Although the “Big Six” of Scotland Yard are invested by an admiring public with superhuman powers, and attributes that border upon the magical, they are for all that, as human as that same circle of admirers. Which fact, doubtless, has brought comfort to the heart of many a hunted criminal when he has brought himself to realise it. In this relation, probably the most human of “the Six” was Chief Detective-Inspector Richard Bannister—known to his colleagues and to a host of friends as “Dandy Dick.” One of the most certain and regular indications of this humanity, to which allusion has just been made, is the desire at intervals, to rest from the exigencies of work and to take a holiday. At any rate, that was the particular trait that usually manifested itself in the case of Chief-Inspector Bannister. Three years of strenuous activities had seen him bring during their passing at least half-a-dozen of the “Yard’s” biggest “cases” to successful and triumphant conclusions. On that account, therefore, he had no compunctions in taking a month’s vacation at Seabourne. The place had always attracted him exceedingly when he had been in a position to enjoy short stays there on previous occasions, and now on a much longer spell it seemed to possess for him an even greater measure of attraction. On the July evening in question he shifted his body to a more comfortable position in the deck-chair which he was occupying and lazily inclined his head to catch more clearly the strains of the Military Band playing in the band-stand on the magnificent promenade of which Seabourne is so justifiably proud. It was a perfect summer evening—the true fulfilment of a perfect summer day. A day of blue sky and majestic sun! The sea was beautifully calm and lapped the beach in a ceaseless creaming succession of lazy, indolent ripples, and now the stars were flashing into the night-sky one by one, as though they were tiny lights turned on by a giant hand. Bannister stretched his long legs from his deck-chair in complete physical enjoyment. As he did so a tall man came down the superbly-kept lawn that fronted the “Cassandra” Hotel and sank comfortably into the deck-chair next to Bannister. He nodded genially. “Glorious evening—I told you last night we were in for a perfect day to-day.” “I remember,” replied Bannister. “You did.” He went on: “My luck as regards weather is absolutely in. I’ve actually had a week of uninterrupted sunshine—which I should imagine—speaking without the book—approaches a record for a summer holiday in England. Certainly, I’ve rarely been so fortunate in the past.” He removed the horn-rimmed glasses that he had been using as a protection against the glare of the sun and carefully wiped them with a silk handkerchief.