"Whenyou left me," Forrest began, "I thought I would pass the time until your return in making a still more detailed inspection of the ground than we had already made. I found I had no lights. In order to get over the difficulty, I went to the car in which the dead man was seated and examined the lamps. They were in good working order, and I could see that their extinction had not been due to any mischance. Why they should have been put out and the machinery of the car left running puzzled me. I could only conclude that the Pirate, after shooting his victim, had approached the car to plunder him, but had been scared away by the sound of our approach. He must have turned out the lights and have just had time to draw the car across the road to make a trap for us, before making his own escape. This impression of mine was confirmed later. I took one of the lamps from its socket, lit it, and looked again at the dead body. I am almost certain he had not been disturbed since the fated bullet struck him. His coat was closely buttoned. His rug was wrapped tightlyround him. There were papers in his coat pocket, and I could feel through the coat that his watch and chain were still upon him. When thinking that the Pirate could not be far off, I regretted I had not accompanied you; but remembering you were well armed, I reckoned that if you did meet the gentleman, you were quite capable of giving a good account of yourself—and of him."
You who happen to have read my account of the state of my mind, as faithfully described in these pages, will be able to judge how far my friend's confidence in me was justified. For myself, I doubt not that had he met me, the Pirate would have been able to add a second victim to that night's list with little difficulty. This by the way.
"I did not make a very close examination," continued Forrest, "since there would be plenty of time for that when the doctor arrived. Besides, I wished him to see the body in the position we found it. So I turned my attention to the road again, going over the surface inch by inch in the most methodical manner. You never know, you see, whether some trifling object may not be dropped by the criminal which will provide a clue. I was so engaged when I became aware of a curious humming sound in the air. I stood upright and peered into the darkness. But my eyes had become dazzled by looking at the white road in the brilliant light of the acetylene lamp, and I might as well have expected to be able to see through a brick wall. The most sensiblecourse to have pursued would have been to extinguish the lamp; but, instead of doing so, I stood like a fool in the middle of the road and waited until the Pirate—it was he without the slightest doubt—swooped down upon me, and if I had not at the last moment leaped aside I should have been bowled over. As it was, I just escaped being knocked down. The car pulled up with a jerk, and there, within reach, was the person whose capture would have—well, you can guess what it would have meant to me, if I could have managed to get him single-handed. But for the moment I was so astounded at the audacity of the rascal I could do nothing. I was not long in making up my mind to have a shot at capturing him, however. I dropped the lamp to the ground, and clipping my hand into my pocket I grasped my revolver. I knew I had to deal with a desperate character, but I was scarcely prepared to find him as physically powerful as he proved to be. I stepped up close to the car and with my left hand made a grab at him. It was a fruitless attempt. I found my wrist held in a grip of steel. I raised my right with the revolver. I was just a moment late in pulling the trigger, for he knocked up my hand and the bullet went wide. Before I had another chance, he twisted the weapon out of my grasp with a wrench that numbed my arm to the shoulder. How he managed to see in the dark was a mystery to me. He must have eyes like a cat—that man."
Forrest paused to light another cigarette, and after a couple of puffs he resumed—
"But the most startling thing was to come. Holding me tightly he leaned over towards me and said, 'Not this time, Inspector Forrest. You may think you have the Motor Pirate, but I can assure you that you were never more mistaken in your life.' Astonishment is not the name for my feelings at hearing him address me by my name. I had caught a glimpse of him before I dropped the lamp, but he was so swathed in his leather coat and disguised by his mask, that I should never be able to identify him. But I seemed to recognize something familiar in the intonation of his voice, yet even that was so muffled that I cannot be certain I have ever heard it before. However, I did not allow my astonishment to prevent me taking action. I threw myself suddenly backwards, hoping the weight of my body would upset his balance and drag him from his car to the ground, where we should have been on more equal terms. The jerk moved him about as much as if he had been built into his car. 'No, you don't, Inspector,' he said, with an infernal chuckle; and, so saying, he leaned over and, catching me by the coat, lifted me off my feet and swung me up on to the car before him. I'm not a light weight, as you can guess—I turn the scale at something nearer twelve stone than eleven—but he handled me as if I were a baby. I struggled of course, but my right arm was powerless, and he could master me with ease."
