"But I shall be a good deal relieved if we can get some definite news about him." The first half-hour at Northborough yielded nothing definite.

A telephone message from Rothwell had just come to the theatre when they drove up to it--nothing had so far been heard of the missing man at Norcaster--either at theatre or hotel.

Stafford and Copplestone hurried across to the "Golden Apple" and interviewed its proprietor; he, keenly interested in the affair, could tell no more than that Mr.Bassett Oliver, having sent his luggage forward to Norcaster, had left the house on foot at eleven o'clock the previous morning, and had been seen to walk across the market-place in the direction of the railway station.

But an old head-waiter, who had served the famous actor's breakfast, was able to give some information; Mr.Oliver, he said, had talked a little to him about the coast scenery between Northborough and Norcaster, and had asked him which stretch of it was worth seeing.

It was his impression that Mr.
Oliver meant to break his journey somewhere along the coast.
"Of course, that's it," said Stafford, as he and Copplestone drove off again.