The president flashed a quick glance into the detective’s face. “What leads you to believe that they got any more than that amount?” he asked. “Several things. You would not have wired me to take this case on my own terms for a mere bagatelle of five thousand.” “Possibly not.” “And yeggmen with the experience of those who made this haul are not running the risk for so small a figure. They timed their operations so as to catch the vault with plenty of the ready inside.” “A simple case of deduction, by George!” exclaimed Hepner. “The reporter for the papers here, however, believed the cashier’s statement as to the amount of our losses.” “A reporter is not a detective, although occasionally a reporter will do good work. Generally, though, they do more harm than good. How much are you out, Mr. Hepner?” “About seventy-five thousand. Twenty thousand was turned in here on a demand certificate of deposit, at almost closing time, Monday.” Nick brought his eyes suddenly in line with the president’s. “Did you see the man?” “Yes; I was at the cashier’s desk at the time.” “Please describe him.” “Short, thickset and prosperous looking, as a man would naturally be who had that amount of money.” “What name did he give?” “Leonard Martin.” “How did he impress you, Mr. Hepner?” “He impressed me as being a Westerner.” “Good!” exclaimed Nick. “I am especially interested in Westerners, one in particular, whom I’d give a good deal to lay my hands upon. But tell me more about this fellow?” “Well, he had an easy, independent way with him, and when he talked he used a vernacular only to be found beyond the Missouri.” “He was a stranger in town, you think?” “I don’t think anything about it--I know. He is one of a party of four who are touring New England in an auto car.” “Still in town?” “Yes, and liable to be here for a few days, I guess.” “Why do you guess that?” “Good heavens!” exclaimed the president, suddenly. “It can’t be possible you suspect this man of--of----” The president paused. “It is immaterial to you whom I suspect, Mr. Hepner,” said Nick, coolly, “so long as I run down the thieves.” “Of course, of course! But you’re far afield, Mr. Nicholas, if that is the point you are driving at.” “Which is your opinion,” commented Nick. “What makes you think that Mr. Leonard Martin and his party are liable to be in Latimer for a few days?” “Because their chauffeur is sick and the Red Spider cannot proceed without a man to run it.” “The auto is named the Red Spider?” “Yes.” “Where is Mr. Martin staying?” “At the Central House.” “He feared to have so much money with him, and left it here for safe-keeping, I suppose?” “That’s it. A very breezy, genial gentleman he is, too, Mr. Nicholas. I assure you of that.” “Breezy enough, I dare say,” returned Nick, carelessly. “You gave a peculiar name to these robbers, a moment ago,” said the president. “What was it you called them?” “Yeggmen.” “And what is a yeggman?”