"That looks like an inn," he said. "I think I can make out a sign on the gable-end. Let's go down there and inquire. He would get here just about time for lunch, wouldn't he, and he'd probably turn in there. Also--they may have a telephone there, and you can call up the theatre at Norcaster and find out if anything's been heard yet." Stafford smiled approvingly and started out in the direction of the buildings towards which Copplestone had pointed. "Excellent notion!" he said. "You're quite a business man--an unusual thing in authors, isn't it? Come on, then--and that is an inn, too--I can make out the sign now--The 'Admiral's Arms'--Mary Wooler. Let's hope Mary Wooler, who's presumably the landlady, can give us some useful news!" The "Admiral's Arms" proved to be an old-fashioned, capacious hostelry, eminently promising and comfortable in appearance, which stood on the edge of a broad shelf of headland, and commanded a fine view of the little village and the bay. Stafford and Copplestone, turning in at the front door, found themselves in a deep, stone-paved hall, on one side of which, behind a bar window, a pleasant-faced, buxom woman, silk-aproned and smartly-capped, was busily engaged in adding up columns of figures in a big account-book. At sight of strangers she threw open a door and smilingly invited them to walk into a snugly furnished bar-parlour where a bright fire burned in an open hearth. Stafford gave his companion a look--this again was just the sort of old-world place which would appeal to Basset Oliver, supposing he had come across it. "I wonder if you can give me some information?" he asked presently, when the good-looking landlady had attended to their requests for refreshment. "I suppose you are the landlady--Mrs. Wooler? Well, now, Mrs. Wooler, did you have a tall, handsome, slightly grey-haired gentleman in here to lunch yesterday--say about one o'clock?" The landlady turned on her questioner with an intelligent smile. "You mean Mr. Oliver, the actor?" she said. "Good!" exclaimed Stafford, with a hearty sigh of relief. "I do! You know him, then?" "I've often seen him, both at Northborough and at Norcaster," replied Mrs. Wooler. "But I never saw him here before yesterday. Oh, yes! of course I knew him as soon as he walked in, and I had a bit of chat with him before he went out, and he remarked that though he'd been coming into these parts for some years, he'd never been to Scarhaven before--usually, he said, he'd gone inland of a Sunday, amongst the hills. Oh, yes, he was here--he had lunch here." "We're seeking him," said Stafford, going directly to the question. "He ought to have turned up at the 'Angel Hotel' at Norcaster last night, and at the theatre today at noon--he did neither. I'm his business manager, Mrs. Wooler. Now can you tell us anything--more than you've already told, I mean?" The landlady, whose face expressed more and more concern as Stafford spoke, shook her head.