arate facts constitute a plausible supposition. But I _do_ know
and _you_ know now, that the machine you found was probably the one
stolen from Harkville. Who stole it? We do not know, but it is pretty
plain that no one other than the original thieves had the car on that
South Fork road, wherever they may have been with it since first it
disappeared. Now that lands in the very vicinity of your car, at the
time of your loss, the fellows who stole one automobile. And, having
stolen one, no doubt they would just as lief take another and better
one. The man who was seen with your basket may have been only a tramp.
If your suitcases were left behind, the basket was thrown out, as well,
at the same place or near by."

"Any way you put it, though," suggested MacLester, his brow puckered in
thought, "we are left right in the middle of it all, again. Go one way,
and we might find who owned the Torpedo. Go the other way--and we stand
a better chance, I should think, of finding our own Six and the thieves.
Whether they stole both cars, or simply ours, isn't a question in the
case at all just yet."

"Yes," assented Mr. Cape, "but you must go back along the road, or
wherever you may have to go, for the things you need to aid your search.
You can't unsnarl a fish line, or anything else, without you have one
free end with which to make a start."

Phil became nervous and uneasy as so much time was being consumed in
discussion, interesting to him though the talk was. "Tell us just what
_you'd_ do, Mr. Cape," he said earnestly.

"Advice is dangerous in a case like this. You may do as I would do and
lose by it. Still, I'll venture a suggestion. You have gotten together,
bit by bit, a lot of valuable facts. Right here in this building is a
detective. He works for big people. Why not talk with him? If that
Torpedo is the stolen Harkville machine you will win the help of one of
the largest insurance companies in the job of capturing the thieves and
at the same time, it is quite certain, recovering your own car."

"That's the plan!" exclaimed Phil eagerly.

"The very thing!" said Dave.

In a moment Mr. Cape had the telephone in his hand. Within five minutes
the boys were in the office of Detective Robert Rack, or plain "Bob"
Rack, as his name so often appears in the newspapers.

Mr. Rack was a ready listener to the whole story in detail as the boys
told it. Quietly he referred to a card index a stenographer brought him.
"I don't thin