warrant and the Earl's face grew graver and graver. Mr. Polk, he said at last, I do not like what I am hearing about all this. It's a most suspicious thing that the housekeeper should disappear immediately after Miss Faustach's first call this morning, and that she should have had some conversation with Mr. Joseph Chestermark before she went. Really, one dislikes to have to say it of one's neighbours and of persons of the standing of the Chestermarks, but their behaviour is—is— Suspicious, my Lord. Suspicious, said Polk. There's no denying it, and yet there what you might call so defiant, so brazen-faced and insolent that— Here's your London man, interrupted the Earl. What is he after now? Starmage came out of the door of the bankhouse alone. He caught sight of Polk and Lord Ellerstine, smiled and hurried towards them. He carried something loosely wrapped in brown paper in his hand, as he stepped into the doorway of the clubhouse he took the wrapping off and showed a small, Morocco-covered box on which was a coronet in gold. Does your Lordship recognise that? he asked. My wife's jewel casket, of course, exclaimed the Earl. Of course it is. Bless me. Where did you find it? In the chimney, in Mrs. Carswell's bedroom, and Starmage, with a grimace at Polk, it's empty. CHAPTER XIII. THE PARTNER'S UNBEND. The Earl took the empty casket from the detective's hand and looked at it, 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, answered Starmage promptly. We must be after the housekeeper. You found this in her room, asked Polk, 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 put that behind the back of the grate, a favourite hiding-place. I say she, but of course someone else may have put it there. Still, we must find her. You telephoned to the police at Ecclesborough, superintendent? I, and got small comfort, answered Polk. It's a stiff job looking for one woman amongst half a million people. She wouldn't stop in Ecclesborough, said Starmage. She'll be on her way further afield now. You can get anywhere from Ecclesborough, of course. Of course, assented Polk. She would be in any one of half a dozen big towns within a couple of hours, in some of them within an hour, in London itself within three. This'll be another case of printing a description. 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, observed Starmage. We've got to take things as they come. Well, there's one thing that can be done now, he went on, looking at the Earl. If your lordship will be kind enough to do it. I'll do anything that I can, replied Lord Ellersdine. What is it? If your lordship would just make a call on the two Mr. Chestermarks, suggested Starmage. To tell them, of course, of that, he added, pointing to the empty casket. Your lordship will get some attention, I suppose. They won't give any attention to Polk or myself. If your lordship would just tell them that your casket, emptied of its valuable contents, had them found hidden in Mrs. Carswell's room, perhaps they'll listen and, what is much more important, give you their views of the matter. I, concluded Starmage dryly, should very much like to hear them. The Earl made a rye face. Oh, all right, he answered. If I must, I must. It's not a job that appeals to me, but very well. I'll go now. And we, said Starmage, turning to Polk, had better join the others and see if the old antiquary gentleman has found any of these secret places he talked of. Lord Ellersdine found no difficulty in obtaining access to the partners. He was shown into their room with all due ceremony as soon as surely announced him. He found them evidently relaxing a little after their lunch, from which they had just returned. They were standing in characteristic attitudes, Gabriel smoking a cigar, both upright on the hearth rug beneath the portrait of his ancestor, Joseph toying with a scented cigarette, leaning against the window which looked out on the garden. 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 to Mr. Horbury. It is, as you see, empty. It has just been found by the Scotland yard man, Starmage. Gabriel glanced at the casket with some interest. Joseph with none. Neither spoke. In the housekeeper's room, hidden in her fireplace, continued the Earl 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 tell us, naturally. Not for a moment, said Joseph. We felt at once that you had given the jewels to Horbury. The Earl set the casket down on Gabriel's desk and looked a little uncertain and uncomfortable. Gabriel indicated the chair which he had politely 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. A sudden impression crossed his mind. Never, he thought, were there two men from whom it was so difficult to get a word as these chester marks, 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, replied Gabriel, as to its being queer. Well, all this is queer. And, all of appease, remarked Joseph. The Earl was glad that the junior partner made that remark and he turned to him. I understand you saw her and spoke to her just before she left. This morning, he said hesitatingly, did she give you the impression of being, shall we say, uneasy? I certainly saw her and spoke to her, asserted Joseph. I went to scold her. I had given her orders that no one was to be allowed access to certain rooms in the house and that we were not to be bothered by callers. She fetched me out to see Miss Faustike. I went to scold