more conception that his master is Gabriel
Chestermarke than we had--twenty-four hours since--that Gabriel
Chestermarke and Godwin Markham are one and the same man. He's a clever
chap, this Gabriel--and now you can see how important it's been for him
to keep his secret. What's next to be done? We ought to keep in touch
with him from now."

"I'm expecting word from Gandam at noon at headquarters," answered
Starmidge, who had already told Easleby of the visit of the previous
night. "Let's ride down there and hear if any message has come in."

But as their taxi-cab turned out of Whitehall into New Scotland Yard
they overtook Gandam, hurrying along. Starmidge stopped the cab and
jumped out.

"Any news?" he asked sharply.

"He's off, Mr. Starmidge!" replied Gandam. "I've just come straight from
watching him away. He left his house about nine-twenty, walked to the
St. John's Wood Station, went down to Baker Street, and on to King's
Cross Metropolitan. We followed him, of course. He walked across to St.
Pancras, and left by the ten-thirty express."

"Did you manage to find out where he booked for!" demanded Starmidge.

"Ecclesborough," answered Gandam. "Heard him! I was close behind."

"He was alone, I suppose?" asked Starmidge.

"Alone all the time, Mr. Starmidge," assented Gandam. "Never saw a sign
of the other party."

Starmidge rejoined Easleby. For the last twenty-four hours he had let
his companion supervise matters, but now, having decided on a certain
policy, he took affairs into his own hands.

"Now, then," he said, "he's off--back to Scarnham. A word or two at the
office, Easleby, and I'm after him. And you'll come with me."

CHAPTER XXVI

THE LIGHTNING FLASH

At half-past seven that evening Starmidge and Easleby stepped out of a
London express at Ecclesborough, and walked out to the front of the
station to get a taxi-cab for Scarnham. The newsboys were rushing across
the station square with the latest editions of the evening papers, and
Starmidge's quick ear caught the meaning of their unfamiliar
North-country shoutings.

"Latest about the Scarnham mystery," he said, stopping a lad and taking
a couple of papers from him. "Something about the adjourned inquest--of
course that would be today. Now then--what's this?"

He drew aside to a quiet corner of the station portico, and with his
companion looking over his shoulder, read aloud a passage from the
latest of the two papers.

"'An import