"I suppose it was during the struggle that you lost the two buttons from your overcoat which you left behind you?" I asked.
"Most likely," he replied, "though I knew nothing of them. Really his strength seemed diabolic. There was something else about him which to my mind scarcely seemed natural. At all my struggles he continued to laugh, but there was no merriment in his laughter, it was merely an even guttural cachinnation, the laugh of a fiend at the aimless struggles of a lost soul. It seemed to give him immense pleasure to see me wriggling on the smooth curved metal plate which formed the front of his car. I grew tired at last and lay still, hoping for a chance to better my position, for I came to the conclusion that in a mere trial of strength he was immeasurably my superior.
"When he saw my resistance had ceased, he spoke again. 'I feel inclined to take you for a ride with me, Inspector,' he said. 'I can assure you that you will find the experience a thrilling one. It is given to few men to travel with the Motor Pirate. The pace alone should prove exhilarating, to say nothing of the companionship and—what awaits you at the termination of the entertainment.' He chuckled again as he concluded, and I felt a cold thrill in the region of my spine.
"I made no reply. What would have been the use? But I do wish my right arm had been of some use, for I think in my anger I might have stood some chance of turning the tables on him. I quietly tried to rub the feeling back into it, but he did not afford me a chance of doing so for long. He produced a length of rope from somewhere or other, and, before I gatheredwhat he was doing, he had twisted it round me and bound my arms tightly to my sides. I was absolutely powerless, and I gnashed my teeth with rage at the helpless state in which I found myself. There was I, a detective inspector with a reputation at the Yard second to none, trussed like a fowl, and lying on the slippery surface of the Pirate car I had come out to capture."
"Not exactly a pleasant position," I remarked, as Forrest paused to moisten his throat with the whisky-and-soda at his elbow.
"No; but the worst was yet to come. He had no sooner secured my arms than he drew another piece of cord through the band, and fastened it somewhere or other. 'Now, if ever you pray, Inspector,' he remarked, with some more of his beastly merriment, 'pray that this rope doesn't break; for if it should happen to do so at the pace we shall be travelling, you will go to hell even sooner than I intend you to do.'
"With that he set his car in motion, and, judging by the way the wind stung me, the pace was something terrific. At first I attempted to pay some attention to the direction we took. But I soon gave up the idea. My position on the car was not one from which I could observe anything with any degree of comfort. With my arms bound, I sprawled out upon the smooth, curved bonnet of the confounded car, only held on by a cord which I expected to break and send me flying into the next world every time we touched a stone, or crossed a rut. My heart was in my mouth for the next hour or so,but afterwards I think I grew careless or callous. He had pulled the cord round my arms pretty tightly; that numbed me all over, and the exposure to the air did the rest. I fell into a dreamy condition. I only know that never for a moment were we still. There was always the drone of the wheels in my ears, and whenever I made a struggle and opened my eyes, all I could see was the blacker streak in the blackness caused by the hedges flying past. Heaven only knows how far and where we went. It seemed an eternity until it ended. But by then I was very near unconsciousness. I have a sort of impression the car did stop. I fancy that I saw the Pirate's mask bent closely over me while he examined me, that I heard him say, 'I don't think, Mr. Inspector, your attentions will trouble me much more.' I do remember distinctly being lifted in his powerful hands. I felt him swing me once, twice, thrice; then I felt myself flying in the air, and the next moment my senses came back to me with a rush, for I plumped into several feet of water."
"Well?" I ejaculated, as Forrest paused to light another cigarette. I was so interested that I grudged him a moment's delay before completing the story.
