"I certainly think inquiry should be set going," answered the Earl.
"Already done," remarked Joseph drily. "Miss Fosdyke has been with the police five minutes."
"I mean – it should be done by us," said the Earl.
"Very well," said Gabriel suddenly, "it shall be done, then. No doubt your lordship would like to give the police your own story. Mr. Neale, will you go with Lord Ellersdeane to Superintendent Polke? Your duty will be to give him the mere information that Mr. Horbury left his house at a quarter to eight on Saturday evening and has not been heard of since. No more, Neale. And now," he concluded, with a bow to the Earl, "your lordship will excuse my partner and myself if we return to a singularly unpleasant task."
Lord Ellersdeane and Neale left the bank-house and walked towards the police-station. They crossed the Market-Place in silence, but as they turned the corner of the Moot Hall, the elder man spoke, touching his companion's shoulder with a confidential gesture.
"I don't believe a word of all that, Mr. Neale!" he said. "Not one word!"
Neale started and glanced at the Earl's moody face.
"Your lordship doesn't believe – ?" he began, and checked himself.
"I don't believe that Horbury's done what those two accuse him of," affirmed the Earl. "Not for one moment! I can't account for those missing securities they talk about, but I'll stake my honour that Horbury hasn't got 'em! Nor my wife's jewels either. You heard and saw how astounded that girl was. By the by – who is she!"
"Mr. Horbury's niece – Miss Fosdyke – from London," replied Neale.
"She spoke of her wealth," remarked the Earl.
"Yes," said Neale. "She must be wealthy, too. She's the sole proprietor of Fosdyke's Brewery."
"Ho-ho!" laughed the Earl. "That's it, eh? Fosdyke's Entire! Of course – I've seen the name on no end of public-houses in London. Sole proprietor? Dear me! – why, I have some recollection that Fosdyke, of that brewery, was at one time a member of Parliament."
"Yes," assented Neale. "He married Mr. Horbury's sister. Miss Fosdyke is their only child. Mr. Fosdyke died a few years ago, and she came into the property last year when she was twenty-one."
"Lucky young woman!" muttered the Earl. "Fine thing to own a big brewery. Um! A very modern and up-to-date young lady, too: I liked the way she stood up to your principals. Of course, she'll have told Polke all the story by this time. As for ourselves – what had we better do?"
Neale had considered that question as he came along.
"There's only one thing to do, my lord," he answered. "We want the solution of a problem: what became of Mr. Horbury last Saturday night?"
CHAPTER V
THE SEARCH BEGINS
Polke, superintendent of the Scarnham police force, a little, round, cheery-faced man, whose mutton-chop whiskers suggested much business-like capacity and an equal amount of common sense, rose from his desk and bowed as the Earl of Ellersdeane entered his office.
"I know what your lordship's come for!" he said, with a twinkle of the eye which betokened infinite comprehension. "The young lady's been here."
"And has no doubt told you everything?" remarked the Earl, as he dropped into the chair which the superintendent drew forward. "Has she?"
"Pretty well, my lord," replied Polke, with a chuckle. "She's not one to let much grass grow under her feet, I think."
"Given you the facts, I suppose?" asked the Earl.
Polke motioned to Neale to seat himself, and resumed his own seat. He put his fingers together over his desk and looked from one to the other of his visitors.
"I'll give the young lady this much credit," he said. "She can tell one what she wants in about as few words as could possibly be used! Yes, my lord – she told me the facts in a couple of sentences. Her uncle disappeared – nobody knows where he is – suspected already of running away with your lordship's jewels and Chestermarke's securities. A very nice business indeed!"
"What do you think of it?" asked the Earl.
"As a policeman, nothing – so far," answered Polke, with another twinkle. "As a man, that I don't believe it!"
"Nor do I!" said the Earl. "That is, I don't believe that Horbury's appropriated anything. There's some mistake – and some mystery."
"We can't get away from the fact that Mr. Horbury has disappeared," remarked Neale, looking at the superintendent. "That's all I'm sent here to tell you, Mr. Polke."
"That's an accepted fact," agreed Polke. "But he's not the first man who's disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Some men, as your lordship knows, disappear – and reappear with good reasons for their absence. Some never reappear. Some men aren't wanted to reappear. When a man disappears and he's wanted – why, the job is to find him."
"What does Miss Fosdyke wish?" asked the Earl, nodding assent to these philosophies. "She would say, of course."
"Miss Fosdyke's way, my lord – so far as I could gather from ten minutes' talk with her – is to tell people what to do," answered Polke drily. "She doesn't ask – she commands! We're to find her uncle – quick. At once. No pains to be spared. Money no object. A hundred pounds, spot cash, to the first man, woman, child, who brings her the least fragment of news of him. That's Miss Fosdyke's method. It's not a bad one – it's only rich young ladies who can follow it. So I've already put things in train. Handbills and posters, of course – and the town-crier. I suggested to her that by tonight, or tomorrow morning, there might be news of Mr. Horbury without doing all that. No good! Miss Fosdyke – she can tell you a lot inside a minute – informed me that since she was seventeen she had only had one motto in life. It's – do it now!"
"Good!" laughed the Earl. "But – where are you going to begin?"
"That's the difficulty," agreed Polke. "A gentleman walks out of his back garden into the dusk – and he's never seen again. I don't know. We must wait and see if anybody comes forward to say that he, she, or it saw Mr. Horbury after he left his house on Saturday night. That's all."
"Somebody must have seen him," said the Earl.
"Well, you'd think so, my lord," replied Polke, "but he could get away from the back of his orchard into the open country without being seen. The geographical position of our town's a bit curious, so your lordship knows. Here we are on a ridge. Horbury's garden and orchard run down to the foot of that ridge. At that foot is the river. There's a foot-bridge over the river, immediately opposite his orchard gate. He could cross that foot-bridge, and be in the wood on the other side in two minutes from leaving his house. That wood extends for a good mile into the country. Oh, yes! he could get away without being seen, and once in that country, why, he could make his way to one or other of half a dozen small railway stations. We shall telephone to all of them. That's all in the routine. But then, that's all supposing that he left the town. Perhaps he didn't leave the town."
The Earl started, and Neale looked quickly up from a brown study.
"Eh?" said the Earl. "Didn't leave the town?"
"Speaking as a policeman," answered Polke, with a knowing smile, "I don't know that he even left his house. I only know that his housekeeper says he did. That's a very different matter. For anything we know – absolutely know! – Mr. Horbury may have been murdered in his own house, and buried in his own cellar."
"You're not joking?" said Neale. "Or – you are!"
"Far from it, Mr. Neale," answered Polke. "That may seem a very, very outrageous thing to say, but, I assure you, one never knows what may not have happened in these cases. However, Mrs. Carswell says he did leave the house, so we must take her word to begin with, and see if we can find out where he went. And as your lordship is here, there's just a question or two I should like to have answered. How many people know that your lordship handed over these valuables to Mr. Horbury?"
"So far as I know, no one but the Countess and