in his own
interests had he not shirked them."

"I agree with you fully. I hadn't the least notion he meant going
until I looked out on hearing the bicycle, and saw him racing down the
avenue."

"Do you think, sir, he is making for London?"

"I suppose so. That is where he came from. He says he heard of his
father's death through the newspapers, and it would not surprise me in
the least if I did not see him again until after the funeral."

"Thank you, sir. I'm sorry I bothered you, but I imagined or hoped he
had given you some explanation. His conduct calls for it."

The Superintendent's manner had gradually become more suave. He
realized that these Fenleys were queer folk. Like the Pharisee, "they
were not as other men," but whether the difference between them and
the ordinary mortal arose from pride or folly or fear it was hard to
say.

Hilton Fenley smiled wanly.

"Bob is adopting the supposed tactics of the ostrich when pursued," he
said.

"But no one is pursuing him."

"I am speaking metaphorically, of course. He is in distress, and hides
behind the first bush. He has no moral force--never had. Physically he
doesn't know what fear is, but the specters of the mind loom large in
his eyes. And now, Superintendent, I am just on the point of leaving
for London. I shall return about six thirty. Do you remain?"

"No, sir. I shall return to town almost immediately. Mr. Furneaux will
stop here. Can he have a bedroom in the house?"

"Certainly. Tomlinson will look after him. You are not going cityward,
I suppose?"

"No, sir. But if you care to have a seat in my car----"

"No, thanks. The train is quicker and takes me direct to London
Bridge. Much obliged."

Fenley hurried to the cloakroom, which was situated under the stairs,
but on a lower level than the hall. The telephone box was placed
there, and Furneaux emerged as the other ran down a few steps. The
little man hailed him cheerfully.

"I suppose, now," he said, "that hot headed brother of yours thinks he
has dodged Scotland Yard till it suits his convenience to be
interviewed. Strange how people insist on regarding us as novices in
our own particular line. Now you wouldn't make that mistake, sir."

"What mistake? I wouldn't run away, if that is what you mean."

"I'm sure of that, sir. But Mr. Robert has committed the additional
folly, from his point of view, of letting us know why he was so
desperately anxious to get back to London."

"But he d