"The curious thing to my mind is that he did not knock me on the head at first," said Forrest. "I can only explain it by the conclusion that our friend the Motor Pirate is a madman. But, if so, I undoubtedly owe my life to the means he took to finish it. The sudden immersion brought me to myself much morerapidly than any other process could have done. In detaching me from the car he must have loosened the knot of the rope binding my arms; possibly the water made it slip further before it became saturated. I felt the rope give, and got one arm free by the time I came to the surface. I floundered into shallow water, and paused. By this time there was just a glimmer of light on the eastern horizon from the dawn, and I could see the bank was only a yard or two distant. Somehow or another I managed to scramble out, bringing half the bed of the river, or pond, whichever it was I had been pitched into, with me. When I was on firm ground I collapsed. I did not remain long on the ground, though. I knew very well that if I wanted to escape a severe illness, the only thing to do was to keep moving until my circulation was restored. So I got going. It was hard work at first. My limbs were so cramped and stiff that I was compelled to stop and groan after crawling every six paces. But the stiffness wore off gradually. I went ahead until I struck a village, and found out in what part of the country I was."
"Why didn't you go to the police-station?" I asked.
"Wasn't going to make myself a laughing-stock for a lot of country constables," he answered. "No; if I had got my man, I should not have minded what sort of figure I cut, but to turn up such a scarecrow after failing to get my man—not much. I had learned fromthe post-office window where I was. I had been dropped near Shefford, a village a few miles the other side of Hitchin on the North Road, and I thought if I walked back here I should avoid all likelihood of getting a chill. So I started. I found I had a shilling in my pocket. I had more money about me than that when I started out, but whether our friend helped himself to the balance, or whether it fell from my pockets during the ride, I haven't the slightest idea. But the shilling was sufficient to provide for my requirements. The first public-house I found open I went in, and had six-penny-worth of hot rum. My word! There's nothing like hot rum for putting new life into one. After I had drunk it I reckoned I should get here about noon; but I had not taken the somniferous effects of that sixpenny-worth of rum into the calculation. Before I had covered half a dozen miles, I found myself so sleepy that I could not keep my eyes open. I dropped off once or twice as I walked, so at last I made for a convenient haystack, rolled myself up in the loose litter at the base, and let myself go.
"That's how it happened I was so late in my arrival," he remarked; "and now, Motor Pirate or no Motor Pirate, I am going to finish that snooze."
He gave a prodigious yawn, and held out his hand. "Good night!" I said. "The story of my adventures will very well keep until to-morrow."
Onjoining Forrest at breakfast the following morning, I found he had mapped out a programme for the day which promised to keep us pretty busily occupied.
"First," he said, "I must get into St. Albans, and see whether there is any fresh information to hand. If possible, I should like to run over to Shefford, for I want to look at the place where I had my ducking, and recover the piece of cord with which that almighty scoundrel secured me. Then there's the inquest at Towcester at twelve, and sometime to-day I must put in an appearance at head-quarters to hand in my report. Perhaps I had better train from Towcester for that. It will be making too great demands on your time."
"Nonsense!" I replied; "I can run you up to town very nearly as quickly as you could manage the journey by rail."
"I hope you won't have to return alone," he remarked. "I am hoping to be able to inflict myself upon you for a few more days; but it is on the cards I may be taken off the job since I have met with so little success."
"I hope not," I answered.
"I should be sorry, too," he said. "I am more convinced than ever that our friend is living within a twenty-mile radius of this house."
"What grounds have you for thinking so?" I asked.
"The very slightest at present," he declared frankly; "and until I have seen the police reports from other parts of the country, I will not commit myself definitely to the opinion."
I could not get anything more out of him then, but after he had made a note of all the information to be obtained at St. Albans—we were on the road by nine-thirty—he became more communicative. The information he obtained did not amount to much. On the previous evening, the Motor Pirate had not made his appearance anywhere; while on the evening before, the only outrage of which he had been guilty was the murder which we had discovered. On that night, however, his car had been reported as having been seen on various roads in the midlands, one appearance having been recorded as far north as Peterborough.
"That confirms my opinion," Forrest declared. "The Peterborough report gives the time of his appearance as about 2.50. The sun rises at five, and it is beginning to be light an hour earlier. It must have been about four when he dropped me into the water at Shefford. Hitherto he has not been seen by daylight at all. Clearly he must have delayed getting rid of me until he thought it was dangerous to carry me about anylonger. He may even have been close to his own home, though he would probably select a spot twenty or thirty miles away at least."
"It seems likely," I agreed.
"Certain of it," said Forrest. "Now we will get along to Shefford."
