“Canon Fittleworth,” said the other. “Well, that’s a help, anyhow. Now tell me about last night.” Webb told him how he had had leave to stay in Frattenbury, and that Templeton had mentioned he was going to dine there. A few more questions, and the superintendent glanced over his notes. “Well,” he said, “there’ll be an inquest, of course, and we shall want you, Webb. What are you thinking of doing?” Webb hesitated. “I don’t much fancy sleeping alone on the _Firefly_, sir. I could get a bed at the inn here, or my uncle at Frattenbury will put me up.” “All right, so long as you keep in touch with us. That’s all for the present. Thank you very much, Mr. Proctor. You can go, Webb.” Mr. Proctor rose from his chair, crossed the room and showed Webb out of the door. Then he took down a box from the shelf. “Can I offer you a cigar, Superintendent?” “Thanks very much.” The policeman lighted his cigar, looked over his notes for a few minutes, and then said: “You’re a good judge of cigars, Mr. Proctor.” “I am,” replied the little man with a smile. “This is a strange case.” “Um,” said the superintendent. “It’s too early to form an opinion yet. But one thing is fairly obvious. Whoever murdered Mr. Templeton must have known he was coming here and must have got out to that yacht after he returned from Frattenbury and was aboard her.” Mr. Proctor flicked the ash from the cigar he was smoking, and observed dryly: “Or have got aboard first, and waited for him there.” “What makes you say that?” asked the superintendent, looking up quickly. “Only because it’s just as obvious as your own theory. I thought it might be worth considering.” The superintendent reflected for a minute. “Yes—it is,” he admitted. “Now I must be going. I shall be back shortly.” Before he finally left for Frattenbury he pulled out to the _Firefly_ and had a few words with the detective-sergeant. “When you’ve finished here,” he said, “you’d better make a few inquiries on shore. Find out who owns the boats about here. One of them must have been used by the murderer, otherwise the dinghy wouldn’t have been here. Get to work among the people, and make a note of them, or of any strangers. I’m off to see the coroner. Also I’ve discovered that Templeton was probably dining with Canon Fittleworth last night. At any rate, he knew him. I’ll bring the Canon back with me if he’s able to come.” “Right, sir. I’ll do what I can.” After a last injunction to the constable on the shore, the superintendent entered his motor and drove off. “He ain’t took that ’ere man back with him, after all,” said the disappointed spectator who had fixed the crime onto the unfortunate Jim Webb. “And that’s what we pays our police for!” CHAPTER IV What Canon Fittleworth Found on the “Firefly”