The treasurer shook his head in a dazed sort of way. “Nobody else had any hand in what I did, Mr. Griswold,” he said. “As for falling asleep, I guess you wouldn’t have done that very quickly if you had been in my place. I did doze off after daylight, but that was all.” There could be no doubt that he was telling the truth. “Probably you were in a deep, exhausted sleep when they found Cray,” he said. “The yard seems to have been full of people then.” “I did hear a dog barking,” Simpson admitted finally. “It partially aroused me, but I dropped off again. Maybe that was the time.” “Then you haven’t the slightest idea of what happened after you were locked up here?” persisted Griswold. “Why, I guess I could explain that,” the thief replied slowly, as if he were just beginning to realize what it all meant. “It must have been Nick Carter who——” “Who did what?” “Who put the other fellow out of business.” CHAPTER XXXIII. SUSPICION FALLS ON NICK. “For the love of Heaven!” exclaimed Lane Griswold, in a shocked voice. “You are crazy, Simpson, or lying! Do you actually mean to charge Carter, who is one of the greatest detectives we have in this country, and a man who is absolutely above suspicion in every way, with having turned on his friend and associate, Cray, and then made off with the money?” Simpson’s air was one of injury. “I’m not crazy, and I’m not lying,” he answered. “I’m telling you, or am ready to tell you, just what I know, and all I know. You’ve got me where you want me. Is it likely that I’d do anything to get in deeper than I am?” “Then, tell me about it—everything.” “Well, it isn’t much, and I didn’t actually see anything. I heard things, though—more than I was intended to, I guess. They tied me up here, and then, while Carter was looking at the money in the suit cases which I had already got in the car, Cray dug over there to make sure that there wasn’t any of it still buried. When he got through, Carter called him to come out, saying that he had something to tell him that he didn’t want me to hear.” “Where was Carter then?” “He wasn’t in sight. He had stepped to the corner out there, just back of where the car was. You can see that he could not have been many feet from here, so it was easy enough for me to hear things.” “Well?” “Well, Cray went out, leaving the door open behind him. The next thing I knew, I heard a queer sort of dull thud, and pricked up my ears. It sounded as if somebody had been hit, perhaps with a fist, or, more likely, with something else.