her for that. We had our reasons for not permitting access to those rooms. They have, of course, been frustrated. But at any rate some goods come of it, observed the Earl pointing to 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 answered readily. I should think, he replied, that she's gone to meet Horbury. The Earl started, glensing keenly from one partner to the other. Then you still think that Horbury is guilty of dishonesty, he exclaimed. Really, I—dear me, such an absolutely upright, honorable man. Surface, said Joseph quietly. Surface, on the surface, my lord. The Earl's face flushed a little with palpable displeasure and he turned from the junior to the senior partner. Very good of your lordship, said Gabriel, with the faintest suggestion of a smile. But a man's honesty is bounded by his necessity. We, of course, 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 we don't mind giving your lordship a little—just a little— information. There is no doubt that Horbury had, for some time past, engaged in speculation 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 mere fact is enough. Of course, no man in his position has any right to speculate. Had we known that he speculated? He would have been discharged from our service, said Joseph. No banker can retain the services of a manager who— gambles. The Earl began to feel almost as uncomfortable as if these two men were charging him with improper transactions. He was a man of simple mind and ideas, and he supposed the Chestermarks knew what they were talking about. 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. Bank managers enjoy vast opportunities of stealing, my lord, and the man who is best trusted has more opportunities than the man who's watched. We never 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't know any such person from the description. But we have no doubt he did meet Horbury, and that his visit had something—probably everything—to do with Horbury's disappearance. But how could he disappear, asked the Earl? I mean to say, how could such a well-known man disappear so completely without anybody knowing of it? It seems impossible. If your lordship will think for a moment, said Joseph, you will see that it is not merely not impossible, but very easy. Horbury was a great pedestrian. He used to boast of his thirty and forty mile walks. Now we are well within twenty miles of Ecclesborough. Ecclesborough is a very big town. What was there to prevent Horbury, during Saturday night, from walking across country to Ecclesborough? Nothing. If after interviewing that strange man he decided to clear out at once, he had nothing to do but set off over a very lonely stretch of country, every inch of which he knew, to Ecclesborough. He would be in Ecclesborough by an early hour in the morning. Now in Ecclesborough there are three stations, big stations. He could get away from any one of them. What booking clerk or railway official would pay any particular attention to him? The thing is ridiculously easy. What if the other man, asked the Earl, if there were two men, together, at an early hour, eh? They need not have caught a train at a very early hour, replied Joseph. They need not have been together when they caught any train. I don't say they went together. I don't say they went to Ecclesborough. I don't say they caught a train. I only say what. It must be obvious. They easily could do without attracting attention. The fact of Horbury's disappearance is unchallengeable, remarked Gabriel quietly. We know why he disappeared. I should think, said Joseph still more quietly, that Lord Ellersdine 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 the house then, he asked? To see if they could get any clue to his disappearance, replied the Earl. And they found that, retorted Joseph. In the housekeeper's room, said the Earl, she may have appropriated the jewels. I think your lordship must see that that is very unlikely, without collusion between Horbury and herself, remarked Gabriel. Mrs. Carswell, said Joseph, has always been more or less of a mysterious person. I don't even know where Horbury got her from, but the probability is that they were in collusion, and that when he went, she stayed behind, to ascertain how things turned out on his disappearance, and that she fled when it began to appear that searching inquiries were to be made into which she might be drawn. The Earl made no reply. He recognized that the Chestermark observations and suggestions were rather more than plausible, and much as he fought against the idea of the missing manager's dishonesty, he could not deny that 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 to do anything yourselves, Chestermark? You told me, you know, that certain securities of yours were missing. Gabriel glanced at his nephew, and Joseph nodded. Oh well, answered Gabriel, we don't mind telling your lordship, and if your lordship pleases, you may tell the police. We are doing something. We have, in fact, been doing something from an early hour. We have a very clever man at work just now. He has been at work since he heard from us 24 hours ago, but our ideas are not those of Polk. Polk begins his inquiries here. Our inquiries, based on our knowledge, 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, asserted Gabriel. But, of course, what we do need not interfere with anything that your lordship does, or that