It was on Thursday afternoon, it will be remembered, that the Chosen Trio set out from Lannington. Gaines' big and clumsy Roadster was loaded heavily. Freddy Perth at the wheel, Soapy at his side and Pickton buried among baggage strapped on and around the rumble seat, they headed toward Sagersgrove by the most direct route. Without mishap the little town of Waterloo was reached by dusk and there the night was spent. Pickton had so adroitly planned matters that Gaines registered at the village hotel for the entire party. He meant also that Soapy should have entirely to himself the pleasant task of settling the bill in the morning. But it was not to be. Very unselfishly that young gentleman ventured the supposition, when breakfast was over that, as he was furnishing the car for the trip, his companions would probably be prepared to pay the traveling expenses. "Oh, whack 'em up all around," suggested Perth. "Thought that was understood." Pickton said nothing. "Well, by George! I don't pay anybody's but my own!" growled Gaines. "If anybody thinks I'm soft, they better think again." This shot was so obviously intended for Pick that he flushed hot and scarlet. "Sure! Everybody's to pay his own way!" he said. Rather sheepishly he added, though: "We might have got breakfast cheaper along the road somewhere." And the foregoing dialogue but serves to illustrate the feeling that existed among the three companions. The unity, mutual trust and generous friendship which characterized all the relations of the Auto Boys with reference to one another were wholly missing in the Chosen Trio. The wonder is, indeed, that these three had remained together so long. True, Soapy wanted someone for company and someone to operate the car and to take care of it. Pickton had his own selfish end to serve by making use of Gaines in such ways as he could and Perth--Fred would have borne a great deal just for the sake of being around the Roadster. Also, Fred liked both the other two, in a way. It was not his disposition to find fault or to be over-critical at any time. It did not so much as occur to him, for instance, that the uncomfortable rumble seat, hemmed in with baggage, should be occupied by Soapy any part of the time as the car chugged on noisily but at no mean speed, toward Sagersgrove. It lacked still two hours of noon when Eli Gouger, self-constituted detective in Sagersgrove, beheld the heavy machine of the Chosen Trio coming down the main street of that peaceful town. He looked again and a sudden thought smote upon his brain. Then he acted.