It was early in the afternoon when the well-appointed limousine motor car belonging to Nick Carter--seldom used, although always ready--skimmed along Riverside Drive, going uptown. The driver was the detective’s trusted chauffeur, Danny Maloney, and there were four passengers: Nick Carter, his assistant, Chick, Miss Claudia Solado, and Captain, the big bloodhound. Nick had chosen the limousine, in preference to the powerful touring car he generally used in expeditions of this kind, because the closed vehicle shut off any prying eyes that possibly might be trained upon them. “I don’t like to put you to all this trouble, Mr. Carter,” declared the girl. “It may be that Prince Marcos will be at home now. There is no certainty that he has been taken away against his will. Strange coincidences occur sometimes. One of them may account for the simultaneous absence of my Cousin Marcos, the servants, and Aunt Laura.” “All that is possible,” conceded Nick, “but does not seem probable. At all events, we’ll go and see. By the way, when did you see Don Solado and Prince Miguel last?” “I dined with them at their hotel, the Constitutional, last night. It was at the request of my uncle. My mother was with me. I have not found out yet whether my uncle and Prince Miguel recognized me on the night of the ball or not. I am inclined to think they did. They seemed to be pumping me during dinner.” “They did not get much out of you, I’ll bet a dollar,” put in Chick. “I did not tell them anything, because I feel sure they are concerned in Marcos’ disappearance now, and that they wanted to find out whether I knew anything about it. I did not at that time, so I was able to appear quite innocent. My mother is very deaf and something of an invalid. She took no part in the conversation.” “Your mother was not at the ball at the Supremacy, was she?” asked the detective. “No. She is not strong enough to bear much excitement. Indeed, she did not know that I was there. But I had my own reasons for being present, when I found there was a conspiracy against Marcos. You can understand there is at least one person who would like to take the place as head of this country.” Nick Carter nodded, without speaking. He understood the situation very well. There was nothing to be gained by questioning Claudia further. They got to the gateway of Crownledge, and Chick opened the big iron gates, which were unlocked. The limousine slipped around the curving roadway and stopped before the front entrance of the house. The residence stood in a lonely part of the road, and as there was a thick growth of large trees inside, the visitors were well screened from the observation of any casual passers-by. Nick went up on the porch. One glance at the letter box told him no one had been at the house for twenty-four hours, at least. The box was stuffed with newspapers which had not been taken in after the mail carrier had been there.