We had a very pleasant run, and a mile from the village, Forrest stopped me where a deep pool fringed with rushes skirted the road.
"This is the spot," he cried.
He left me in the car and scrambled through the hedge into an adjoining field. He came running back with a dilapidated overcoat sodden with water in one hand, and a piece of rope in the other.
"Thought I could not be mistaken," he cried.
When he was again in the car he examined the rope carefully.
"Just an ordinary piece of half-inch cord," he remarked. "It's not of much value as a clue, but as a piece of evidence—I have known a man's life hang upon a slighter thread before now." He chuckled grimly at his own pleasantry.
"Where next?" I inquired.
"Towcester," he replied; and I wheeled the car round, and we were soon making the dust fly again.
We were not detained very long at the inquest. Forrest had a few words with the coroner, so that after formal evidence of identification had been given, and I had made my statement as to the finding of the body,the inquiry was adjourned. Thus plenty of time was left at our disposal, and we did not hurry on our way to town, even breaking our journey on the way for lunch.
The weather remained delightfully fine. Clean roads, blue sky, soft winds, combined to make ideal weather for motoring. We reached town about four, and went straight to Scotland Yard. Forrest went in while I waited for him. Then he returned for me, and, taking me up in the lift, he piloted me into the presence of the commissioner, 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 obtainedcarte blancheto 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 rubbingit 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 comfortably, spend a couple of hours on the front after dinner, and have plenty of time to meet the mail on the road afterwards."
"A most excellent suggestion," agreed the inspector, and his eyes twinkled at the thought of the programme I had mapped out.
We started forthwith. Reaching Brighton before sunset, I refilled my tanks with petrol before putting the car up at the Metropole and reserving a table for dinner. We had a wash, walked to the Hove end of the esplanade, and came back to our dinner with appetites equal to anything. We sat over our coffee a long while, Forrest making the time fly by spinning yarns about his experiences. Then we smoked a cigar on the pier, and so whiled away the time until eleven. If we had started then we should possibly have reached town before the mail had started, but as we were both tired of dawdling about, I proposed that we should extend our tour.
Forrest was quite agreeable. "Really we are out on a fool's errand," he remarked. "We are just as likely to meet him on one road as another. Yet I have a presentiment that we shall hear something further about him to-night. If we do meet him, remember one thing. One of us must get in the first shot, and it must not miss."
"Don't wait for me to shoot, then," I replied.
We got our car, and after a glance at the map, I told my companion where I proposed to go: a run along the coast to Worthing, there to strike inland for Horsham, from Horsham to make for the Brighton road about Crawley, roughly about a forty-mile run in all, and I reckoned that if we kept to the legal speed limit we should just about meet the mail.
Forrest made no objection to my suggestion, so we started at our slowest pace. I had very little to do, and the ride was one of the most enjoyable I have ever experienced. The salt breath of the sea was in our faces, and the roar of it in our ears. I was quite sorry when on reaching Worthing it became necessary to leave the coast. Inland the roads were absolutely deserted. We did not meet a single person between Worthing and Horsham, and for the first time I realized how easily the Motor Pirate's movements could evade notice. At Horsham we looked in at the police-station, and Forrest made a formal inquiry as to whether anything had been heard of our quarry in the neighbourhood; but, as we expected, without result. We remained there a little time to stretch our legs and to drink a cup of tea, which the officer in charge prepared for us, and on leaving we proceeded at the same steady pace, arriving in Crawley something after four. There we found that the mail had passed through a quarter of an hour before our arrival, and I questioned whether it would be worth our while to remain any longer on the road.
"We may as well make a night of it," said Forrest,in reply to my remark on the subject, so I turned the car in the direction of Brighton again. We bowled along at about fifteen miles an hour, at which rate I reckoned on catching the mail within half an hour. But we were destined to overtake it in a considerably shorter time, for just after passing the third milestone after leaving the village, our path was blocked by the huge van standing in the middle of the road and all across it.
I pulled up at once. Apparently the vehicle was not much damaged, but the door was broken open, while the parcels with which it had been laden were scattered all over the roadway. One horse lay on the roadway perfectly still, the others had disappeared.
