“I fear so, Patsy.” “Badger wouldn’t have been on such a rush with that auto unless he had some scheme in view.” “That’s right,” assented Chick. “Madame Victoria may have telephoned to him what Nick was about doing, and possibly planned with Badger to get him into their hands.” “That appears about the size of it. If we get no trace of him here,” growled Patsy, “we’ll go out there again to-night and investigate.” “That’s what we’ll do.” “Do you know just where the fortune-teller’s rooms are located?” “Yonder,” nodded Chick, as they hastened up Tremont Street. “In that block on the next corner.” “What are you going to ask her, in case she is there?” “Oh, I can give her some kind of a plausible story to explain my inquiries,” replied Chick confidently. “She’s not clairvoyant enough to see through me, I’ll go my pile on that.” “Mine goes the same way,” vouchsafed Patsy, with a grin. “I’ll assuredly not let her know that I’m on the case with Nick,” added Chick. “If these rascals think he is working it alone, we may derive some advantage by keeping them in the dark.” “Surely.” “Nick also may not wish us to expose that we, too, are investigating the case——Stop a bit! Wait here!” Chick had suddenly caught Patsy by the arm and drawn him to the shelter of a doorway, less than twenty yards from that leading into the building occupied by Vic Clayton. The occasion for this move was obvious. Just turning the corner of Boylston Street, and approaching the building mentioned, was a huge touring-car of the latest type, occupied by two women only. “By thunder!” muttered Patsy excitedly. “That’s Badger’s wife running that car.” “I see it is,” said Chick more coolly. “With the fortune-teller?” “No doubt of it. She answers Nick’s description of her.” “Gee whiz!” “Well?” “That’s not the car that Badger and his wife used this afternoon,” cried Patsy. “So I see,” said Chick, still watching the couple. “There is something back of all this.” “You bet there is!” “Hold your horses, however, till I see what the two women are about to do.” With skillful hands Claudia Badger had turned the huge car in Tremont Street, then brought it to a stop at the curb opposite the doorway giving ingress to Vic Clayton’s rooms. Then both women deliberately alighted and entered the building, leaving the automobile unattended. Chick Carter’s eyes took on a sudden bright gleam. They had lighted upon a large willow hamper, or covered basket, attached to the rear of the car for the purpose of stowing away articles to be carried on a long tour. The hamper was nearly as large as a small trunk, and the top was secured only with two brass clasps. “By Jove, Patsy, here’s the chance of a lifetime!” Chick hurriedly exclaimed. “What do you mean?” came the eager inquiry. “Do you see that hamper?” “Sure!” “Do you think you can get into it?”