e'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 impassive 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 ma