Ms. Faustach 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 will result. You don't believe in searching about here, then? Let Polk and his men have their way, my lord, replied Gabriel, with a wave of his hand. My impression of police methods is that those who follow them can only follow that particular path. We are not looking for Horbury. Here. He's elsewhere. So by this time are your lordship's jewels, added Joseph significantly. They, one may be sure, are not going to be found in or about Skarnam. The Earl said good day and went out, troubled and wondering. In the hall he met the search-party. Mr. Batterley had failed to find anything in the way of secret stares or passages or openings beyond those already known to the occupants, and though he was still confident that they existed, the police had wound up their present investigations to turn to more palpable things. Polk and the detective listened to the Earl's account of his interview, and the superintendent sniffed at the mention of the inquiries instituted by the partners. Ah! he said incredulously. Just so. Private inquiry agent, no doubt. All right. Let them do what they like. But we're going to do what we like, my lord, and what we do will be on very different lines. First thing now. We want that woman. End of Chapter 13 Chapter 14 of the Chestermark Instinct The slipper-box recording is in the public domain. Recording by Marianne. The Chestermark Instinct by J. S. Fletcher. Chapter 14 The Midnight Summons The search party separated outside the bank, not too well satisfied with the result of its labors. The old antiquary walked away obviously nettle that he was not allowed to pursue his investigations further. Betty Faustig and the solicitor went across to the hotel in deep conference. The Earl accompanied Starmage and Polk to the police station. And there the detective laid down a firm outline of the next immediate procedure. It was of no use to half-do things, he said. They must rouse wholesale attention. Once more the press must be made use of. The sudden disappearance of Mrs. Carswell must be noised abroad in the next morning's papers. A police notice describing her must be got out and sent all over the kingdom. And, last, but certainly not least, Lord Ellerstine must offer a substantial reward for the recovery of, or news of, his missing property. Let the Chestermarks adopt their own method, if they had any, of finding the alleged absconding manager. He, Starmage, preferred to solve these mysteries by ways of his own. It was growing near to dusk when all their necessary arrangements had been made, and Starmage was free to seek his long-delayed dinner. He had put himself up, of his own choice, in a quiet and old-fashioned inn near the police station, where he had engaged a couple of rooms and found a landlady to his liking. He repaired to this retreat now, and ate and drank in quiet, and smoked a peaceful pipe afterwards, and was glad of 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 he went out into the streets and sought the ancient corner of Skarnam, which was called Corn Market. Starmage wanted to take a look at the house in which Joseph Chestermark spent his bachelor existence. Since his own arrival in the town he had been learning all he could about the two Chestermarks, and he was puzzled about them. For a man who was still young Starmage had seen a good deal of the queer side of life and had known a good many strange people. But so far he had never come across two such apparently curious characters as the uncle and nephew who ran the old-fashioned bank. Their evident indifference to public opinion puzzled him. He could not understand their ice-cold defiance of what he himself called law. He never remembered being treated as they had treated him. For Starmage, when on duty, considered himself as much the representative of justice as any ermined and coiffed judge could be, and he had been accustomed, so far, to attentive and respectful consideration. But neither Gabriel nor Joseph Chestermark appeared to have any proper appreciation of the dignity of a detective sergeant of the Criminal Investigation Department, and their eyes had regarded him as if he were something very inferior indeed. Starmage, though by no means a vain man, felt netled by such treatment, and he accordingly formed something very like a prejudice against the two partners. That prejudice was quickly followed by suspicion, especially in the case of Joseph Chestermark. According to Starmage's ideas, the bankers, if they really believed Horbury to have absconded, if certain securities of theirs really were missing, if they really thought that Horbury had carried them off, and the countess of Ellarstein's jewels with them, ought to have placed every information in their power at the disposal of the police. It was suspicious, and strange, and not at all proper, that they didn't. And it was suspicious, too, that the housekeeper, Mrs. Carswell, should take herself off after a brief exchange of words with Joseph. It looked very much as if the junior partner had either warned her to go, or had told her to go. Why had she gone then, when she might have gone before, and why in such haste? Clearly, considering everything, there were grounds for believing that there was some secret between Mrs. Carswell and Joseph Chestermark. Anyway, rightly or wrongly, Starmage was suspicious of the junior