John Bradfield, who had reached the library door, reeled abruptly round.
“Got away—again? Good heavens!”
Mr. Graham-Shute was fidgetting nervously about the room. Stelfox stood like a rock.
“Then why—why on earth don’t you go after him?” said Mr. Graham-Shute.
John Bradfield interrupted his querulous questions.
“When did you find it out, and what have you done?”
“I found it out a couple of hours ago, sir, and I’ve been hunting high and low ever since, and I’ve had some of the men helping me. Of course, it all had to be done on the quiet, so as not to frighten the ladies.”
“Yes, for heaven’s sake don’t let my wife hear of it,” moaned Mr. Graham-Shute, “or she’ll give us twice as much trouble as any lunatic. Do you think he’s anywhere about the house?”
Stelfox glanced at his master, who had turned deadly white at the suggestion.
“I don’t think so, sir.”