oner, whom I found to be
an exceedingly courteous gentleman. He expressed himself indebted to me
for the assistance I had rendered the department. I did not see that my
assistance had been of much practical value, and I said so; but I added
that I was very keen on the Motor Pirate's capture, and I should be glad
to render any service in my power which would tend to such an end.

"Anything you can do to assist Inspector Forrest will be greatly
appreciated," he declared. "Of course, it is not our usual plan to make
use of outside assistance, but we are not so bound up in red tape as to
refuse such aid as that you offer."

We had ten minutes' further conversation, and then Forrest and I left
together. The detective was in high glee. He had obtained _carte
blanche_ to do as he liked. His chief had expressed every confidence in
him, while urging him to spare no effort to obtain the Pirate's arrest.

"The fact is," he said, "the papers have been rubbing it into us for
allowing such audacious crimes to be committed right under our noses,
and the chief is wild to get the chap. Half of the detective force are
already engaged on the job. I fancy I should get him myself singlehanded
sooner or later if he were a sane man; but, as it is, the cunning of a
madman upsets every calculation."

"You still hold to the theory that he is mad?" I asked.

"Cannot explain his treatment of me in any other way," he replied
promptly.

"Well, what's the next move?" I asked, when we had returned to our car.
"I suppose we may as well go for a prowl to-night, on the off-chance of
finding him."

"We might try a new district," answered Forrest, "You may have noticed
that he breaks fresh ground every time he reappears."

"Where shall it be then?"

Forrest answered my question with another. "Supposing yourself to be in
his place, and the desire to attract notoriety a stronger motive than
mere plunder. What should you do?"

There flashed into my memory what Winter's guest had said about the
Brighton Parcels Mail, and I said laughingly--

"I fancy I should hold up the Brighton Mail."

"As likely a feat as any for him to attempt," replied Forrest,
thoughtfully.

I glanced up at the clock in the tower of St. Stephens; the hands
pointed to a quarter before five.

"Well," I said, "we may as well run down to Brighton by daylight and get
acquainted with the road, since I have only driven over it once before.
We can dine at the Metropole comforta