"He was unconscious, but he came around all right." "That's good--but Crochard wouldn't hurt him. He got away with the jewels, of course?" "Of course," I assented, surprised that Godfrey should take it so coolly. "When you rushed out that way," I added, "I thought maybe you were going after him." "With him twenty minutes in the lead? I'm no such fool! He got away from me the other day with a start of about half a second." "I tried to get you," I explained, "as soon as Simmonds told me they were going to look at the cabinet. I 'phoned the office. The city editor said he had sent you out into Westchester." Godfrey laughed shortly. "It was a wild-goose chase," he said, "cooked up by our friend Crochard. But even then, I'd have got back, if we hadn't punctured a tire when we were five miles from anywhere. I knew what was up--but there I was. Oh, he's made fools of us all, Lester. I told you he would!" "Then you didn't get my message?" "Yes--they gave it to me when I 'phoned in that the Westchester business was a fake. I rushed for the station, though I knew I'd be too late." "But, Godfrey," I said, "I can't understand, even yet, how he did it. Grady and Simmonds left the boat with Pigot and were with him all evening, showing him the sights. How did Crochard get into it? What did he do with Pigot? Where _is_ Pigot?" "He's on the _Savoie._ I rushed a wireless down to her as soon as I left the station. They made a search and found Pigot bound and gagged under the berth in his stateroom." I could only gasp. "And to think I didn't suspect!" added Godfrey, bitterly. "We stood there and saw that yacht with the French flag walk away from us; we saw her put a man aboard the _Savoie_; we saw that man talking to Pigot...." "Yes," I said, breathlessly; "yes." "Well, that man was Crochard. He got Pigot into his stateroom--gave him a whiff of the same stuff he used on Simmonds, no doubt; put him out of the way under the berth; got into his clothes, made up his face, _put_ on a wig--and all that while we were kicking our heels outside waiting for him." "But it was a tremendous risk," I said. "There were so many people on board who knew Pigot--it would have to be a perfect disguise." "Crochard wouldn't stop for that. But it wasn't much of a risk. None of us had seen Pigot closely; all we had seen of him was the back of his head; and the passengers were all on deck watching the quarantine men. And yet, of course, the disguise was a perfect one. Crochard is an artist in that line, and he was, no doubt, thoroughly familiar with Pigot's appearance. He deceived the purser--but the purser wouldn't suspect anything!" "So it was really Crochard...."