“Got fixed up in your new house yet, Sir Clinton?” asked Cecil Chacewater, as they sauntered together up one of the paths in the Ravensthorpe grounds. “It must be a bit of a change from South Africa⁠—...

“How time flies!” said Joan Chacewater, in mock despondency. “Tonight I’m in my prime. Tomorrow I shall be twenty-one, with all my bright youth behind me. Five years after that, I shall quite possibly...

“I’m thankful I took my wings off,” said Ariel, leaning back in her chair with a soft sigh of satisfaction. “You’ve no notion how much you long to sit down when you know you daren’t do it for fear of ...

In earlier days, Michael Clifton had been reckoned among the more creditable runners in the School Mile; and he had never allowed himself to fall out of training. Thus as he joined the throng of would...

“There’s the light on again in the museum,” Sir Clinton observed. “I think we’ll go in and have a look round, now, to see if the place suggests anything.” Mold stood aside to let them pass, and then r...

Mr. Foss had nothing distinctively American in his appearance, Sir Clinton noted; and when he spoke, his accent was so faint as to be hardly detectable. He was a stout man of about fifty, with a clean...

“I was afraid of it,” Sir Clinton observed, as he lifted the dripping pole with which he had been sounding the water of the lakelet. “The net will be no good, Inspector. With these spikes of rock jutt...

Sir Clinton cut short the shrill ringing of his desk telephone by picking up the receiver. “The Chief Constable speaking,” he informed his inquirer. Michael Clifton’s voice sounded over the wire. “Can...

As the door closed behind Michael Clifton, the Chief Constable turned to the Inspector. “Now we can get to business, Inspector. Let’s have a look round the place at leisure, and perhaps the surgeon wi...

When Sir Clinton reached his office on the morning after the murder at Ravensthorpe, he found Inspector Armadale awaiting him with a number of exhibits. “I’ve brought everything that seemed worth whil...

When Inspector Armadale presented himself at the Chief Constable’s office next morning he found Sir Clinton still faithful to his proposed policy of pooling all the facts of the case. “I’ve just been ...

Sir Clinton’s map-drawing, however, was destined to be postponed. Hardly had they entered his office when the telephone bell rang. After a few moments’ conversation he put down the receiver and turned...

Punctually at half-past twelve the Inspector arrived at Sir Clinton’s house. The Chief Constable’s first glance was at the feet of his subordinate. “Tennis shoes? That’s right. Now, Inspector, I want ...

“I’ve made all the necessary arrangements, sir,” Inspector Armadale reported to the Chief Constable on the following evening. “A dozen constables⁠—two with rubber-soled shoes⁠—and a couple of sergeant...

“It’s a pleasure to meet Sir Clinton again,” Joan observed when they had finished their coffee. “For the last ten days or so, I’ve been dealing with a man they call the Chief Constable. I don’t much c...