replied.

I could hardly believe my ears. "What in the world for?" I asked.

"What should it be for?" said Forrest, with a touch of sarcasm in the
tone of his voice.

"He cannot be the Motor Pirate. It is impossible. He could not have
deceived me so completely," I exclaimed.

"I would stake everything I hope for in the future, as well as
everything I possess at the present moment, that he is though," returned
the detective with conviction. "But we must not waste time. Take me to
the hotel."

Without stopping to argue the point, I jumped on my car, Forrest took
the seat beside me, and we proceeded to the Royal.

"Leave the car and come with me, I may want your assistance," he said,
as we pulled up at the entrance to the hotel.

He sprang out the moment I stopped and ran briskly up the steps. A
porter was in the hall, and to him Forrest turned.

"I want to see a Mr. Mannering, who is stopping here, at once, and I do
not wish to be announced," he said.

The man walked across to the office and made an inquiry of the clerk,
then returning, announced that Mannering had left an hour previously.

"Left?" said Forrest, and his jaw fell. He stepped across to the office
himself, only to learn that though Mannering had booked a room for the
night, he had after dinner called for his bill, paid it, and left on his
motor, without giving any reason for his alteration of plans.

Forrest stalked out of the hotel, his brow heavy with thought. I
followed him. He stepped on to the car, and, taking my seat, I asked him
tersely--

"Where to?"

"St. Albans," he replied with brevity equal to my own, and without
further question we were off.

"Don't mind taking a few risks," he said presently. "The sooner we can
get there the better I shall be pleased."

Then, leaning back in his seat, he asked me to tell him how I happened
to learn of Mannering's presence in Cromer, and what he had said to
convince me that he was in no way connected with the Pirate. So while we
were still running at a moderate pace, I gave him a brief history of my
adventures of the previous night. Before I had concluded, however, the
road ahead seemed clear, and, pulling my mask over my face, I jammed on
my highest speed and conversation became impossible.

Forrest pulled his cap down over his eyes and, turning his coat-collar
about his ears, settled himself apparently to slumber. Within half an
hour the lights of Norwich sparkled in front of us, and it be