partner in Chestermark's bank, and he wanted to know everything that he could find out about him. He had already learnt that Joseph, like his uncle, was a confirmed bachelor, and lived in an old house at the corner of Cornmarket. Somewhat, so far as the townfolk could judge, after the fashion of a hermit. Starmage would have given a good deal for a really good excuse to call on Joseph Chestermark at that house, so that he might see the inside of it. Indeed, if he had only met with a better reception at the bank, he would have invented such an excuse. But if Gabriel was easily standoffish, Joseph was openly sneering and contemptuous, and the detective knew that no excuse would give him admittance. There was the outside. He would look at that. Starmage was a young man of ideas as well as of ability, and without exactly shaping his thought in so many words, he felt, vaguely perhaps, but nonetheless strongly, that just as you can size up some men by the clothes they wear, so you can get an idea of others by the outer look of the houses which shelter them. Cornmarket in Skarnam lay called Finkelway. It was a queer open space which sloped downhill from the centre of the ridge on which the middle of the town was built to the valley through which the little river meandered. Save were the streets and the road leading out to the open country and Ellersteen cut into it, it was completely enclosed by old houses of the sort which Starmage had already admired in the marketplace. Many of them half-timbered, all of them very ancient. One or two of them were inns. Some were evidently workmen's cottages. Others were better-class dwelling-houses. From the description already furnished to him by Polk, Starmage at once recognised Joseph Chestermark's abode. It was a corner-house, a butting on the road which ran out at the lower angle of this irregular space and led down to the river and Skarnam Bridge. It was by far the biggest house thereabouts. A tall, slender, stone-built house of many stories towering high above any of the surrounding gables. And save were a very faint, dull glow which shone through the transom window of the front door, there was not a fistage of light in a single window of the seven stories. Cornmarket was a gloomy commonplace, thought Starmage. But the little oil lamps in the cottages were riotously cheery in comparison to the darkness of the tall, gaunt Chestermark mansion. It looked like the abode of dead men. Starmage long to knock at that door if only to get a peep inside the hall. But he curbed his desires and went quietly round the corner of the house. There was a high, black wall there which led down to the grassy bank of the river. From its corner another wall ran along the riverside, separated from the stream by a path. But there was a door such in this wall and Starmage, after carefully looking round in the gloom, quietly tried it and found it securely locked. An intense desire to see the inside of Joseph Chestermark's garden seized the detective. Near the door, partly overhanging the garden wall, partly overshadowing the path in the river bank, was a tree. Starmage, after listening carefully and deciding that no one was coming made shift to climb that tree, just then bursting into full leaf. In another minute he was amongst its middle branches, and peering inquisitively into the garden which lay between him and the gaunt outline 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 Starmage saw that the garden was of considerable size, raining back quite sixty yards from the rear across, and having a corresponding breath. Like all the gardens which stretched from the backs of the marketplace houses to the river bank it was rich in trees. High elms and beaches rose from its lawns, and made deep shadows across them. But Starmage was not so much interested in those trees, fine as they were, as in a building, obviously modern, which was set in their midst, completely isolated, that it was a comparatively new building he could see. The moon-beams falling full on it show that the stone of which it was built was fresh and unstained by time or smoke. But what was it? Of what nature? For what purpose? It was neither stable nor coach-house nor summer-house, nor a grouping of domestic offices. No drive or path led to it. It was built in the middle of a grass plot. Round it ran a stone-lined trench. Its architecture was plain, but handsome. It possessed two distinctive features which the detective was quick to notice. One was that, at any rate on the two sides which he could see, its windows were set at a height of quite twelve feet from the ground. The other, that from its flat, parapeted roof rose a conical structure something like the rounded stacks of glass foundries and potteries. This was obviously a chimney and from its mouth at that moment was emerging a slight column of smoke which threw back curiously colored reflections, blue and yellow and red, to the moonlight which fell on its thickening spirals. Starmage felt just as much desire to get into this queer structure as into the house behind it and if he could have seen any prospect of taking a peep through its windows he would have risked detection and dropped from his perch into the garden. But he judged that if the windows were twelve feet from the ground on the two sides of the building which he could see they would be the same height on the sides which he couldn't