moment my glance
fell on something at my feet which put the idea to flight. Lying on the
road was a large button. I picked it up. I saw at once that it had been
torn violently away from the garment to which it had been attached, for
a piece of the cloth had come away with it, I looked at it narrowly--the
cloth was of the same material as the overcoat Forrest had been wearing.

The button had been almost under the wheels of my car, so I backed the
Mercedes a few yards, and looked about for further traces. In the space
thus laid bare there lay a lamp smashed to pieces. I picked up the
frame, and saw that it was one of the lamps taken from the other motor.
Further search only revealed another button similarly attached to a
shred of cloth like the first one I had found. That was all.

The sergeant looked at me and I at him. One thought was in both our
minds, and we gave utterance to it simultaneously.

"The Motor Pirate has been back again."

"You must have scared him away the first time, and on his return to
complete the job he found the inspector here, and----"

The sergeant did not complete his sentence, but glanced apprehensively
up and down the road.

"If he has returned, I don't see what he can have done with Forrest," I
replied.

"Heaven knows!" the man replied, involuntarily lowering his voice. "I--I
begin to believe that this Motor Pirate is--is the Devil."

"Nonsense, man!" I said sharply.

To tell the truth, my own nerves, in spite of the whisky, were in none
too firm a condition; and I knew it would be fatal to allow myself to
become infected by the very obvious funk which had seized upon my
companion. I felt, however, I must be doing something unless I wanted to
succumb.

"Look here," I said, "you wait by the car a few minutes, while I go two
or three hundred yards further up the road, to see if I can find any
other traces."

"I--I would much rather you--you didn't leave me," stammered the
sergeant. "It's bad enough for there to be only the two of us."

"Come, pull yourself together," I replied roughly. "There's nothing to
be afraid of."

"I don't think I can stand being left here alone," repeated the
sergeant.

"Very well; you had better come along with me then," I replied.

He jumped into the car beside me with alacrity, and I started the motor,
though not until I had arranged my revolver handily at my side. We went
for a mile at our slowest pace in the direction of Stratford, and
finding