"Just a few small inquiries, sir," replied Easleby. "I haven't the pleasure of knowing your name—Mr.——?"
"Stipp's my name, sir," answered the manager promptly. "Stipp—James Stipp."
"Thank you, sir," said Easleby, with great politeness. "Well, Mr. Stipp, you see from our cards who we are. We've called on you—as representing Mr. Godwin Markham—on behalf—informally, Mr. Stipp—of Mrs. Lester, of Lowdale Court, Chesham."
Mr. Stipp's face showed a little surprise at this announcement, and he glanced from one man to the other as if he were puzzled.
"Oh!" he said. "Dear me! Why—what has Mrs. Lester called you in for?"
Easleby, who had brought another marked newspaper with him, laid it on the manager's desk.
"You've no doubt read of this Scarnham affair, Mr. Stipp?" he asked, pointing to his own blue pencillings. "Most people have, I think. Or perhaps it's escaped your notice."
"Hardly could!" answered Mr. Stipp, with a friendly smile. "Yes—I've read it. Most extraordinary! One of the most puzzling cases I ever did read. Are you in at it? But this call hasn't anything to do with that, surely? If it has—what?"
"This much," answered Easleby. "Mrs. Lester has told us, of course, that her son, the young officer, is in debt to your governor. Well, last week, Mrs. Lester handed a certain sum of money to the Mr. Frederick Hollis who's been found dead at Scarnham, to be applied to the settlement of her son's liability in that respect."
Mr. Stipp showed undoubted surprise at this announcement.