At times the car ran smoothly and swiftly; at others it jolted heavily over a rougher road. It was not dark in the basketlike receptacle into which Patsy had fairly crammed himself, yet the wickerwork was so compact that he could not see out unless he raised the cover, and that he did not venture to do. Neither could he hear anything that was said by the two women on the front seat of the car, owing to the constant noise of the vehicle. He knew, however, that he was on the road to Badger’s place, and speeding to the assistance of Nick Carter, and that was good enough for Patsy up to that time. After half an hour’s run, as nearly as he could judge, the cramped and twisted young detective felt the car sweep in a swift curve out of the direct road it had been following, and speed along a much less smooth and even way. “We have entered Laurel Road,” he rightly conjectured. “In five more minutes we should arrive at Badger’s house. Providing that I am not discovered in this infernally tight box, I there may hear something to serve my purpose. If I can learn definitely that Nick is out here, and then discover just where he is located, the rest of the job should be fairly easy.” For his own peril, let it be what it might, the brave youngster had not even a passing thought. Presently the car turned again, and began to slow down, and a moment later, when the noise of the motor abated, Patsy could plainly hear Vic Clayton addressing her companion. “There is Amos on the side veranda, Claudia,” she cried, in satisfied tones. “So I see, Vic,” was the reply. “Things must still be all right out here, old girl, since he appears to be taking it easy, and is smoking a cigar.” “I will round that side of the house before running the car to the stable,” said Claudia. “You can drop me there, too.” “We’ll both stop there, and let Amos put the car under cover. Yes, I judge that things are all right out here, as you say.” “They’ll soon take a turn for the worse, I’ll wager my life on that,” thought Patsy, with grim anticipations. It was then nearly seven o’clock, and the dusk of the early evening had begun to fall. As the car approached the side veranda and came to a stop, Badger rose out of a chair in which he was seated, and strode to the steps leading down to the driveway. Though his dark features wore a look of evil complacency, he at once addressed his wife in rather uneasy tones. “Well, what’s the verdict?” he asked. “Nothing wrong, Amos,” she cried, as both women came down from the car. “Did you stop at your rooms, Vic?” “Certainly,” laughed the latter. “Don’t you notice that I have changed my coat?” “Ah, yes, I see.” “I did that only to indicate that we had some motive for visiting the rooms,” she glibly added. “We had a visitor, too, while we were there.” “Who was that?” “A chap named Henderson.” “Henderson?” “That’s what he said, Amos, and whom do you think he inquired after?”