see. Moreover, he observed that they were obscured by either dull red glass or red curtains. Clearly no outsider was intended to get a peep into this temple of mystery. What was it? What went on within it? He was about to climb down from the tree when he got some sort of answer to these questions. From within the building, muffled by the evidently thick walls, came the faintest sound of metal beating on metal, a mere rippling, tinkling sound, light and musical, such as might have been made by fairy blacksmiths beating on a fairy anvil. But far away as it sounded it was clear and unmistakable. Starmage regained the path between the wall and the river and went slowly forward. The place, he decided, was evidently some sort of a workshop in which was a forge. Probably Joseph Chestermark amused himself with the little amateur work in metals. He thought no more of the matter just then. He wanted to explore the river bank along which he now walked. For according to the story of the landlady at the station hotel it was on that river bank that the mysterious stranger was to meet whoever it was that he spoke to over the telephone. And so far Starmage had not had an opportunity of examining its geography. There was not much to examine. The river, a mere ditch, eight or ten yards in breadth, wandered through a level mead at the base of the valley, separated from the gardens by a wide path. Between Skarnam Bridge at the foot of Corn Market and the corner of Joseph Chestermark's big garden and the end of Cordmaker's Alley a narrow street which ran down from the further end of the market place to the riverside. There were no features of any note or interest. On the other side of the river lay the deep woods through which Neil and Betty Faustik had passed on their way to Ellersdine Hollow. Starmage had heard all about that expedition and he glanced curiously at the black depths of the trees wondering if John Horbury and the mysterious stranger supposing they had met had turned into these woods to hold their conference. He presently came to the footbridge by which access to the woods and the other bank of the river was gained and by it he lingered for a moment or two looking at it in its bearings to the bankhouse garden and orchard on his left and to the station hotel 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 to stroll along the riverbank from the hotel. Horbury had only to step out of his orchard and meet him. Once together they had only to cross that footbridge into the woods to be immediately in surroundings of great privacy. Starmage turned up Cordmaker's Alley, regained the marketplace and strolled on to Polk's private house. The superintendent was taking his ease after his day's labors and reading the Ecclesborough Evening papers. 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 of both Horbury and the station hotel stranger. Smart work, eh? Power of the press, as Parkinson said, answered Starmage with a laugh. It's very useful, the press. I don't know how they managed without it in the old days of criminal catching Mr. Polk. Press and telegraph, eh? They're valuable adjuncts. You think all that would be in the London papers this evening, asked Polk? Sure to be, replied Starmage. I'm hoping we'll hear something from London tomorrow. I say. I've been taking a bit of a look around one or two places tonight. Quietly, you know. What's that curious building in Joseph Chestermark's garden? Polk put down his paper and looked up unusually interested. I don't know, he answered. How did you see it? I've never seen inside his garden. Climbed a tree on the river bank and looked over the wall, replied Starmage. Well, said Polk, I did hear, some few years ago, that he was building something in that garden, but the work was done by Ecclesborough contractors, and nobody seemed ever to know much about it here. I believe Joseph's a bit of an amateur experimenter, but I don't know what he experiments in. Nobody ever goes inside his house. He's a hermit. He's got some sort of forge there, anyhow, said Starmage, or a furnace, or something of that sort. Then they talked of other things until half past ten, when the detective retired to his inn and went to bed. He was sleeping soundly when a steady knocking at his door roused him to hear the voice of his landlady outside. At the same time he heard the big clock sound. Mr. Starmage, said the voice, there's a policeman wanting you, will you go round at once to Mr. Polk's? There's a man come from London about that piece in the newspapers. End of Chapter 14 Chapter 15 of the Chestermark Instinct This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by Miriam. The Chestermark Instinct by J.S. Fletcher Chapter 15 Mr. Frederick Hollis Starmage hastily pulled some garments about him and flinging a travelling coat over his shoulders, hurried downstairs to find a sleepy-looking policeman in the hall. How did this man get here at this time of night, he asked, as they set off towards the police station? Came in a taxi cab from Ecclesborough, answered the policeman. I haven't heard any particulars, Mr. Starmage, except that he'd read the news in the London paper this evening and set off hearing consequence. He's in Mr. Polk's house, sir. Starmage walked into the superintendent's parlor to find him in company with a young man whom the detective at once sized up as a typical London clerk. A second glance assured him that his clerkship was of the legal variety. Here's Detective Sergeant Starmage, said Polk. Starmage, this gentleman's Mr. Simmons from London. Mr. Simmons says he's clerk to a Mr. Hollis, a London solicitor, and, having read that description in the papers this last evening, he's certain that the man who came to the station hotel here on Saturday is his governor. Starmage 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 Starmage? 