“Yes.” “Well, well! What are these suburban roads coming to, Amos?” cried the woman, quite aghast. “It soon will not be safe to venture even into one’s front yard.” “I believe you,” said Badger, with a wheezy growl. “I do hope, Mr. Carter, that you’ll accomplish something. What do you intend doing toward rounding up these scoundrels?” Nick laughed and shook his head. “That is a difficult question for me to answer at present,” said he. “I must first discover some clue with which to start, some thread that is strong enough to follow, and which possibly may lead to the identification of the knaves and where they are located.” “Have you any such clue at present?” inquired Mrs. Badger, with a smile and glance well calculated to invite a frank rejoinder. “Not the slightest.” “That’s too bad.” “Stay,” added Nick, as if with an afterthought. “I believe I have something that may prove of advantage.” “Good enough!” exclaimed Badger, with eyes dilating curiously. “Of what does it consist, Mr. Carter?” Nick was then reaching into his breast pocket, and did not observe the speaker’s quickened interest, which had not been betrayed in his husky voice. “A photograph,” he replied, producing it. “The one taken by you, Mrs. Badger, at the time you were robbed.” “Oh, you are mistaken about that, Detective Carter,” Claudia quickly exclaimed. “Mistaken?” “I took no photograph, sir.” “Yet——” “It was taken by my sister, Miss Clayton,” interrupted Mrs. Badger. “Dear me, I couldn’t have done it for my life. I was so unnerved by the terrible episode and sight of the robber’s revolver that I had no power to see or do anything except what he commanded.” “Yet one of them was a woman,” smiled Nick. “I admit that, sir, but she had a revolver, and the mere sight of a weapon has always terrified me,” explained Claudia, with a shudder. “You were quite sure that she was a woman?” inquired Nick. “Sure.” “That it was not a man clad in woman’s apparel?” “Oh, absolutely. Her voice would have convinced me of her sex.” “A voice may be assumed.” “Yet I am positive that I am right.” “She was thickly veiled, I understand?” “True.” “Then you did not see her face?” “I did not.” “Her figure, as seen in the photograph, appears very tall—too tall for a woman,” persisted Nick. “Nevertheless, Detective Carter, I am positive that she was a woman, and not a man in female apparel,” declared Mrs. Badger, with emphasis. “Not only her garments and voice plainly prove it, but I also noticed her hands. They were too slender, white, and well formed for the hands of a man.” Nick now laughed lightly, remarking, in bantering tones, not then attributing any serious weight to his words: “That last, Mrs. Badger, is capital. Yet I must observe that, for one too terrified at the time to say or do anything but obey the commands of that brace of crooks, you did note some quite delicate details. Small hands, eh? Well, well, I think quite likely you are right.”