"I should say-not in character," answered Neale shyly. "I remember you always wanted to be top dog!"
"It's my fate!" she said, with a sigh. "I've such a lot of people and things to look after-one has to be top dog, whether one wants to or not. But this affair-what's to be done?"
"I understand from Polke that you've already done everything," replied Neale.
"I've given him orders to spare neither trouble nor expense," she asserted. "He's to send for the very best detective they can give him from headquarters in London, and search is to be made. Because-now, Wallie, tell me truthfully-you don't believe for one moment that my uncle has run away with things?"
"Not for one second!" asserted Neale stoutly. "Never did!"
"Then-there's foul play!" exclaimed Betty. "And I'll spend my last penny to get at the bottom of it! Here I am, and here I stick, until I've found my uncle, or discovered what's happened to him. And listen-do you think those two men across there are to be trusted?"
Neale shook his head as if in appeal to her.
"I'm their clerk, you know," he replied. "I hate being there at all, but I am there. I believe they're men of absolute probity as regards business matters-personally, I'm not very fond of either."
"Fond!" she exclaimed. "My dear boy!-Joseph is a slimy sneak, and Gabriel is a bloodless sphinx-I hate both of them!"
Neale laughed and gave her a look of comprehension.
"You haven't changed, Betty," he said. "I'm to call you Betty, though you are grown up?"
"Since it's the only name I possess, I suppose you are," she answered. "But now-what can we do-you and I? After all, we're the nearest people my uncle has in this town. Do let's do something! I'm not the sort to sit talking-I want action! Can't you suggest something we can do?"
"There's one thing," replied Neale, after a moment's thought. "Lord Ellersdeane suggested that possibly Mr. Horbury, hearing that the Ellersdeanes had got home on Saturday, put the jewels in his pocket and started out to Ellersdeane with them. I know the exact path he'd have taken in that case, and I thought of following it this evening-one might come across something, or hear something, you know."
"Take me with you, as soon as we've had dinner," she said. "It'll be a beginning. I mean to turn this neighbourhood upside down for news-you'll see. Some person or persons must have seen my uncle on Saturday night!-a man can't disappear like that. It's impossible!"
"Um!-but men do disappear," remarked Neale. "What I'm hoping is that there'll eventually-and quickly-be some explanation of this disappearance, and that Mr. Horbury hasn't met with-shall I put it plainly?"
"You'd better put anything plainly to me," she answered. "I don't understand other methods."
"It's possible he may have been murdered, you know," said Neale quietly.
Betty got up from her chair and went over to the window to look out on the Market-Place. She stood there some time in silence.
"It shall be a bad job for any man who murdered him if that is so," she said at last. "I was very fond of my uncle."
"So was I," said Neale. "But I say-no past tenses yet! Aren't we a bit previous? He may be all right."
"Ring the bell and let's hurry up that dinner," she commanded. "I didn't make it clear that we want it as early as possible. I want to get out, and to see where he went-I want to do something active!"
But Miss Betty Fosdyke was obliged to adapt herself to the somewhat leisurely procedure of highly respectable country-town hotels, whose cooks will not be hurried, and it was already dusk, and the moonlight was beginning to throw shadows of gable and spire over the old Market-Place, when she and Neale set out on their walk.
"All the better," said Neale. "This is just about the time that he went out on Saturday night, and under very similar conditions. Now we'll take the precise path that he'd have taken if he was on his way to Ellersdeane."
He led his companion to a corner of the Market-Place, and down a narrow alley which terminated on an expanse of open ground at the side of the river. There he made her pause and look round.
"Now if we're going to do the thing properly," he said, "just attend, and take notice of what I point out. The town, as you see, stands on this ridge above us. Here we are at the foot of the gardens and orchards which slope down from the backs of the houses on this side of the Market-Place. There is the gate of the bank-house orchard. According to Mrs. Carswell, Mr. Horbury came out of that gate on Saturday night. What did he do then? He could have turned to the left, along this river bank, or to the right, also along the river bank. But, if he meant to walk out to Ellersdeane-which he would reach in well under an hour-he would cross this foot-bridge and enter those woods. That's what we've got to do."
He led his companion across a narrow bridge, over a strip of sward at the other side of the river, and into a grove of fir which presently deepened and thickened as it spread up a gently shelving hillside. The lights of the town behind them disappeared; the gloom increased; presently they were alternately crossing patches of moonlight and plunging into expanses of blackness. And Betty, after stumbling over one or two of the half-exposed roots which lay across the rough path, slipped a hand into Neale's arm.
"You'll have to play guide, Wallie, unless you wish me to break my neck," she laughed. "My town eyes aren't accustomed to these depths of gloom and solitude. And now," she went on, as Neale led her confidently forward through the wood, "let's talk some business. I want to know about those two-the Chestermarkes. For I've an uneasy feeling that there's more in this affair than's on the surface, and I want to know all about the people I'm dealing with. Just remember-beyond the mere fact of their existence and having seen them once or twice, years ago, I don't know anything about them. What sort of men are they-as individuals?"
"Queer!" replied Neale. "They're both queer. I don't know much about them. Nobody does. They're all right as business men, much respected and all that, you know. But as private individuals they're decidedly odd. They're both old bachelors, at least Gabriel's an old one, and Joseph is a youngish one. They live sort of hermit lives, as far as one can make out. Gabriel lives at the old house which I'll show you when we get out of this wood-you'll see the roofs, anyhow, in this moonlight. Joseph lives in another old house, but in the town, at the end of Cornmarket. What they do with themselves at home, Heaven knows! They don't go into such society as there is; they take no part in the town's affairs. There's a very good club here for men of their class-they don't belong to it. You, can't get either of 'em to attend a meeting-they keep aloof from everything. But they both go up to London a great deal-they're always going. But they never go together-when Gabriel's away, Joseph's at home; when Joseph's off, Gabriel's on show. There's always one Mr. Chestermarke to be found at the bank. All the same, Mr. Horbury was the man who did all the business with customers in the ordinary way. So far as I know banking," concluded Neale, "I should say he was trusted and confided in more than most bank managers are."
"Did they seem very much astonished when they found he'd gone?" asked Betty. "Did it seem a great shock, a real surprise?"
"The cleverest man living couldn't tell what either Gabriel or Joseph Chestermarke thinks about anything," answered Neale. "You know what Gabriel's face is like-a stone image! And Joseph always looks as if he was sneering at you, a sort of soft, smiling sneer. No, I couldn't say they showed surprise, and I don't know what they've found out-they're the closest, most reserved men about their own affairs that you could imagine!"
"But-they say some of their securities are missing," remarked Betty. "They'll have to let the exact details be known, won't they?"