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May I use your telephone, Mr the friends heard the crackling Peabody Thanks."

Still smiling, he picked up the receiver and gave a number. Presently he got in touch with the steamship office, and asked for Dr Ashe-"He's the head doctor of the Line," he said to the listeners by way of explanation"Ah! Goodmorning, doctor; this is Thesiger speaking; yes, Inspector Thesiger of Scotland Yard; can you tell me where MacCormick of the Casabianca is to be found?"

of Dr Ashe's voice in the receiver. Inspector Thesiger listened without comment. His face was non-committal. Presently he said: "Thanks very much, doctor yes, that's all good-bye," and rang off.

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"Well?" asked Peabody.

"He has left them," said Inspector Thesiger grimly. "He resigned about a week after I saw him. Ashe doesn't know where he is now, but he thinks he has gone to Aus

A pause ensued, during which tralia."

CHAPTER XI.-RE-ENTER THE RED-FACED MAN.

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there could not be the faintest chance of proving anything? But I can't for the life of me see any reason to construct a murder out of a perfectly simple case of drowning. Granted that this fellow who called himself Northbrook was passing under an assumed name, and granted that he was an adventurer and probably a bad man, you'll find that you have to take a devil of a lot more for granted before you can plant the murder of his wife on him. Confound it, Peabody," he continued, laughing, "you've got me all excited with your nonsense. Write your story, can't you, and leave me in peace. I've got plenty of work to do without chasing any wild geese. Now I'll tell you my last word. These two young fellows that I have in training

the ones that wiped your

an interesting job at the mo-
ment, and I'll put them on to
trace out the history of that
finger. They don't know any-
thing about the case, and we'll
see what they make out of it.
If they come to the same
conclusion as you have done,
then I'll take the thing up
again. Would you like
you like to
have a bet about it?"

"No thanks," laughed Mr Peabody. "I've had enough of your bets. I'll try and forget about it until they make their reports. I propose to see if I can enjoy life this winter."

eye, Peabody-are short of "He is a very nice fellow," the letter continued. “I began my inquiries as soon as we got to Sydney, and found him at once. He has just set up in practice there. He is a married man, and has got two children. He remembered the Northbrook case perfectly, and told me all about it. His story to me was just the same as he told it to you, but he gave me the professional side of the case, and I am perfectly satisfied that he is all right. The reason that he left the Casabianca is curious. It seems that Northbrook gave him a tip to back Catapult in the Oxfordshire Stakes, and he did, got 20 to 1, plunged heavily, and cleaned up enough to pay his own and his wife's passage out here and buy a practice into the bargain. I am afraid that your friend Thesiger may be right after all. MacCormick won't discuss the theory of foul play at all; says it is ridiculous. I hope to be back early in April, and will come and see you. Please give my apologies to Thesiger when you see him."

"And I," said Dr Costello, as the inspector rose to go, "will see if I can trace the whereabouts of Dr MacCormick while I am in Australia."

Mr Peabody had said that he proposed to spend the winter enjoying himself, and he kept his word. Winter sports at St Moritz and desultory gambling at Monte Carlo kept him amused through January and February, and it was not until well on in March that he found his way back to his comfortable flat in Victoria Mr Peabody had not seen Street. A few days after his Inspector Thesiger since early return, a letter bearing an in January, and had heard Australian stamp recalled young nothing from him during that Dr Costello to his mind. The time. Now he rang him up letter was dated from Mel- on the telephone, and asked bourne, and said that a mail him to dinner. The inspector was just leaving, and, though expressed his regret. the writer thought that his too busy for dining out, he own ship might get home first, said. Had a troublesome case he was taking this chance to on his hands that he wanted tell Mr Peabody about his to finish up before the end of meeting with Dr MacCormick. the month, as he intended to

go down to Liverpool for the Grand National if he could get away. Could Mr Peabody go with him? He would like a companion, and he had had a straight tip to back Arquebus. They could talk things over in the train. Mr Peabody answered that he would be honoured, and that after the victory of Catapult in the Oxfordshire, he felt sure that Arquebus would romp home, and he told the inspector the gist of Dr Costello's letter. Thesiger laughed.

"Good," he said. "That settles it. Meet me at Euston, then, at 8.30 on Friday week."

Though Mr Peabody had little interest in matters connected with horses, he had enough superficial knowledge of the jargon of the turf to follow his companion's comments as they elbowed their way through the crowds at Aintree on that morning of bright sun and biting showers. But it would have been a blasé person indeed who would not have felt a glow of excitement as the day wore on and the hour of the great race approached. They had placed their bets on Arquebus early, obtaining 10 to 1 from a gentleman who styled himself

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their way towards their stand, jostled on all sides by excited punters intent on laying lastminute bets. The hum of voices swelled into a roar, the bellows of the bookies calling out the out the odds being almost drowned in the general tumult. They had almost reached the edge of the crowd when Mr Peabody saw above the sea of heads a flaming scarlet face which seemed strangely familiar. He paused a moment for another look, and in that moment Inspector Thesiger was separated from him by a crowd of people who surged in between them. It was at this point that the scarlet-faced bookmaker stopped his bawling for an instant to remove his white top hat and wipe the sweat from his steaming brow. In a flash Mr Peabody recalled the red-faced man in Azalea Mansions.

