But Grant was not to be stayed by a trifle like that.

He hurried to the post office, hoping that Doris Martin might walk back with him.
The girl and her father were busy behind the counter when he entered.

He noticed that Doris was rather pale.

She was about to attend to him, but Mr.Martin intervened.

It struck Grant that the postmaster was purposely preventing his daughter from speaking to him.
For some inexplicable reason, he felt miserably tongue-tied, and was content to write a message to the Chief Commissioner of Police, London, asking that a skilled detective should be sent forthwith to Steynholme.
Mr.Martin read it gravely, stated the cost, and procured the requisite stamps.