"How should he--a stranger--know of this short cut?" demurred Neale. "I don't think that's very likely."

"That's true--unless he'd had it pointed out to him," rejoined Starmidge. "It's odd, anyway, that his body should be found half-way, as it were, between Gabriel Chestermarke's place and Joseph Chestermarke's house--isn't it now? But, Lord bless you!--we're only on the fringe of this business as yet. Well--just take a look at him."

Neale walked within the group of bystanders, feeling an intense dislike and loathing of the whole thing. In obedience to Starmidge's wish, he looked steadily at the dead man and turned away.

"You don't know him?--never saw him during the five years you were at the bank?" whispered the detective. "Think!--make certain, now."

"Never saw him in my life!" declared Neale, stepping back. "I neither know him nor anything about him."

"I wanted you to make sure," said Starmidge. "I thought you might--possibly--recollect him as somebody who'd called at the bank during your time."

"No!" said Neale. "Certainly not! I've never set eyes on him until now.

Of course, he's Hollis, I suppose?"

"Oh, without doubt!" answered Polke, who caught Neale's question as he came up. "He's Hollis, right enough. Mr. Neale--here's a difficulty.

It's a queer thing, but there isn't one of us here who knows if this spot is in Scarnham or in Ellersdeane. Do you? Is it within our borough boundary, or is it in Ellersdeane parish? The Ellersdeane policeman there doesn't know, and I'm sure I don't! It's a point of importance, because the inquest'll have to be held in the parish in which the body was found."

The Ellersdeane constable who had followed Polke suddenly raised a finger and pointed across the heather.

"Here's a gentleman coming as might know, Mr. Polke," he said. "Mr.

Chestermarke!"

Neale and Starmidge turned sharply--to see the banker advancing quickly from the adjacent road. A cab, drawn up a little distance off, showed that he had driven out to hear the latest news.

Polke stepped forward to meet the new-comer: Gabriel greeted him in his usual impa.s.sive fashion.

"This body been recovered?" he asked quietly.

"A few minutes ago, Mr. Chestermarke," answered Polke. "Will you look at it?"

Gabriel moved aside the group of men without further word, and the others followed him. He looked steadily at the dead man's face and withdrew.

"Not known to me," he said, in answer to an inquiring glance from Polke.

"Hollis, I suppose, of course."

He went off again as suddenly as he had come--and Starmidge drew Neale aside.

"Mr. Neale!" he whispered, with a nearer approach to excitement than Neale had yet seen in him. "Did you see Gabriel Chestermarke's eyes?

He's a liar! As sure as my name's Starmidge, he's a liar! Mr. Neale!--he knows that dead man!"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE INCOMPLETE CHEQUE

Neale, startled and amazed by this sudden outburst on the part of a man whom up to that time he had taken to be unusually cool-headed and phlegmatic, did not immediately answer. He was watching the Ellersdeane constable, who was running after Gabriel Chestermarke's rapidly retreating figure. He saw Gabriel stop, listen to an evident question, and then lift his hand and point to various features of the Hollow. The policeman touched his helmet, and came back to Polke.

"Mr. Chestermarke, sir, says the moorland is in three parishes," he reported pantingly. "From Scarnham Bridge corner to Ellersdeane Tower yonder is in Scarnham parish: this side the Hollow is in Ellersdeane; everything beyond the Tower is in Middlethorpe."

"Then we're in Scarnham," said Polke. "He'll have to be taken down to the town mortuary. We'd better see to it at once. What are you going to do, Starmidge?" he asked, as the detective turned away with Neale.

"I'll take this short cut back," said Starmidge. "I want to get to the post-office. Yes, sir!" he went on, as he and Neale slowly walked towards Betty. "I say--he knew him! knew him, Mr. Neale, knew him!--as soon as ever he clapped his eyes on him!"

"You're very certain about it," said Neale.

"Dead certain!" exclaimed the detective. "I was watching him--purposely.

I've taught myself to watch men. The slightest quiver of a lip--the least bit of light in an eye--the merest twitch of a little finger--ah!

don't I know 'em all, and know what they mean! And, when Gabriel Chestermarke stepped up to look at that body, I was watching that face of his as I've never watched mortal man before!"

"And you saw--what?" asked Neale.

"I saw--Recognition!" said Starmidge. "Recognition, sir! I'll stake my reputation as a detective officer that Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke has seen that dead man before. He mayn't know him personally. He may never have spoken to him. But--he knew him! He'd seen him!"

"Will your conviction of that help at all?" inquired Neale.

"It'll help me," replied the detective quickly. "I'm gradually getting some ideas. But I shan't tell Polke--nor anybody else--of it. You can tell Miss Fosd.y.k.e if you like--she'll understand: women have more intuition than men. Now I'm off--I want to get a wire away to London.

Look here--drop in at the police-station when you get back. We shall examine Hollis's clothing, you know--there may be some clue to Horbury."

He hurried off towards the town, and Neale rejoined Betty. And as they slowly followed the detective, he told her what Starmidge had just said with such evident belief--and Betty understood, as Starmidge had prophesied, and she grew more thoughtful than ever.

"When are we going to find a way out of all this miserable business!"

she suddenly exclaimed. "Are we any nearer a solution because of what's just happened? Does that help us to finding out what's become of my uncle?"

"I suppose one thing's sure to lead to another," said Neale. "That seems to be the detective's notion, anyhow. If Starmidge is so certain that Gabriel Chestermarke knew Hollis, he'll work that for all it's worth.

It's my opinion--whatever that's worth!--that Hollis came down here to see the Chestermarkes. Did he see them? There's the problem. If one could only find out--that!"

"I wish you and I could do something--apart from the police," suggested Betty. "Isn't there anything we could do?"

Neale pointed ahead to the high roof of Joseph Chestermarke's house across the river.

"There's one thing I'd like to do--if I could," he answered. "I'd just like to know all the secrets of that place! That there are some I'm as certain as that we're crossing this moor. You see that queer-shaped structure--sort of conical chimney--sticking up amongst the trees in Joseph Chestermarke's garden? That's a workshop, or a laboratory, or something, in which Joseph spends his leisure moments. I'd like to know what he does there. But n.o.body knows! n.o.body is ever allowed in that house, nor in the garden. I don't know a single soul in all Scarnham that's ever been inside either. I'm perfectly certain Mr. Horbury was never asked there. Once Joseph's across his thresholds, back or front, there's an end of him--till he comes out again!"

"But--he doesn't live entirely alone, does he?" asked Betty.

"As near as can be," replied Neale. "His entire staff consists of an old man and an old woman--man and wife--who've been with him--oh, ever since he was born, I believe! You may have seen the old man about the town--old Palfreman. Everybody knows him--queer, old-fashioned chap: he goes out to buy in whatever's wanted: the old woman never shows. That's the trio that live in there--a queer lot, aren't they?"

"It's all queer!" sighed Betty. "But now that this unfortunate man's body has been found--Wallie! do you think it possible he was thrown down that mine? That would mean murder!"

"If he was thrown down there, already dead," answered Neale grimly, "it would not only mean murder but that more than one person was concerned in it. We shall know more when they've examined the body and searched the clothing. I'm going round to the police-station when I've seen you back to the hotel--I'm hoping they'll find something that'll settle the one point that's so worrying."

"Which point?" asked Betty.

"The real critical point--in my opinion," answered Neale. "Who it was that Hollis came to see on Sat.u.r.day? There may be letters, papers, on him that'll settle that. And if we once know that--ah! that will make a difference! Because then--then----"

"What then?" demanded Betty.