, by some old
associates of theirs, who murdered them in the expectation of getting
hold of something--papers, or what not. And what I would like to know
is--why did Salter Quick come down here, to this particular bit of the
North Country?"

"He said--to look for the graves of his ancestors on the mother's
side, the Netherfields," I answered.

"Aye, well!" remarked the inspector, almost triumphantly. "I know he
did--but I've had the most careful inquires made. There isn't such a
name in any churchyard of these parts. There isn't such a name in any
parish register between Alnmouth Bay and Fenham Flats--and that's a
pretty good stretch of country! I set to work on those investigations
as soon as you told me about your first meeting with Salter Quick, and
every beneficed clergyman and parish clerk in the district--and
further afield--has been at work. The name of Netherfield is
absolutely unknown--in the past or present."

"And yet," suddenly broke in Miss Raven, "it was not Salter Quick
alone who was seeking the graves of the Netherfields! There was
another man."

The inspector gave her an appreciative look.

"The most mysterious feature of the whole case!" he exclaimed. "You're
right, Miss Raven! There was another man--asking for the same
information. Who was he! Where is he? If only I could clap a hand on
him----"

"You think you'd be clapping a hand on Salter Quick's murderer?" I
said sharply.

To my surprise he gave me an equally sharp look and shook his head.

"I'm not at all sure of that, Mr. Middlebrook," he answered quietly.
"Not at all sure! But I think I could get some information out of him
that I should be very glad to secure."

Miss Raven and I rose to leave; the inspector accompanied us to the
door of the police-station. And as we were thanking him for his polite
attentions, a man came along the street, and paused close by us,
looking inquiringly at the building from which we had just emerged and
at our companion's smart semi-uniform. Finally, as we were about to
turn away, he touched his cap.

"Begging your pardon," he said; "is this here the police office?"

There was a suggestion in the man's tone which made me think that he
had come there with a particular object, and I looked at him more
attentively. He was a shortish, thick-set man, hound-faced, frank of
eye and lip; no beauty, for he had a shock of sandy-red hair and three
or four days' stubble on his cheeks and chin; yet his apparent