"I should say they finished him as well," said Easleby. "Easy enough job, that, on the evidence. Supposing one of 'em took Hollis off, alone, across that moor you've told me about, and induced him to look into that old lead-mine? What easier than to push him into it? Meanwhile, the other could settle Horbury. Murder, my lad!—that's what all this comes to. I've known men murdered for less than that."
Again Starmidge reflected in silence.
"There's only one thing puzzles me on that point," he said eventually. "It's not a puzzle, either—it's a doubt. Do you think the Chestermarkes—or, we'll say Gabriel, as we're certain about him—do you think Gabriel would be so keen about keeping his secret as to go to that length? Do you think he's cultivated it as a secret—that it's been a really important secret?"
"We can soon solve that," answered Easleby. "At least—tomorrow morning."
"How?" demanded Starmidge.
"By calling," said Easleby, "on Mr. Godwin Markham, in Conduit Street."
CHAPTER XXIV
MRS. CARSWELL?
Starmidge looked at his companion as if in doubt about Easleby's exact meaning.