Green-eye Gordon, Nick Carter’s double for the time being, did full justice to the excellent dinner that he found ready for him when he reported to the detective’s dining room. To have asked for special dishes would have been a risky thing to do, and even if he had had an active dislike for anything that was served to him, he had sufficient self-control to conceal that fact. To be sure, he would have preferred other things, and his craving for drink often nearly overmastered him, but he succeeded in fighting it down—at any rate, during the hours he spent under the eyes of Nick’s servants. It was a few minutes after seven when one of the detective’s cars drew up at the curb, and Danny Maloney, Nick’s chauffeur, honked an announcement of the fact. The supposed Nick Carter left the table, explored his pockets for the last time, to make sure that his loot—including the automatic—was all in his possession, and then went out to the machine. He was more afraid of Danny, than any of the rest, for the chauffeur’s eyes were very keen, and he had had more than a taste of detective work on the various occasions when he had jumped in and helped out in a crisis. Nevertheless, the impostor felt that he could not afford to do too many unusual things, and he had sent for Danny instead of calling a taxi. “I’ll be behind the fellow as soon as I get into the machine,” he mused. “He’ll only see me for a few minutes. Therefore, as I’ve already stood Jack Cray’s scrutiny, and am going to invite it again, I ought not to have any trouble with this fellow.” He did not, of course. Danny had no reason to doubt that his chief had returned unexpectedly, and therefore, it did not occur to him to give more than a passing glance. Gordon was dropped at the station in plenty of time to catch the seven-thirty for New Pelham, a small suburban place a few miles to the north, in Westchester County. Both the motor car and the train afforded opportunity for very agreeable day-dreams connected with the papers in the scoundrel’s pocket, and by the time he stepped from the train at the village he had persuaded himself that a big fortune was as good as within his grasp, and that there could be no possible hitch. It is not to be wondered at that his hopes ran high, for certainly his daring had carried everything before it, thus far. High tide is invariably followed by low, however, and although the ebb might not set in for some time in Green Eye’s case, it was sure to come sooner or later. For wrongdoing is its own worst enemy, and devours its own children. Jack Cray was waiting on the platform when Gordon alighted at New Pelham, and it was plain from the ex-police detective’s bearing that he had had news of unusual importance to communicate. “You have hit upon something, I see,” Green Eye remarked in Nick’s quiet tones.