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
