With a thrill he saw by the number that it was one of the missing notes. Then a doubt came; surely these people were not quite so simple as that; all their conduct was against it.
He rang the bell, for the time for further disguise had passed.
“Can you tell me,” he said sternly, “where you got this note?”
The woman gave a baffling look of innocent surprise.
“I don’t know, sir, I’ll ask my husband.”
She returned with the innkeeper, who had the same air of innocence.
“That note, sir, we doesn’t ’ave notes ’ere as a rule, but I changed this for young Mr. Sefton, the medico from the Bungalows. ’E ’ad some food ’ere t’other day.”
There was nothing more to be done here, so taking his bag, he departed, but he had not gone far towards Bungalow Town, where he was determined to stay, when he was met by Sergeant Andrews with startling news.
Chapter VIII.
“The Red Cote”
Sergeant Andrews was a shrewd man and ambitious. He had been rather offended when the Reckavile case had been taken out of his hands, and was not particularly pleased when he heard that an official as young as Fletcher had been sent down by Scotland Yard, but he showed nothing of this in his manner when he addressed him.