ally observant, saw that his lips and
his hands were trembling slightly as he came towards them.

"Mr. Tertius," said Peggie, "do you know anything about Uncle Jacob? He
came in during the night--one o'clock--and now he's disappeared. Did he
say anything to you about going away early this morning?"

Mr. Tertius shook his head.

"No--no--nothing!" he answered. "Disappeared! Is it certain he came in?"

"Mountain saw him come in," she said. "Besides, he had a drink out of
that glass, and he ate something from the tray--see!"

Mr. Tertius bent his spectacled eyes over the supper tray and remained
looking at what he saw there for a while. Then he looked up, and at
Selwood.

"Strange!" he remarked. "And yet, you know, he is a man who does things
without saying a word to any one. Have you, now, thought of telephoning
to the estate office? He may have gone there."

Peggie, who had dropped into the chair at Herapath's desk, immediately
jumped up.

"Of course we must do that at once!" she exclaimed. "Come to the
telephone, Mr. Selwood--we may hear something."

She and Selwood left the room together. When they had gone, Mr. Tertius
once more bent over the supper tray. He picked up the empty glass,
handling it delicately; he held it between himself and the electric
light over the desk; he narrowly inspected it, inside and out. Then he
turned his attention to the plate of sandwiches. One sandwich had been
taken from the plate and bitten into--once. Mr. Tertius took up that
sandwich with the tips of his delicately-shaped fingers. He held that,
too, nearer the light. And having looked at it he hastily selected an
envelope from the stationery cabinet on the desk, carefully placed the
sandwich within it, and set off to his own rooms in the upper part of
the house. As he passed through the hall he heard Selwood at the
telephone, which was installed in a small apartment at the foot of the
stairs--he was evidently already in communication with some one at the
Herapath Estate Office.

Mr. Tertius went straight to his room, stayed there a couple of minutes,
and went downstairs again. Selwood and Peggie Wynne were just coming
away from the telephone; they looked up at him with faces grave with
concern.

"We're wanted at the estate office," said Selwood. "The caretaker was
just going to ring us up when I got through to him. Something is
wrong--wrong with Mr. Herapath."

CHAPTER II

IS IT MURDER?

It struck Selwood, a