"Very kind of you, I'm sure," laughed Neale. "But I think I'm inclined to put breweries in the same line with banks. Don't you be too rash, Betty--I'm not exactly cut out for commercialism. Not," he added reflectively, "not that I haven't been a very good servant to Chestermarke's. I have! But Chestermarkes are--what they are!" The Earl, who had been watching the two young people with something of amused interest, suddenly came forward from the window. "Mr. Neale!" he said. "My lord!" responded Neale. "What's your honest opinion about your late principals?" asked the Earl. Neale shook his head slowly and significantly. "I don't know," he answered. "Do you know that they've--just now--refused Miss Fosdyke permission to examine her uncle's belongings?" continued the Earl. "That they wouldn't even let her enter the house?" "No, I didn't know," replied Neale. "But I'm not surprised. Nothing that those two could do would ever surprise me." "Feeling that, what do you advise in this case?" asked the Earl. "Come!--you're no longer in their employ--you can speak freely now. What do you think?" "Well," said Neale, after a pause, and speaking with unusual gravity, "I think the police ought to make a thorough examination of the bank-house--I'm surprised it hasn't been thought of before." The Earl picked up his hat. "I've been thinking of it all the morning!" he said. "Come--let us all go round to Polke." CHAPTER XI THE SEARCH-WARRANT As they turned out of the Market-Place into the street leading to the police-station, Lord Ellersdeane and his companions became aware of a curious figure which was slowly preceding them--that of a very old man whose massive head and long white hair, falling in thick shocks about his neck, was innocent of covering, whose tall, erect form was closely wrapped about in a great, many-caped horseman's cloak which looked as if it had descended to him from some early Georgian ancestor. In one hand he carried a long staff; the other clutched an ancient folio; altogether he was something very much out of the common, and Neale, catching sight of him, nudged Betty Fosdyke's elbow and pointed ahead. "One of the sights of Scarnham!" he whispered. "Old Batterley, the antiquary. Never seen with a hat, and never without that cloak, his staff, and a book under his arm. You needn't be astonished if he suddenly stops and begins reading his book in the open street--it's a habit of his." But the antiquary apparently had other business. He turned into the police-station, and when the three visitors followed him a moment later, he was already in Polke's private office, and Polke and Starmidge were gazing speculatively at him. Polke turned to the newcomers, as the old man, having fitted on a pair of large spectacles, recognized the Earl and executed a deep bow.