"You have the search warrant?' "Yes, sir."
"Send the rest of your men down to search the rectory, and come with us."
Saunders moved slightly. His eyes were reddish round the lids, and had an expression like marbles. He still wore his steady smile.
"Move over," Dr. Fell ordered, composedly. "I'll sit beside you. Oh, and by the way! — I shouldn't keep fiddling with that handkerchief, if I were you. Your constant use of a handkerchief is too well known. We found one of 'em in the hiding-place in the well, and I rather imagined the initials stood for Thomas Saunders instead of Timothy Starberth. The last word old Timothy said before he died was `handkerchief.' He saw to it ' that a clue was left behind, even beside that manuscript."
Saunders, moving over to make room, calmly spread the handkerchief out on his knee so that it was in full view. Dr. Fell chuckled.
"You don't still insist your name is Thomas Saunders, do you?" he enquired. A motion of his cane indicated Sir Benjamin coming towards them with the tall brown man carrying the large valise. Piercing across the open space, a high and querulous voice was complaining:
"— about what the devil this means. I had some friends to visit, and I wrote Tom not to meet me until Thursday; then he cabled me to the boat to come down here directly, on a matter of life or death, and specified trains, and―"
"I sent the cable," said Dr. Fell. "It's a good thing I did. Our friend would have disappeared by Thursday. He had already persuaded Sir Benjamin to urge him to disappear.
The tall man stopped short, pushing back his hat.
"Listen," he said, with a sort of wild patience. "Is everybody stark, raving mad? First Ben won't talk sense, and now — who are you?"