“Very well, Major. Will you kindly send for Mr. Stephen Merrifield? His place of business is just opposite here.” “The corn merchant?” “Exactly. You’ll take his word, I suppose?” Without replying the Major sent for Merrifield. The little man went on: “When I first had a notion that you were suspecting me, Mr. Colson,” he said, addressing the detective, “was that Monday morning when I recovered my canoe. My nephew told me what you had asked him about disturbing me in the dark hours, and so on, and I knew you wouldn’t have said it without some reason. Also, I saw you were interested in that canoe being taken away—though for the life of me I can’t guess why. I put two and two together and came to the conclusion that you were trying to find out whether I had run off with my own canoe, and left it where it was pretty sure Phil would find it in the morning. And it puzzled me. But it also put me on my guard.” “Go on,” said the superintendent. “Well, then came the inquest. When the doctor said that death might have occurred after midnight, I was just a little perturbed—you’ll see why presently. I suppose I was the nearest person to Templeton—his yacht lay just opposite my house. And when Canon Fittleworth handed in that cigar band, for the moment I was fairly alarmed.” “That’s why you cha——” began the superintendent, but Colson stopped him with a warning gesticulation. “Eh?” asked Proctor. “Oh—nothing,” said the superintendent. “Go on, please.” “Although the Canon stated the cigar was one of his own special brand, I knew I had the same brand in my house. Why,” he said to the superintendent, “you smoked one yourself—on the Sunday morning, and remarked how good it was. Don’t you remember?” “I do,” said the superintendent, “but I never noticed the band.” “I was wondering if you had,” went on Proctor, with a smile. “Then I wanted the coroner to put a question to the Canon, but he wouldn’t allow it.” “What was the question?” asked Major Renshaw. “I only wanted him to ask whether the Canon could remember to whom he gave any of his cigars. But I concluded afterwards that you would examine the reverend gentleman pretty closely on that point. I gather you _did_, and came to the conclusion that it wasn’t in that quarter that you had to make your investigations.” “Meanwhile,” said Major Renshaw, “knowing you possessed the same brand of cigar, and in order to put us off your track——” But he was interrupted. A newcomer was shown in, a portly man with grey moustache and short beard and a round, jovial face. “Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Merrifield,” said the Chief Constable. “Do you mind waiting just a minute?” “Certainly, sir.” He looked round the room, nodded affably to Mr. Proctor, and took the seat which Colson offered him. “Go on, Mr. Proctor.”