He was very much ashamed of him, and--well, very glad he
was in Australia."

"Did he write Mark sometimes?"

"Occasionally. Perhaps three or four times in the last five years."

"Asking for money?"

"Something of the sort. I don't think Mark always answered them. As far
as I know, he never sent any money."

"Now your own private opinion, Mr. Cayley. Do you think that Mark was
unfair to his brother? Unduly hard on him?"

"They'd never liked each other as boys. There was never any affection
between them. I don't know whose fault it was in the first place--if
anybody's."

"Still, Mark might have given him a hand?"

"I understand," said Cayley, "that Robert spent his whole life asking
for hands."

The inspector nodded.

"I know that sort. Well, now, we'll go on to this morning. This letter
that Mark got--did you see it?"

"Not at the time. He showed it to me afterwards."

"Any address?"

"No. A half-sheet of rather dirty paper."

"Where is it now?"

"I don't know. In Mark's pocket, I expect."

"Ah!" He pulled at his beard. "Well, we'll come to that. Can you
remember what it said?"

"As far as I remember, something like this: 'Mark, your loving brother
is coming to see you to-morrow, all the way from Australia. I give you
warning so that you will be able to conceal your surprise, but not I
hope, your pleasure. Expect him at three, or thereabouts.'"

"Ah!" The inspector copied it down carefully. "Did you notice the
postmark?"

"London."

"And what was Mark's attitude?"

"Annoyance, disgust--" Cayley hesitated.

"Apprehension?"

"N-no, not exactly. Or, rather, apprehension of an unpleasant interview,
not of any unpleasant outcome for himself."

"You mean that he wasn't afraid of violence, or blackmail, or anything
of that sort?"

"He didn't appear to be."

"Right.... Now then, he arrived, you say, about three o'clock?"

"Yes, about that."

"Who was in the house then?"

"Mark and myself, and some of the servants. I don't know which. Of
course, you will ask them directly, no doubt."

"With your permission. No guests?"

"They were out all day playing golf," explained Cayley. "Oh, by the
way," he put in, "if I may interrupt a moment, will you want to see
them at all? It isn't very pleasant for them now, naturally, and I
suggested--" he turned to Antony, who nodded back to him. "I understand
that they want to go back to London this evening. There's no objection
to that, I suppose?"

"