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. In the ordinary course he ought to have been at business first thing yesterday. We'd some very important business on yesterday's morning which wasn't done because of his absence. He never turned up yesterday at all, nor today either. We never heard from or of him. And so, when I read that description in the papers this evening, I caught the first express I could get down here, at least to Ecclesborough, I had to motor from there. That description describes Mr. Hollis, then, asked Starmage. Exactly. I'm sure it's Mr. Hollis. It's him to a T, answered the clerk. I recognized it at once. Let's get everything in order, said Starmage, with a glance at Polk. To begin with, who is Mr. Hollis? Mr. Frederick Hollis, solicitor. 59B South Square, Grey's Inn, replied summons promptly. Andwell and Hollis is the name of the firm, but there isn't any Andwell. Hasn't been for many a year. He's dead long since, as Andwell. Mr. Hollis is the only proprietor. Don't know him at all, remarked Starmage. What's his particular line of practice? Convancing, said Simmons. Then naturally I shouldn't observe Starmage. My acquaintance is chiefly with police court solicitors. And you say he'd private room somewhere? Where now? Paper buildings, temple, replied the clerk. He'd a suite of rooms there. He's had them for years. Bachelor then, inquired the detective. Yes, he's a bachelor, agreed Simmons. You know he hasn't been at his room since Saturday. In that, continued Starmage. He's never been at his rooms since he left them after breakfast on Saturday morning, replied Simmons. I went there at eleven o'clock Monday, that was yesterday, again at four, twice on Tuesday. I was coming away from the temple when I got the paper and read about this affair. When did you see him last? asked Starmage. Half past twelve Saturday. He went out, dressed just as it says in your description, and concluded the clerk with a shake of his head, which suggested his own inability to understand matters. He never said a word to me about coming down here. Did he say anything to anybody at his rooms about going away? For the weekend, for instance, asked the detective. There'd be somebody there, of course. Only a woman who tidied up for him and got his breakfast ready of a morning, said Simmons. He took all his other meals out. No, he said nothing to her. But he wasn't a week-ender. He very rarely left his rooms except for the office. Any of his relations been after him, inquired Starmage? 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'd have gone to seek him on Monday. Everything's at a standstill. He was a lonely sort of man. I never heard of his relations or friends. How long have you been with him, then? asked the detective. Some time? Six years, replied Simmons. And you've no doubt, from the description in the papers, that the gentleman who came here on Saturday last is Mr. Hollis, asked Starmage. The clerk shook his head with an air of conviction. None, he answered, none whatever. Starmage helped himself to a cigar out of an open box which lay on Polk's table. He lighted it carefully and smoked it for a minute or two. In silence. Then he looked at Polk. Well, there's a very obvious question to put to Mr. Simmons after all that, he remarked. Have you any idea, he continued, turning to the clerk, of any reason that would bring Mr. Hollis to Skarnam? Simmons shook his head more vigorously than before. Not the ghost of an idea, he exclaimed. There was no business being done at Skarnam, asked Starmage. Not in our office, asserted Simmons. I'm sure of that. I know all the business that we have in hand. To tell you the truth, gentlemen, though you may think me very ignorant, I never even heard of Skarnam myself until I read the paper this evening. Quite excusable, said Starmage. I never heard of it myself until Monday. Well, this is all very queer, Mr. Simmons. What does Mr. Polk think? Mr. Polk got to suggest. Polk, who had been listening silently, turned to the clerk. Did you chance to look at Mr. Hollis's letters? Recent letters, I mean, he asked, to see if you would find anything inviting him down here. I did, replied Simmons promptly. I looked through all the letters on his desk and in his drawers yesterday afternoon. I didn't find anything that explained his absence. And when I was at his rooms this evening I looked at some letters on his mantelpiece. Nothing there. I tell you, I haven't the least notion as to what could bring him to Skarnam. And I suppose none of your fellow clerks have, either, asked Polk. Simmons smiled and glanced at Starmage. 