It was the loneliest spot French had yet seen. On both sides stretched the moor, rolling away into the distance. To the north the ground rose gently; to the south it fell to the valley of a river before swelling up to a line of more distant highlands. Some three miles to the west lay the grey buildings of Princeton, the only human habitations visible save for a few isolated cottages dotted about at wide intervals. The road was unfenced and ran in a snaky line across the greens and browns of the heather and rough grass. Here and there spots of brighter green showed, and to these the sergeant pointed. “Those are soft places,” he said. “Over there towards the south is Fox Tor Mire, a biggish swamp, and there are others in the same direction. On the north side are small patches, but nothing like the others.” “In which direction did the men go?” “Northwards.” The sergeant walked a few yards down the road, expounding as he did so. “The car was pulled in to the side of the road here. There is the patch of sandy soil that the footsteps crossed, and that is the direction they were going in.” “Which way was the car heading?” “Towards Ashburton.” “Were the lamps lighted?” “Yes, sir. Small lamps, burning dimly, but good enough to show the car was there.” “It was a dark night?” “Very dark for the time of year.” French nodded. “Now when you came out here tell me what you did.” “I looked round, and when I couldn’t see anyone I felt the radiator and opened the bonnet and looked at and felt the engine. Both were cold, but I couldn’t see anything wrong. Then I took the lamp off my bicycle and looked further around. I found the footsteps—if you’ve read the papers you’ll know about them—and I wondered where they could be heading to. I thought of Colonel Domlio’s and I went to the house and roused the colonel.” “Across the moor?” “Yes, sir.” “But were you not afraid of the quagmires?” “No. It was then a clear night and I had a good acetylene lamp. I thought maybe the gentlemen had met with an accident on the way and that I’d better go over the ground. I walked carefully and kept on hard earth all the way.” “Well, you aroused the colonel?” “Yes, sir, and a job I had to do it. But he could give me no help.” “Yes? And then?” “Colonel Domlio wanted to come out with me, but I said there was nothing he could do. I left Constable Hughes with the car and ran back into Ashburton to give the news. I told Mrs. Berlyn and then I got all my men out with lamps and we went back and began a detailed search of the ground. We kept it up until the whole place had been gone over by daylight, but we found nothing.” “Now this Colonel Domlio. What kind of man is he?” “A rather peculiar man, if I may say so. He’s practically the owner of the Veda Company now since Mr. Berlyn’s gone. He lives here alone except for the servants. There’s a man and his wife indoors and a gardener and a chauffeur outside. He must have plenty of money, the colonel.”