The moment we stopped Forrest leaped from the car; I followed his example. The first object which met our eyes was the form of a man. He lay perfectly still, and I thought he was dead, but my companion had sharper eyes. Taking a knife from his pocket, he hacked at cords which bound the man hand and foot.
"More work of the Motor Pirate," remarked Forrest grimly, as I came to his assistance.
The man was not dead, but he had been so roughly gagged that had we arrived ten minutes later he probably would have been beyond human help. In the condition he was, it took us ten minutes working vigorously to restore his respiration; and after that it took the whole of the contents of my pocket flask to restore him sufficiently to enable him to give us an account of the mishap which had befallen him.
Then we learned that the man was the driver of the mail, and that Forrest's surmise that we had happened once more upon the handiwork of the Motor Pirate was correct. He had, it appeared, been driving quietly along, when his attention had been arrested by the curious high-toned hum which presaged the Pirate's approach. He was wondering what the curious noise could be, when he suddenly realized that a long low car was beside him. He did not anticipate any harm either to himself or to his charge, for, though he fancied that the stranger was the noted criminal, he shared the impression, pretty common until then, that the Pirate confined his attentions to motorists. The stranger did not even call upon him to pull up. He ran beside the coach, then slightly increasing his speed, he drew level with the wheelers of the team. There was the sound of a pistol shot, the off wheeler fell dead in his tracks, bringing down the other horses in his fall, and swinging the vehicle right across the road. The driver only escaped being pitched from his seat by the strap which held him to it.
"Then," continued the man, "he ups with 'is pistol an' tells me to come dahn, an' dahn I toddles pretty quick. 'Sorry ter inconwenience yer, my good feller,' ee says. 'Don't menshing it,' I says, as perlite as you'd be with a pistol a pointing at yer 'ed. 'I want the keys er this 'ere waggin,' ee says. 'Sorry they don't trust 'em ter us drivers,' I answers. 'Don't matter worth a cent,' ee says. 'I've another w'y er openin' thet strong box. Put yer 'ands be'ind yer an' turn rahnd,'ee says. I done it, an' ee trusses me up like a bloomin' chicken, an' sticks my own angkincher dahn me froat. With thet ee walks along ter the door and blows the bloomin' locks orf with 'is pistol. That did it. Ee looks inside, an' the w'y ee cleared them parcels aht was a sight—well, yer can see fer yerself wort it's like. The other 'orses were thet mad they kicks theirselves free. Ee goes froo the parcels cool as a cowcumber until ee routs aht the registered parcels. Ee puts them in 'is car. 'Tar, tar!' ee says, wiving 'is 'and, an' orf ee goes jest abaht five minutes afore you gents comed along."
When Forrest realized how near we had been to coming to close quarters with our quarry, he went aside, and for the first time since I had made his acquaintance, I heard him swear. It was a successful effort. He returned to my side the next moment.
"The telegraph is our only chance," he said. "Drive like hell back to Crawley."
I did. There we set the wires throbbing, and begun to scour the countryside for any traces of the Pirate. We did not give up our quest until eleven o'clock in the morning. I think we inquired at every house and cottage within a ten-mile radius of the scene of the outrage, but without finding a single person who had seen or heard of the Motor Pirate.
Once more he had appeared and disappeared without leaving the faintest clue to his identity.
Afterthe sudden flurry which the reappearance of the Motor Pirate caused, and quite as much in the country at large as in my own particular circle, we settled down once again to a condition of comparative quietude. Of course there were plenty of facts to keep the public interest alive and to fill the papers. The adjourned inquest on the victim found near Towcester supplied columns of copy, while the robbery of the Brighton Mail afforded unlimited scope for the descriptive reporter as well as for the special crime investigator, who at this time made his permanent appearance on the staff of nearly every paper of any importance in the British Isles. My life at home was made a burden to me by these gentlemen. I bear them no malice for their persevering attempts to interview me, but they were an unmitigated nuisance, since I had no wish to air my experiences in the newspapers at this stage of affairs. It was with the utmost difficulty I escaped the attention of the gentlemen of the Fourth Estate, for they even waited on my doorstep for the chance of button-holingme when I went out in the morning; and pursued me so assiduously, that I dared not look a stranger in the face, lest my glance should be translated into a column of glowing prose.
