“He’s been dead for months, apparently,” said Shelley. “I couldn’t get much sense out of them, though. I must get back to the Yard to sift this information, and I want you to get hold of this man Baker. Grill him all you can, and see if he has any sort of alibi for yesterday. That’s not vitally important, as anyone might have put the poisoned sweet in Arnell s packet at any time, knowing that he’d be certain to eat it sooner or later. Still, it’s a point worth investigating. Hope to God he isn’t on the ’phone. Still, you must try to get him before the fair Violet has had time to warn him.”

“Any particular points, chief?” asked Cunningham eagerly. This was a great rise for him, to be given the job of questioning the man who was at any rate temporarily the principal suspect.

“No. I leave that to your discretion entirely. You know my methods, Watson,” said Shelley with a grin. “I must get back to the Yard. I must hie me to London.”

“And I must hie me to Baker,” said Cunningham. “Wonder what he’ll have to say.”

“Not much,” said Shelley. But he was wrong.

Chapter V

Chapter V

Cunningham Investigates

It was with some trepidation that Cunningham approached the entrance to the school. It was a boarding-school, and some of the staff, including Mr. Henry Baker, “lived in.” Cunningham felt both elated and worried, for this was the first occasion on which he had undertaken such an onerous task. However, as soon as the bright maid who answered the door had seen him comfortably seated in the neat little sitting-room, and had promised to go in search of Mr. Baker, he felt his wonted air of quiet confidence returning to him, and planned out in his mind the way in which he proposed to tackle this important witness.

Soon Mr. Baker came in. He was a man of medium height, his hair was dark, his eyes, if a trifle too close-set, were of a pleasant brown colour, and in their depths a sense of humour sparkled and twinkled.

“Well, Sergeant,” he said jovially as he approached, his hand held out in candid friendship; “what’s the trouble, eh? What am I to be run in for this time?”

“Nothing, I hope, sir,” replied Cunningham, smiling in his turn. “It is only that I want some information from you. We understand that you know something about a case which we have under investigation.” Cunningham did not often play the “heavy detective,” but he felt that the present was one of the few occasions when such a rôle would be suitable.

“Right ho!” responded Baker. “Fire away! Can’t think what crook I can number among my acquaintances, but I dare say that you know more about the criminal classes than I do.”