"No, sir."

The taxi-cab turned swiftly into the shady avenue of Tanton Gardens,
where Sir Horace Fewbanks lived, and in a few moments pulled up outside
of Riversbrook. The house stood a long way back from the road in its own
grounds. Inspector Seldon and Flack passed rapidly through the grounds
and reached the front door of the mansion. There was nobody about; the
place seemed deserted, and the blinds were down on the ground-floor
windows. Inspector Seldon knocked loudly at the front door with the big,
old-fashioned brass knocker, and rang the bell. He listened intently for
a response, but no sound followed except the sharp note of the electric
bell as Flack rang it again while Inspector Seldon bent down with his ear
at the keyhole. Then the inspector stepped back and regarded the house
keenly for a moment or two.

"Put your finger on that bell and keep on ringing it, Flack," he said
suddenly. "I see that some of the blinds are down, but there's one on the
first floor which is partly up. It looks as though the house had been
shut up and somebody had come back unexpectedly."

"Perhaps it's Hill, the butler," said Flack.

"If he's inside he ought to answer the bell. But keep on ringing while I
knock again."

The heavy brass knocker again reverberated on the thick oak door, and
Inspector Seldon placed his ear against the keyhole to ascertain if any
sound was to be heard.

"Take your finger off that bell, Flack," he commanded. "I cannot hear