I have said that the Pirate left no clue to his identity upon his latest appearance, and, indeed, at the time, such was the opinion both of Forrest and myself. But in the light of after events we learned that there was a clue, had we been keen-witted enough to have discovered it. In the course of our inquiries around Crawley, we certainly did not succeed in finding any one who had observed the mysterious car which every one had learned to associate with the Pirate, but we had been told casually at Caterham—we had not returned by the direct road between London and Brighton—that we were not the only motorists abroad on that night, since another man had passed through the town early the same morning. When we learned, however, that he had been driving a car of the conventional shape with a tonneau body, we paid no further attention to the information, concluding that he was a sportsman, anxious like ourselves for a brush with the Pirate. Our blindness was to cost us dear before we had done.
There was another supposition which I could not get out of my mind in connection with the latest feat, and a couple of days afterwards I mentioned it to Forrest as we waited, according to our invariable custom, at St. Albans for news of the Pirate's reappearance.
"Don't you think it particularly strange," I remarked,"that in holding up the Brighton Mail, our friend at once searched for the registered parcels, and directly he laid his hands upon them at once made off?"
"A perfectly natural thing for him to do," replied the detective. "He would guess that, if there were any valuables, they would almost certainly have been registered, and he could scarcely hope to go over the whole contents of the van."
"Admitted," I replied. "Still, does it not strike you as curious that he should have selected the night when a valuable parcel of diamonds was there?"
"Well?" asked Forrest, his attention thoroughly arrested.
"It almost seems as if he was possessed of the same information as we were," I ventured.
"According to your argument," he answered, "the pirate should be either yourself or myself, Colonel Maitland, Mr. Mannering, Mr. Winter, or his friend."
"There remains Mannering and the diamond merchant," I said thoughtfully, "and I know the latter has never driven a motor-car in his life. Besides, he is scarcely likely to have robbed himself in such an extraordinary fashion." We had seen from the papers that he had, in fact, been referring to his own firm when he had described to us the advantages of the parcel post as a means of transmitting valuables. "He may have other friends beside Winter to whom he has mentioned the matter."
"There's Mr. Mannering still to be accounted for,"remarked Forrest. "No harm can be done by inquiring if he was away from home that evening. What sort of establishment does he keep?"
"Merely a couple of maids," I answered.
"In that case there should be no trouble in ascertaining whether he was out or not," he replied. "I'll see about it in the morning."
He made the inquiry accordingly, but as he confessed to me afterwards, without expecting anything to come of it. His expectations seemed to be justified in the result. The maids declared that Mannering had gone to his sitting-room after dinner, and had been there with his slippers on when they retired for the night. They had locked up the house as usual, and the doors had been fast when they came down the next morning.
This investigation, perfunctory as it was, decided us against any idea of Mannering's complicity, and I fell back upon the theory that the diamond merchant must have communicated his methods to some one else. We sought him out in the city, and he assured us that he had never before referred to the subject. He did not object to supplying us with the names of his acquaintances who owned cars, and either Forrest or myself made inquiries concerning every one of them. All were to no purpose. When we had finished, we were no nearer discovering anything concerning the Pirate than we were when we had begun.
Then occurred an incident which should have opened our eyes, if anything possibly could have done so, to thepersonality of the Pirate. But again we were absolutely blind.
It was the second week of May, and since, in spite of continued fine weather, our unknown terror remained in the seclusion of his hiding-place, wherever it might be, I had persuaded Forrest to come with me for a run one afternoon as far as Cambridge, proposing to return after sunset.
The roads were beginning to be a little dusty, but altogether we had a very pleasant journey without any incident of note. We left the university town about nine, reckoning upon getting home comfortably before midnight. There was a bright slice of moon shining, and we did the dozen miles before reaching Royston at a decent pace. We went slowly over the hilly road out of Royston and had passed over the worst of it, and I had just put on a higher speed, when I fancied I heard the distant hum which once heard could never be mistaken for anything else. Forrest heard it at the same time as myself.
"Pull up at the side of the road," he cried. "The car must not be damaged."
