From now on they received frequent news of the car, but at the second village, the motor-cyclist had not been seen, nor at subsequent places where the machine had been identified, was there any reference to a motor-cyclist. It was past midnight when they came up with the machine they were chasing. It stood outside a garage on the Shoreham Road, and Elk was the first to reach it. It was empty and unattended. Inside the garage, the owner of that establishment was busy making room for the last comer. “Yes, sir, a quarter of an hour ago,” he said, when Elk had produced his authority. “The chauffeur said he was going to find lodgings in the town.” With the aid of a powerful electric lamp they made an examination of the car’s interior. There was no doubt whatever that Ella had been an inmate. A little ivory pin which John Bennett had given her on her birthday, was found, broken, in a corner of the floor. “It is not worth while looking for the chauffeur,” said Elk. “Our only chance is that he’ll come back to the garage.” The local police were called into consultation. “Shoreham is a very big place,” said the police chief. “If you had luck, you might find your man immediately. If he’s with a gang of crooks, it is more likely that you’ll not find him at all, or that he’ll never come back for the machine.” One matter puzzled Elk more than any other. It was the disappearance of the motor-cyclist. If the story was true, that he had been riding a hundred yards behind and that he had fallen out between two villages, they must have passed him. There were a few cottages on the road, into which he might have turned, but Elk dismissed this possibility. “We had better go back,” he said. “It is fairly certain that Miss Bennett has been taken out somewhere on the road. The motor-cyclist is now the best clue, because she evidently went with him. This cyclist was either the Frog, or one of his men.” “They disappeared somewhere between Shoreham and Morby,” said Dick. “You know the country about here, Mr. Bennett. Is there any place where they’d be likely to go near Morby?” “I know the country,” agreed Bennett, “and I’ve been trying to think. There is nothing but a very few houses outside of Morby. Of course, there is Morby Fields, but I can’t imagine Ella being taken there.” “What are Morby Fields?” asked Dick, as the car went slowly back the way it had come. “Morby Fields is a disused quarry. The company went into liquidation some years ago,” replied Bennett. They passed through Morby at snail pace, stopping at the local policeman’s house for any further news which might have been gleaned in their absence. There was, however, nothing fresh. “You are perfectly certain that you did not see the motor-cyclist?”