consultation, the result of which was that by twelve o'clock, Starmidge
and a fellow-officer, one Easleby, in whom he had great confidence, were
spinning away towards the beech-clad hills of Buckinghamshire, and
discussing the features and probabilities of the queer business which
took them there. Before two, they were in the pleasant valley which lies
between Chenies and Chesham and pulling up at the door of a fine old
Jacobean house, which, set in the midst of delightful lawns and gardens,
looked down on the windings of the river Chess. And practical as both
men were, and well experienced in their profession, it struck both as
strange that they should come to such a quiet and innocent-looking place
to seek some explanation of a mystery which had surely some connection
with crime.

The two detectives were immediately shown into a morning room in which
sat a little, middle-aged lady in a widow's cap and weeds, who looked at
her visitors half-timidly, half-welcomingly. She sat by a small table on
which lay a heap of newspapers, and Starmidge's sharp eyes saw at once
that she had been reading the published details of the Scarnham affair.

"You have no doubt been informed by your bankers that we were coming,
ma'am?" began Starmidge, when he and Easleby had seated themselves near
Mrs. Lester. "The manager there was good enough to say he'd telephone
you."

Mrs. Lester, who had been curiously inspecting her callers and appeared
somewhat relieved to find that they were quite ordinary-looking beings,
entirely unlike her own preconceived notions of detectives, bowed her
head.

"Yes," she answered, "my bankers telephoned that an officer from
Scotland Yard would call on me this morning, and that I was to speak
freely to him, and in confidence, but--I really don't quite know what it
is that I'm to talk to you about, though I suppose I can guess."

"This, ma'am," answered Starmidge, bending towards the pile of
newspapers and tapping a staring head-line with his finger. "I see
you've been reading it up. I have been in charge of this affair since
Monday last, and I came up to town last night about it--specially. You
will have read in this morning's paper that the body of Mr. Frederick
Hollis was found at Scarnham yesterday?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Lester, with a sigh. "I have read of that. Of course, I
knew Mr. Hollis--he was an old friend of my husband. I saw him last
week. But--what took Mr. Hollis down to Scarnham? I have been in