much or how little he's robbed 'em of!"

"All in good time," remarked the detective. "We're only beginning. Let's
go and talk to this Miss Fosdyke a bit. She doesn't mind what money she
spends on this business, you say?"

"Not if it costs her her last penny!" answered Polke.

"All right," said Starmidge. "Fosdyke's Entire represents a lot of
pennies. We'll just have a word or two with her."

Betty, looking out of her window on the Market-Place, had seen the two
men leave Chestermarke's Bank, and was waiting eagerly for their coming.
She listened intently to Polke's account of the interview with the
partners, and her cheeks glowed indignantly as he brought it to an end.

"Shameful!" she exclaimed. "To make accusations against my uncle, and
then to refuse to say what they are! But--can't you make them say?"

"We'll try, in good time," answered Starmidge. "Slow and steady's the
game here. For, whatever it is, it's a deep game."

"Nothing has been heard since I saw you last night?" asked Betty
anxiously. "No one has brought you any news?"

"No news of any sort, miss," replied Polke.

"What's to be done, then, next?" she inquired, looking from one to the
other. "Do let us do something!"

"Oh, we'll do a lot, Miss Fosdyke, before the day's out," said Starmidge
reassuringly. "I'm going to work just now. Now, the first thing is,
publicity! We must have all this in the newspapers at once." He turned
to the superintendent. "I suppose there's some journalist here in the
town who sends news to the London press, isn't there?" he asked.

"Parkinson, editor of the 'Scarnham Advertiser,' he does," replied
Polke, with promptitude. "He's a sort of reporter-editor, you
understand, and jolly glad of a bit of extra stuff."

"That's the first thing," said Starmidge. "The next, we must have a
reward bill printed immediately, and circulated broadcast. It must have
a portrait on it--I'll take that photograph you showed me last night.
And--we'll have to offer a specific reward in each. How much is it to
be, Miss Fosdyke? For you'll have to pay it, you know."

"Anything you like!" said Betty eagerly. "A thousand pounds?--would that
do, to begin with."

"We'll say half of it," answered Starmidge. "Very good. Now, Mr. Polke,
if you'll tell me where this Mr. Parkinson's to be found, and where the
best printing office in the place is, I'll go to work."

"Scammonds are the best printers--and they're quick," said Polke. "But
I'll come