"Thesiger!" he yelled, turning in the direction of his friend. Thesiger, come here a second."

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But the inspector did not hear his shouts above the din, and was making for his place in the stands, heedless of all else save the horses. Mr Peabody hesitated for a moment, and then, turning again towards the bookmaker, began to push his way through the crowd in the direction of the striped umbrella under which the red face glowed fiercely above the tossing heads.

He had managed to get within a few yards of the stand when a curious thing

happened. The bookmaker, voice had a subtle change of inflection in it. "I don't know any one of the name of Northbrook. My name is Taylor, and I come from Melbourne, if that's any good to you."

whom a sign proclaimed to be "Harry Scarlett-Always Pays," had for a moment ceased his shouting to take a bet from a patron, when, on straightening himself again preliminary to a final vocal effort, he appeared to see a familiar figure in the crowd, for, with a yell of "Northbrook, by God!" he leaped from his stool and proceeded to cleave through the throng in the the direction of his quarry. Though Mr Peabody could not see the object of the chase, he made haste to follow, and, taking advantage of the wake left by the tumultuous passage of Mr Harry Scarlett, he reached that gentleman just as he laid a compelling hand on the collar of a man who seemed intent on making his way towards the railings.

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Northbrook, you dirty dog, I've got you at last!" shouted Mr Scarlett.

The man spun round in the grip of his captor, revealing a thin, sun-burnt, clean-shaven face. He appeared to be more surprised than angry.

"Here, let go, dammit," he said, shaking off the other's grip. "My name isn't Northbrook; you've made a mistake."

Mr Harry Scarlett seemed to have a moment of doubt. His hand dropped to his side. "You've shaved off your moustache," he growled; "but your voice is the same.'

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"You're barking up the wrong tree, old man," said the man good-humouredly, and his VOL. CCXX.-NO. MCCCXXIX.

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At this psychological moment a bell rang loudly. There was a shout of "They're off!" and a rush of people making for the stands and the rails swept in between Mr Peabody and the disputants. He saw "Mr Taylor" shake off his captor's arm, and heard him cry, "Oh, go to blazes, I want to see the race," and then he was borne away in the swirl of the crowd like a cork in a mill-race, and Mr Harry Scarlett and his white top hat were lost to view. Pursuit was out of the question, and, turning towards the stands, he managed, by herculean efforts, to reach Inspector Thesiger just in time to see Arquebus fall two fences from home.

As soon as the race was over, Mr Peabody attempted to tell his companion about his encounter with the red-faced bookmaker, but Inspector Thesiger was in no mood for such trifles, and in any case the maelstrom of the crowd surging towards the exits rendered conversation impossible. glanced doubtfully in the direction of Mr Scarlett's stand, where he knew that gentleman should now be paying out to

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He

those fortunate people who are going to gain much by had backed the winner. He felt that he ought to make his way through the press and find out what he could about Northbrook, but the difficulties appeared to be insurmountable, his reception, if he did succeed in reaching the bookmaker, doubtful, and the certainty of missing his train to Town, combined with his unwillingness to abandon his companion, led him to adopt his usual plan of taking the line of least resistance, and he allowed himself to be carried away with the crowd.

In the train on the way to London, Inspector Thesiger listened with interest, but without enthusiasm, to the story.

"It may have been Northbrook," he remarked at the end, "but I don't see that we

proving it. I have no doubt that we could establish his identity, but it would mean a lot of expense in collecting witnesses and that sort of thing. No, Peabody, I'm afraid I can do nothing officially; but, of course, there's no reason why you should not go after it yourself if it interests you. By the way, my youngsters have not given me any reports yet; it must be a bigger job than I thought. I must look into it and see that they are not wasting their time."

And with that Mr Peabody had to be content. His interest was stimulated, however, and he determined not to let the matter rest until he had hunted up Mr Taylor of Melbourne and found out more about him.

CHAPTER XII. THE SEARCH FOR MR TAYLOR.

For ten days Mr Peabody kept up his efforts. He had a very distinct picture in his mind of the appearance of Mr Taylor as he had seen him for a moment in the crowd that day at Aintree: medium height, spare frame, sun-burnt clean-shaved face, blue eyes (he thought), and probably dark hair, but this he only surmised from the general appearance and complexion; bowler hat and dark-blue overcoat-altogether a nice-looking fellow and well dressed.

He had no idea as to how to set about his search, but he

thought that London offered the more promising startingpoint. He visited Morley's Hotel in Trafalgar Square first, as being a hostelry mainly associated in his mind with Colonial visitors. The register showed a Mr and Mrs Taylor of Brisbane, and he wasted a day in trying to see them, only to find an elderly couple in no way resembling the object of his search. Hotel after hotel was reviewed, and disappointment succeeded disappointment. He began to realise that his prospects of success by this method were small indeed.

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