"Well, Polglaze?"
"This knocks me, Sir Silas," replied the detective, rubbing his shoulder that was beginning to forcibly remind him that oaken doors cannot be charged with impunity.
"Shall I see what those Scouts make of it?" asked the baronet, with a grim sense of humour.
"Let 'em have a shot at it, by all means, Sir Silas," said Polglaze. "This beats cockfighting."
But the Scouts had to own themselves beaten for the time being at least. They tried the walls, floor, chimney, and everything they could think of, but without success.
"I believe he got out by the chimney," suggested Sergeant Coombes, who, since his tumble, had judiciously kept silent in order to regain his breath.
"The soot hasn't been disturbed," said Atherton. "That's what I particularly noticed."
"All the same I say it's the chimney, young man," said the sergeant, with a brave show of dignity. "And until you prove to my satisfaction that 'tain't, well then, 'tis the chimney, I say."
"Don't stand there laying down the law, Coombes," said the detective. "Every minute Tassh is no doubt getting farther and farther away. Gregory, hurry back to the village and telephone through to all the stations nearabouts. Give the full details, although I'll stake my life there's hardly a policeman within twenty miles who doesn't know Paul Tassh."
At Mr Buckley's suggestion the Scouts made a complete circuit of the house, examining the ground for possible trails; but all to no purpose.