"Well," said Polke, "I did hear, some few years ago, that he was building something in that garden, but the work was done by Ecclesborough contractors, and nobody ever knew much about it here. I believe Joseph's a bit of an amateur experimenter--but I don't know what he experiments in. Nobody ever goes inside his house--he's a hermit." "He's got some sort of a forge there, anyhow," said Starmidge. "Or a furnace, or something of that sort." Then they talked of other things until half-past ten, when the detective retired to his inn and went to bed. He was sleeping soundly when a steady knocking at his door roused him, to hear the voice of his landlady outside. And at the same time he heard the big clock of the parish church striking midnight. "Mr. Starmidge!" said the voice, "there's a policeman wanting you. Will you go round at once to Mr. Polke's? There's a man come from London about that piece in the newspapers." CHAPTER XV MR. FREDERICK HOLLIS Starmidge hastily pulled some garments about him, and flinging a travelling-coat over his shoulders, hurried downstairs, to find a sleepy-looking policeman in the hall. "How did this man get here--at this time of night?" he asked, as they set off towards the police-station. "Came in a taxi-cab from Ecclesborough," answered the policeman. "I haven't heard any particulars, Mr. Starmidge, except that he'd read the news in the London paper this evening and set off here in consequence. He's in Mr. Polke's house, sir." Starmidge walked into the superintendent's parlour, to find him in company with a young man, whom the detective at once sized up as a typical London clerk--a second glance assured him that his clerkship was of the legal variety. "Here's Detective-Sergeant Starmidge," said Polke. "Starmidge, this gentleman's Mr. Simmons, from London. Mr. Simmons says he's clerk to a Mr. Hollis, a London solicitor. And, having read that description in the papers this last evening, he's certain that the man who came to the Station Hotel here on Saturday is his governor." Starmidge sat down and looked again at the visitor--a tall, sandy-haired, freckled young man, who was obviously a good deal puzzled. "Is Mr. Hollis missing, then?" asked Starmidge. Simmons looked as if he found it somewhat difficult to explain matters. "Well," he answered. "It's this way. I've never seen him since Saturday. And he hasn't been at his rooms--his private rooms--since Saturday. In the ordinary course he ought to have been at business first thing yesterday--we'd some very important business on yesterday morning, which wasn't done because of his absence. He never turned up yesterday at all--nor today either--we never heard from or of him. And so, when I read that description in the papers this evening, I caught the first express I could get down here--at least to Ecclesborough--I had to motor from there." "That description describes Mr. Hollis, then?" asked Starmidge.