“Of course, I didn’t know then which man had done it, but I suspected that Carter had, because he had called Cray out. The blow must have given Cray something to think about, for there was a pause before I heard him say ‘Mr. Carter!’—just like that. He said it as if his best friend had turned on him, and he didn’t know what to make of it. I guess Carter must have tried to hit him again right away, for they had a little tussle. It did not amount to much, because, as I figured it out, Cray must have got a pretty nasty blow that first time, and there wasn’t very much fight in him. He must have done something, however, for the other fellow snarled, ‘Curse you; take that, then!’ and rapped him again, as I could tell by the sound. Still Cray was not down and out. They clinched, apparently, and then Cray muttered something, or whispered it in a hoarse sort of whisper. I couldn’t hear all of it, but it was something about ‘green-eyed.’ That seemed to make Carter more furious than ever, so far as I could tell. He cursed Cray some more, and seemed to strike him again and again. That was the end of it. Carter locked me in then, and I think he dragged Cray around the garage before he drove off.” Lane Griswold had been listening with all his ears throughout this recital, his face the picture of amazement and incredulity. Incidentally, his keen eyes seemed to search Simpson’s very soul. The man was a thief, and might easily be a liar as well. What possible motive could he have for lying, however? The millionaire could think of only one, and that seemed far-fetched. It was conceivable, of course, that, despite all the probabilities, John Simpson might have had one or more confederates who had struck down Cray, and carried the loot off to some new place of concealment. In that case, the treasurer’s story might be made up out of whole cloth. But after a brief mental consideration of this, the millionaire rejected the theory. If Simpson had had any one to help him, surely he would not have remained tied up there in a locked garage to starve, or be caught by those who were searching for him. Even if he had actually been surprised and handcuffed by Cray before the arrival of his friends, the latter would not have left him there to such an uncertain fate. After giving the detective his quietus, they would have carried Simpson off with them, handcuffs and all, and found a means of releasing him later on. No, the man must be telling the truth. He had suffered great hardships, and he was face to face with the employer he had defrauded. Surely, he was not the sort of man to lie under such circumstances, especially after having confessed to hiding the money under the earthen floor of the garage. But if he had told the truth, and had not misinterpreted what he heard—which seemed unlikely—what could it possibly mean, except that the sight of so much gold had proved too much for the great detective, and that he had turned criminal.