“I agree with you perfectly, sir, and you may count on me,” Doctor Lord declared sincerely. “Thank you. Now, tell me, please, what you make of this man’s injuries, and what you know of the circumstances?” The doctor’s reply was a rather lengthy one. “There must have been several blows, and they were very severe,” he concluded. “I should say that they were delivered by a man of unusual strength.” “That’s interesting,” Griswold said, with a change of expression. “You don’t believe, then, that a man of slight build, who had spent practically all of his life in an office, could have perpetrated the assault?” Doctor Lord shook his head emphatically. “That’s extremely unlikely,” he replied. “In fact, I venture to say that it’s quite impossible.” “Then, it’s hard to explain,” Griswold muttered. “Apparently Cray found some reason to hang about here last night, presumably to catch Simpson, or to recover the missing gold. If he was knocked out by an unusually powerful man, the only reasonable conclusion, it seems to me, is that the fellow in question must have been an accomplice of Simpson’s.” The doctor shrugged his shoulders. “That’s the way it looks to me offhand,” he answered. “I don’t pretend to be a detective, though.” “Neither do I. Such problems interest me, though. Can you tell me where the phone is?” The doctor informed him, and Griswold left the room in search of it. After a little more delay than usual, owing to its being a suburban call, the millionaire was connected with Nick Carter’s house in New York. He was informed, however, that the detective had left there shortly after seven o’clock the evening before, and had not yet returned. Furthermore, nothing had been heard from him. This information was a great disappointment to Griswold, for he had hoped to get in touch with Nick at once. “Very likely he has gone to Hattontown,” he decided. “If both of them had been watching this place, Cray would hardly have got the worst of it to such an extent, and would certainly not have been left to be found by accident—unless there’s a whole gang involved. In that case, Carter himself must have met with foul play. But it doesn’t seem likely that Simpson could have enlisted any strong-arm assistance.” He reëntered the room where Doctor Lord was. “I think I’ll have a look around myself,” he announced. “Will you tell me just where this man was found?” Three minutes later, he approached the pile of lumber, having quietly left the house by the front door and walked around by way of the graveled drive. He was looking for signs of a struggle, but had found none. The arrangement of the lumber had been changed when the boards had been hastily thrown from on top of Cray’s form, and the sod had been badly trodden by the rescuers.