eye on
his house while he was away."

There was a pause at the Scotland Yard end of the telephone. Inspector
Chippenfield was evidently thinking hard.

"We may have been hoaxed," he said at length. "But I have been ringing
up his house and can get no answer. You had better send up a couple of
men there at once--better still, go yourself. It is a matter which may
require tactful handling. Let me know, and I'll come out immediately if
there is anything wrong. Stay! How long will it take you to get up to
the house?"

"Not more than fifteen minutes--in a taxi."

"Well, I'll ring you up at the house in half an hour. Should our
information be correct see that everything is left exactly as you find it
till I arrive."

Inspector Seldon hung up the receiver of his telephone, bundled up the
papers scattered on his desk, closed it, and stepped out of his office
into the next room.

"Anyone about?" he hurriedly asked the sergeant who was making entries in
the charge-book.

"Yes, sir. I saw Flack here a moment ago."

"Get him at once and call a taxi. Scotland Yard's rung through to say
they've received a report that Sir Horace Fewbanks has been murdered."

"Murdered?" echoed the sergeant in a tone of keen interest. "Who told
Scotland Yard that?"

"I don't know. Who was on that beat last night?"

"Flack, sir. Was Sir Horace murdered in his own house? I thought he was
in Scotland."

"So did I, but he may have returned--ah, here's the taxi."

Inspector Seldon had been waiting on the steps for the appearance of a
cab from the rank round the corner in response to the shrill blast which
the sergeant had blown on his whistle. The sergeant went to the door of
the station leading into the yard and sharply called:

"Flack!"

In response a police-constable, without helmet or tunic, came running up
the steps from the basement, which was used as a gymnasium.

"Seldon wants you. Get on your tunic as quick as you can. He is in a
devil of a hurry."

Inspector Seldon was seated in the taxi-cab when Flack appeared. He had
been impatiently drumming his fingers on the door of the cab.

"Jump in, man," he said angrily. "What has kept you all this time?"

Flack breathed stertorously to show that he had been running and was out
of breath, but he made no reply to the official rebuke. Inspector Seldon
turned to him and remarked severely:

"Why didn't you let me know that Sir Horace Fewbanks had returned from
Scotland?"

Flack l