ooked astonished.

"But he hasn't returned, sir," he said. "He's away for a month at least,"
he ventured to add.

"Who told you that?"

"The housemaid at Riversbrook--before he went away."

"H'm." The inspector's next question contained a moral rebuke rather than
an official one. "You're a married man, Flack?"

"Yes, sir."

"So the housemaid told you he was going away for a month. Well, she ought
to know. When did she tell you?"

"A week ago yesterday, sir. She told me that all the servants except the
butler were going down to Dellmere the next day--that is Sir Horace's
country place--and that Sir Horace was going to Scotland for the
shooting and would put in some weeks at Dellmere after the shooting
season was over."

"And are you sure he hasn't returned?"

"Quite, sir. I saw Hill, the butler, only yesterday morning, and he
told me that his master was sure to be in Scotland for at least a
month longer."

"It's very strange," muttered the inspector, half to himself. "It will be
a deuced awkward situation to face if Scotland Yard has been hoaxed."

"Beg your pardon, sir, but is there anything wrong about Sir Horace?"

"Yes. Scotland Yard has received a report that he has been murdered."

Flack's surprise was so great that it lifted the lid of official humility
which habitually covered his natural feelings.

"Murdered!" he exclaimed. "Sir Horace Fewbanks murdered? You
don't say so!"

"But I do say so. I've just said so," retorted Inspector Seldon
irritably. He was angry at the fact that the information, whether true or
false, had gone direct to Scotland Yard instead of reaching him first.

"When was he murdered, sir?" asked Flack.

"Last night--when you were on that beat."

Flack paled at this remark.

"Last night, sir?" he cried.

"Don't repeat my words like a parrot," ejaculated the inspector
peevishly. "Didn't you notice anything suspicious when you were
along there?"

"No, sir. Was he murdered in his own house?"

"His dead body is supposed to be lying there now in the library," said
Inspector Seldon. "How Scotland Yard got wind of it is more than I know.
We ought to have heard of it before them. How many times did you go along
there last night?"

"Twice, sir. About eleven o'clock, and then about three."

"And there was nothing suspicious--you saw no one?"

"I saw Mr. Roberts and his lady coming home from the theatre. But he
lives at the other end of Tanton Gardens. And I saw the housem