s way to Paddock Wood, and was later
observed at Tonbridge. The driver pulled up at a little tea house half a
mile from the town, ordered sandwiches and tea, which were brought to
him, and which he consumed in the car.

Late in the afternoon the car was seen at Uckfield, and the theory
generally held was that the driver was killing time. At the wayside
cottage at which he stopped for tea--it was one of those little places
that invite cyclists by an ill-printed board to tarry a while and
refresh themselves--he had some conversation with the tenant of the
cottage, a widow. She seems to have been the usual loquacious, friendly
soul who tells one without reserve her business, her troubles, and a
fair sprinkling of the news of the day in the shortest possible time.

"I haven't seen a paper," said Rex Holland politely. "It is a very
curious thing that I never thought about newspapers."

"I can get you one," said the woman eagerly. "You ought to read about
that case."

"The dead chauffeur?" asked Rex Holland interestedly, for that had been
the item of general news which was foremost in the woman's conversation.

"Yes, sir; he was murdered in Ashdown Forest. Many's the time I've
driven over there."

"How do you know it was a murder?"

She knew for many reasons. Her brother-in-law was gamekeeper to Lord
Ferring, and a colleague of his had been the man who had discovered the
body, and it had appeared, as the good lady explained, that this same
chauffeur was a man for whom the police had been searching in connection
with a bank robbery about which much had appeared in the newspapers of
the day previous.

"How very interesting!" said Mr. Holland, and took the paper from her
hand.

He read the description line by line. He learned that the police were in
possession of important clews, and that they were on the track of the
man who had been seen in the company of the chauffeur. Moreover, said a
most indiscreet newspaper writer, the police had a photograph showing
the chauffeur standing by the side of his car, and reproductions of this
photograph, showing the type of machine, were being circulated.

"How very interesting!" said Mr. Rex Holland again, being perfectly
content in his mind, for his search of the body had revealed copies of
this identical picture, and the car in which he was seated was not the
car which had been photographed. From this point, a mile and a half
beyond Uckfield, all trace of the car and its occupa