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Updated: May 18, 2025
This looked suspicious, but the man was able to prove that he had told the truth as to his whereabouts, and further inquiry elicited nothing against him. Quarles also declared emphatically that Mason was not the masked man he had seen in the cellar. I next managed to get an interview with the owner of the house, a Mr. Wibley.
I took rather elaborate precautions not to encounter Mr. Wibley; he might be curious about a stranger in the country, but he would have been astonished to know how much I saw of him. No, there was nothing suspicious about him, except that on two occasions a man met him on a lonely road, evidently with important business to transact. On the day after the second meeting Mr.
I may mention incidentally the value of having such a place of retreat; the spoil could be deposited there until it could safely be removed to a better hiding place. "This, of course, would inculpate the caretaker Mason. He has been carefully watched; he has done nothing to give himself away, the result of careful training, I fancy. Through this house we get another link the owner, Mr. Wibley.
Wibley departed and came to Hythe. No later than this morning he was playing golf there with this same man he met in Hampshire. The golf was poor, but they talked a lot." "Still, I do not see " "One moment, Wigan. The other man is staying in your hotel." "You think " "I think it was intended to rob this hotel, but I believe the idea has been abandoned," said Quarles.
He has been a sufferer in these robberies, losing a necklace he had just purchased for his daughter. Certainly a man to know under the circumstances. As you are aware, he lives in Hampshire, and I had a sudden desire to see that part of the country. I didn't call upon Mr. Wibley, although he was at home. "His daughter was away it was quite true he has a daughter.
Watching Wibley when he came down to Hythe, Quarles found he had a liking for motoring on the Dymchurch Road. He saw him pull up one morning to speak to a man on the roadside. He did the same thing on the following morning, but it was a different man, and Quarles recognized young Squires.
The prisoners were left in the hands of the police, and a motor took Quarles and myself back to Folkestone. He told me the whole story before we slept that night. The lonely house on Romney Marsh had been bought by Wibley some months ago in the name of Reynolds.
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