Then the manager came to the rescue. He slipped from the room quickly—to return almost immediately with a large key-ring bearing keys of all shapes and sizes. Bannister’s attempts to open the case were eventually successful. He gave a grunt of satisfaction. Its contents were almost entirely clothes and toilet requisites. Clothes that one would reasonably anticipate finding in the suit-case of a young lady upon holiday in the summer. There was no letter, no card—nothing more personal than hair-brushes and face powder. The Inspector tossed the stuff back into the case. “Your job, Godfrey, will be to get into touch with the place from where this girl’s come. Send a ’phone message through to Kensington as soon as you can and use the Press for all your worth. Get the London papers humming to-morrow morning like flies. We shall soon get information about Daphne Carruthers, you mark my words, even if we can’t get it from the place where she lived.” He turned to Maynard. “I’ll take charge of this”—he patted the suit-case—“you Godfrey—get those strings to work at once. By the way, Martin—the motor-car that the young lady was driving—did you notice what it was?” Martin scratched his chin—then shook his head. “I didn’t sir, and that’s a fact. I was too much taken up with the young lady herself.” “H’m,” muttered Bannister, “that’s a pity—we must see what we can do in that direction to-morrow morning. That car must be traced, Godfrey. I expect we shall have a pretty ticklish day to-morrow—with one thing and another.” In which opinion Chief-Inspector Bannister was entirely accurate, although the day was destined also to have its compensations for him. Not the least of these compensations was his introduction to a certain Mr. Anthony Lotherington Bathurst. Even though Seabourne is a hundred and nine miles from Tranfield, and a trifle more than that from Westhampton—two places in which Mr. Bathurst had fully expected to be! Chapter VI Mr. Bathurst Changes His Destination