“Well, well, I’m glad to meet you, Detective Carter, and to hear that you think of getting after these highwaymen. I know you by reputation, sir, and I have no doubt that you will accomplish more than is being done by Weston’s pack of mongrels. Forsooth, if you do not, you will accomplish very little.” The last was said with a covert sneer that fell unpleasantly on Nick’s ears. He decided, however, that Badger was probably nettled by the failure of the Boston detectives to recover the property of which his wife had been robbed, and Nick thought no more of the matter at that time. As he followed the man into the attractively furnished library, from the windows of which could be seen the stable and driveway, Nick agreeably rejoined: “I am told that not much progress is being made against these road robbers?” “None at all, Mr. Carter, that I can discover,” replied Badger, with a scornful shrug of his shoulders. “Here is my wife, sir. Claudia, this is Detective Carter, of New York, sent out here by Chief Weston to inquire about the robbery. My wife, Mr. Carter.” In the light of what Chief Weston had told him about her, Nick surveyed the woman with more than cursory interest. Though now but thirty, she still retained in face and figure most of the beauty and freshness of youth. She was dark, like her husband, and rather above medium height, with a figure at once noticeable for its grace and suppleness. She had clean-cut features, a firm mouth and chin, with a square jaw that plainly indicated more than ordinary womanly strength. She met Nick with a lively flash of her dark eyes, and said agreeably, as they shook hands: “I am pleased to see you, Detective Carter. I do hope you’ll excuse my husband’s appearance, however, for he looks dreadfully with those red flannels around his neck. A sore throat has confined him to the house several days, and he insists that nothing but red flannel bandages will cure——” “Oh, never mind my looks, Claudia,” interrupted Badger petulantly. “Mr. Carter can put up with my looks, I’m sure, and probably he has more important business than that of discussing the curative virtues of red flannel bandages.” “No apology is necessary, Mrs. Badger, I assure you,” smiled Nick, as he accepted a chair. “I did have a little business with you when I started for here this morning, but I do not now regard it as important.” “How is that?” inquired Badger, with a furtive gleam of distrust in his watchful eyes. “It has lost the element of importance,” laughed Nick. “I did intend to question you closely as to the personal appearance of the rascals by whom you were robbed, Mrs. Badger, but since I have now seen one of them myself, I need make no inquiries. I have no doubt that the rascal I encountered was the same by whom you were robbed.” “You don’t mean that you, too, have been robbed?” exclaimed Claudia, with countenance reflecting profound amazement. “Exactly,” nodded Nick. “When?” “This morning.” “On your way here?”