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 convincing now and then and some family business. Mr. Hollis isn't dependent on it. He's private means of his own. I, just so, observed Polk. And I should say, Starmage, that it was private business brought him down here if he's the man, as he certainly seems to be, but who's? Starmage 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 Chester Marksbank, as Starmage? No, never. Never heard either name in my life until I saw them in the papers, 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 that since I went there. You never saw any checks paid to those names or any checks from them, inquired Starmage? No, I'm absolutely sure of it, said the clerk. Horbury perhaps I might not remember, but I should have remembered Chester Mark. It's an uncommon name that, to me anyway. Well, said Starmage, after a pause, during which all three looked at each other as men look who have come to a dead stop in the progress of things. There's one thing very certain, Mr. Simmons. If that was your fevener who came down to the station hotel here on Saturday evening last, he certainly telephoned from there to Chester Mark's bank as soon as he arrived. And he got a reply from there, and he evidently went out to meet whoever sent it. That sender seemed to be Mr. Horbury, the manager. And so he concluded, turning to Polk. What we've got to find out is, what did Hollis come here at all for? We shan't find that out tonight, said Polk with a yawn. Quite so. So we'll adjourn till morning, Mr. Simmons shall see Mrs. Pratt, just to establish things, remarked Starmage. In the meantime he better come round with me to my place, and I'll get him a bed. Neither the police superintendent nor the detective had the slightest doubt after hearing Simmons's story that the man who presented himself at the station hotel at Skarnam on the evening of John Horbury's disappearance was Mr. Frederick Hollis, solicitor of Grey's Inn. If they had still retained any doubt it would have disappeared next morning when they took the clerk down to see Mrs. Pratt. The landlady described her customer even more fully than before. Simmons had no doubt whatever that she described his employer. He wouldn't have been more certain, he said, that Mrs. Pratt was talking about Mr. Hollis if she'd shown him a photograph of that gentleman. So we can take that for subtle, remarked Polk, as the three left the hotel and went back to the town. The man who came here last Saturday night was Mr. Frederick Hollis, solicitor of South Square, Grey's Inn, London. That's established, I take it, Starmage. Seems so, agreed the detective. Then the next question is where's he got to? said Polk. I think the next question is has anybody ever heard of him in connection with Mr. Horbury or the Chestermarks? observed Starmage. There's no doubt he came down here to see one or the other of them, Horbury most likely. And who's to tell us anything? asked Polk. Miss Fosdyk's a relation of Horbury's, replied Starmage. She may know Hollis by name. Mr. Neal's always been in touch with Horbury. He may have heard of Hollis, and so may the bankers. The difficulty is to make them say anything, said Polk. They'll only tell what they please. Let's try the other two anyway, counsel Starmage. They may be able to tell something, as sure as I am what I am. The whole secret of this business lies in Hollis's coming down here to see Horbury, and in what followed on their meeting. If we could only get to know what Hollis came here for. Ah. But they got no further information from either Betty Fosdyk or Wallington Neal. Neither had ever heard of Mr. Frederick Hollis of Grey's Inn. Betty was certain, beyond doubt, that he was no relation of the missing bank manager. She had a whole family tree of the Horburys at her finger ends. She declared no Hollis was connected with even its outlying twigs. Neal had never heard the name of Hollis mentioned by Horbury. And he added that he was absolutely sure that during the last five years no person of that name had ever had dealings with Chester Marks Bank. Open dealings at any rate. Secret dealings with the partners, severally or collectively, or with Horbury, for that matter, Mr. Hollis had, but Neal was certain he had had no ordinary business with any of them. Polk took heart of Grace and led Simmons across to the bank. To his astonishment the partners now received him readily and politely. They even listened with apparent interest to the clerk's story and asked him some questions arising out of it. But each declared that he knew nothing about Mr. Frederick Hollis. And was unaware of any reason that could bring him to Skarnam. 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 dead certain. No doubt they met. And after that well, they seem to have vanished together. Gabriel followed Polk into the hall and drew him aside. Did this clerk tell you whether his master was a man of standing, he asked? Man of private means, Mr. Chester Mark, with a small highly respectable practice, a convincing solicitor, answered Polk. Oh! replied Gabriel. Just so. Well, we know nothing about him. Polk and his companion returned to Skarnam Arms where Starmage was in consultation with Betty and Neil. They know nothing at all over there, he reported. Never heard of Hollis. What's to be done now? Mr. Simmons must do the next thing, answered the detective. Head to town, Mr. Simmons, and put yourself in communication with every single one of Mr. Hollis's clients. You know them all, of course. Find out if any of them gave Mr. Hollis any business that would send him to Skarnam. Don't leave a stone unturned in that way. In the moment you have any information, however slight, wire to me here, on the instant.