In his opinion, he had done a good day’s work. Certainly, he had made some very curious discoveries, and if his theory were anywhere near correct, he had hopes of solving the mystery—and, incidentally, of capturing John Simpson, and recovering a large share of the stolen gold—before many hours had passed. And the best of it was that he had done everything single-handed. To be sure, his friend Carter had advised his going to New Pelham first of all, but, beyond that, the great detective had had nothing to do with the affair, thus far. “Carter will be sorry he didn’t get into the game at the start,” Cray told himself, with a satisfied grin. “If this thing goes through, as I hope it will, I’ll cop about all the credit there is. Too bad I called Carter in at all. If I had known what a cinch it was going to be, you can bet I would have handled it alone.” He and Nick were great friends, but Cray saw no reason to hide his own light under a bushel for that reason. On the other hand, he well knew that Nick would rejoice in his success, and decline to take any credit or pay that did not rightfully belong to him. He would have been less certain of the outcome, however, had he suspected that he was not dealing with Nick Carter at all, but with one of the most unscrupulous criminals in the country. Cray found the garage easily enough, and lost no time getting down to business. “Friend of mine, Mr. Simpson, rented a car here,” he said. “An electric. It looks pretty good to me. Is it still for hire?” “No, sir,” the owner of the garage answered. “Didn’t you know I sold it to Mr. Simpson nearly a week ago?” “The deuce you did!” ejaculated Cray. “That’s a new one on me. Haven’t seen Simpson lately.” “Well, he liked the machine so much that he took it, after having it out several times. I’ve got other cars here for sale, but that was the only electric. There isn’t very much demand for them, you know.” “It was an electric I wanted,” Cray told him, with apparent regret. “Like them quiet.” “That’s what Mr. Simpson said,” the garage owner vouchsafed. “They may be quiet enough, but I like something a little faster and bigger. I’ve got a dandy Wellington here, sir, as good as new, that I’ll sell you for——” “Nothing doing,” Cray interrupted. “Wife has set her heart on an electric, and you know what that means. Thanks just the same, though.” They exchanged meaning glances, and Cray left the garage. As he walked along the main street, he whistled softly, but very cheerfully. The garage man’s hint as to Simpson’s reason for purchasing an electric car had served to strengthen his suspicions. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that he was right, and the more eager he was to lay his amazing theory before Nick Carter.