the hairbreadth escape he had gone
through in connection with the second. And he had formed an idea of
him--which he now saw to be a totally erroneous one. For Starmidge did
not look at all like a detective--in Neale's opinion. Instead of being
elderly, and sinister, and close of eye and mouth, he was a somewhat
shy-looking, open-faced, fresh-coloured young man, still under thirty,
modest of demeanour, given to smiling, who might from his general
appearance have been, say, a professional cricketer, or a young
commercial traveller, or anything but an expert criminal catcher.

"Only just got here, and a bit tired, miss," continued Polke, waving his
hand again at the detective. "So I'm just giving him a refresher to
liven his brains up. He'll want 'em--before we've done."

Betty took the chair which Polke offered her, and looked at the stranger
with interest. She knew nothing about Starmidge, and she thought him
quite different to any preconceived notion which she had ever had of men
of his calling.

"I hope you'll be able to help us," she said politely, as Starmidge,
murmuring something about his best respects to his host, took a
whisky-and-soda from Polke's hand. "Do you think you will--and has Mr.
Polke told you all about it?"

"Given him a mere outline, miss," remarked Polke. "I'll prime him before
he goes to bed. Yes--he knows the main facts."

"And what do you propose to do--first?" demanded Betty.

Starmidge smiled and set down his glass.

"Why, first," he answered, "first, I think I should like to see a
photograph of Mr. Horbury."

Polke moved to a bureau in the corner of his dining-room.

"I can fit you up," he said. "I've a portrait here that Mr. Horbury gave
me not so long ago. There you are!"

He produced a cabinet photograph and handed it to Starmidge, who looked
at it and laid it down on the table without comment.

"I suppose that conveys nothing to you?" asked Betty.

"Well," replied Starmidge, with another smile, "if a man's missing, one
naturally wants to know what he's like. And if there's any advertising
of him to be done--by poster, I mean--it ought to have a recent portrait
of him."

"To be sure," agreed Polke.

"So far as I understand matters," continued Starmidge, "this gentleman
left his house on Saturday evening, hasn't been seen since, and there's
an idea that he probably walked across country to a place called
Ellersdeane. But up to now there's no proof that he did. I think that