much difficulty. Superintendent Battle came to the rescue.
'Perhaps we'd better not go into that just now, sir,' he suggested tactfully.
The efficient Mr. Bateman created a further diversion.
'Wouldn't it be wise for someone to see to O'Rourke? Don't you think, sir, that a doctor had better be sent for?'
'Of course,' said George. 'Of course. Most remiss of us not to have thought of it before.' He looked towards Bill. 'Get Dr. Cartwright on the telephone. Ask him to come. Just hint, if you can, that – er – discretion should be observed.'
Bill went off on his errand.
'I will come up with you, Digby,' said George. 'Something, possibly, could be done – measures should, perhaps, be taken – whilst awaiting the arrival of the doctor.'
He looked rather helplessly at Rupert Bateman. Efficiency always makes itself felt. It was Pongo who was really in charge of the situation.
'Shall I come up with you, sir?'
George accepted the offer with relief. Here, he felt, was someone on whom he could lean. He experienced that sense of complete trust in Mr. Bateman's efficiency which came to all those who encountered that excellent young man.
The three men left the room together. Lady Coote, murmuring in deep rich tones: 'The poor young fellow. Perhaps I could do something –' hurried after them.
'That's a very motherly woman,' observed the Superintendent thoughtfully. 'A very motherly woman. I wonder –'
Three pairs of eyes looked at him inquiringly.
'I was wondering,' said Superintendent Battle slowly, 'where Sir Oswald Coote may be.'
'Oh!' gasped Loraine. 'Do you think he's been murdered?'
Battle shook his head at her reproachfully.
'No need for anything so melodramatic,' he said. 'No – I rather think –'
He paused, his head on one side, listening – one large hand raised to enjoin silence.
In another minute they all heard what his sharper ears had been the first to notice.
Footsteps coming along the terrace outside.
They rang out clearly with no kind of subterfuge about them. In another minute the window was blocked by a bulky figure which stood there regarding them and who conveyed, in an odd way, a sense of dominating the situation.
Sir Oswald, for it was he, looked slowly from one face to another. His keen eyes took in the details of the situation. Jimmy, with his roughly bandaged arm; Bundle, in her somewhat anomalous attire; Loraine, a perfect stranger to him. His eyes came last to Superintendent Battle. He spoke sharply and crisply:
'What's been happening here, officer?'
'Attempted robbery, sir.'
'Attempted –'
'Thanks to this young lady, Miss Wade, the thieves failed to get away with it.'
'Ah!' he said again, his scrutiny ended. 'And now, officer, what about this?'
He held out a small Mauser pistol which he carried delicately by the butt.
'Where did you find that, Sir Oswald?'
'On the lawn outside. I presume it must have been thrown down by one of the thieves as he took to his heels. I've held it carefully, as I thought you might wish to examine it for fingerprints.'
'You think of everything, Sir Oswald,' said Battle .
He took the pistol from the other, handling it with equal care, and laid it down on the table beside Jimmy's Colt.
'And now, if you please,' said Sir Oswald, 'I should like to hear exactly what occurred.'
Superintendent Battle gave a brief resume of the events of the night. Sir Oswald frowned thoughtfully.
'I understand,' he said sharply. 'After wounding and disabling Mr. Thesiger, the man took to his heels and ran, throwing away the pistol as he did so. What I cannot understand is why no one pursued him.'
'It wasn't till we heard Mr. Thesiger's story that we knew there was anyone to pursue,' remarked Superintendent Battle dryly.
'You didn't – er – catch sight of him making off as you turned the corner of the terrace?'
'No, I missed him by just about forty seconds, I should say. There's no moon and he'd be invisible as soon as he'd left the terrace. He must have leapt for it as soon as he'd fired the shot.'
'H'm,' said Sir Oswald. 'I still think that a search should have been organised. Someone else should have been posted –'
'There are three of my men in the grounds,' said the Superintendent quietly.
'Oh!' Sir Oswald seemed rather taken aback.
'They were to hold and detain anyone attempting to leave the grounds.'
'And yet – they haven't done so?'
'And yet they haven't done so,' agreed Battle gravely.
Sir Oswald looked at him as though something in the words puzzled him. He said sharply:
'Are you telling me all that you know, Superintendent Battle?'
'All that I know – yes, Sir Oswald. What I think is a different matter. Maybe I think some rather curious things – but until thinking's got you somewhere it's no use talking about it.'
'And yet,' said Sir Oswald slowly, 'I should like to know what you think, Superintendent Battle.'
'For one thing, sir, I think there's a lot too much ivy about this place – excuse me, sir, you've got a bit on your coat – yes, a great deal too much ivy. It complicates things.'
Sir Oswald stared at him, but any reply he might have contemplated making was arrested by the entrance of Rupert Bateman.
'Oh, there you are, Sir Oswald. I'm so glad. Lady Coote has just discovered that you were missing – and she has been insisting upon it that you had been murdered by the thieves. I really think, Sir Oswald, that you had better come to her at once. She is terribly upset.'
'Maria is an incredibly foolish woman,' said Sir Oswald. 'Why should I be murdered? I'll come with you, Bateman.'
He left the room with his secretary.
'That's a very efficient young man,' said Battle , looking after them. 'What's his name – Bateman?'
Jimmy nodded.
'Bateman – Rupert,' he said. 'Commonly known as Pongo. I was at school with him.'
'Were you? Now, that's interesting, Mr. Thesiger. What was your opinion of him in those days?'
'Oh, he was always the same sort of ass.'
'I shouldn't have thought,' said Battle mildly, 'that he was an ass.'
'Oh, you know what I mean. Of course he wasn't really an ass. Tons of brains and always swotting at things. But deadly serious. No sense of humour.'
'Ah!' said Superintendent Battle. 'That's a pity. Gentlemen who have no sense of humour get to taking themselves too seriously – and that leads to mischief.'
'I can't imagine Pongo getting into mischief,' said Jimmy. 'He's done extremely well for himself so far – dug himself in with old Coote and looks like being a permanency in the job.'
'Superintendent Battle,' said Bundle.
'Yes, Lady Eileen?'
'Don't you think it very odd that Sir Oswald didn't say what he was doing wandering about in the garden in the middle of the night?'
'Ah!' said Battle . 'Sir Oswald's a great man – and a great man always knows better than to explain unless an explanation is demanded. To rush into explanations and excuses is always a sign of weakness. Sir Oswald knows that as well as I do. He's not going to come in explaining and apologising – not he. He just stalks in and hauls me over the coals. He's a big man, Sir Oswald.'
Such a warm admiration sounded in the Superintendent's tones that Bundle pursued the subject no