I obeyed, running the bonnet into the hedge and leaving the back of the car extended over the footpath. Meanwhile, Forrest had drawn his revolver from his pocket, and the moment I brought the car to a standstill I followed his example.
"Don't stand on ceremony," advised my companion; "shoot on sight!"
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when our enemy made his appearance, coming from the direction of Buntingford. Whether he had any intention of stopping and robbing us, I have no means of telling, but I think not, for he was travelling at his most rapid pace, and gave no signs of slackening as he approached. Once more I was astonished at the wonderful steadiness of his machine. He passed us in a flash, the car running as evenly as if it were upon rails. In fact I paid so much attention to this, that I was too late to fire with any prospect of hitting him. Forrest was more alert. As the Pirate swooped by, the detective's Colt spoke twice. So far as we could see, the shots took no effect, for he did not move an inch.
"No luck," muttered my companion, as the hum of the Pirate's car died away in the distance.
I held up a warning finger. "Hush!" I said.
My ears had told me truly—our enemy was once more approaching us. I leaned over the back of the car, this time determined that I would at least make an endeavour to stop his progress. The road was without a bend for a stretch of at least two hundred yards, and the moment he came into the straight he was clearly visible to us in the light of the moon. I did not wait. The moment I saw him distinctly, I lifted my revolver and pulled the trigger as rapidly as I was able. Before I had emptied three chambers he was level. I was just in the act of firing a third time, when a flash of fire spurted from the running car and my pistol dropped from my hand.Something had struck me violently on the arm. I felt no pain for the moment, only curiously numbed and cold. I wondered why my companion should continue to fire at the rapidly disappearing form of the Pirate, who appeared to me to be swerving from side to side of the road in the most ridiculous fashion. In another moment he was out of sight. I felt extremely sick, and, with something between a groan and a sigh, I sank back into my seat.
"I fancy one of us must have got him," said Forrest, in an excited tone. "Let us get on."
"I hope you are right," I answered. "For he has certainly managed to wing me."
The shock had passed off, and, with the return of sensation, my arm felt as if a red-hot iron had been run through it, while there was a similar sort of feeling about my chest.
"Really," said Forrest, as he looked closely into my face. He must have seen that I was not joking, for he jumped out of the car and came back with one of the lamps in his hand. "Where is it?" he asked, with some anxiety.
"Merely the arm, I fancy," I replied.
He took a knife from his pocket, and, without a moment's hesitation, ripped up the sleeve of the overcoat and under-coat which I was wearing. The shirtsleeve was already soaked with blood, and his face was curiously anxious as he cut away the linen and felt the bone from wrist to shoulder. Then his face cleared.
"Only through the muscle," he remarked. "A fortnight will see the wound completely healed."
Meanwhile he was tearing his handkerchief into strips, and, with this improvised bandage, he bound up the wound.
"Sure that is all?" he asked, when he had tightened it to his satisfaction.
"I've got much the same sort of feeling here," I replied, tapping my chest gingerly.
His face grew grave again, and before doing anything more he fished my flask out of my pocket, and insisted upon my taking a liberal draught of the contents. Not until then would he examine me.
"Your bleeding powers would do credit to a bullock," he commented, as he cut away my shirt: "but beyond loss of blood, I don't think there's much harm done."
His first impression was correct. A cursory examination was quite sufficient to convince him that I was not much hurt.
"Just a nasty furrow," he remarked. "Pretty painful, I suppose. The bullet glanced off, turned by that leather coat of yours, I presume. Lucky for you; as it is, you will be all right in the fortnight."
I felt relieved by his tone, and assured him, when he had patched me up temporarily with strips torn from my shirt-sleeves and my own handkerchief, that I felt very little of the injury.
"Now take my seat," he said, as he buttoned mycoat round me. "I think I have had enough experience of motoring to ensure my taking you in safety to the nearest surgeon. It's infernally bad luck, though," he continued. "I would swear one of us must have hit our friend, and if we were only in a position to follow him up, we should be pretty certain to effect a capture."
My mind had been considerably relieved to find that I was not seriously injured, and the dose of whisky I had taken had pulled me together.
"You've bound me up pretty tightly?" I asked.
"You are right enough until we find a doctor," he answered.
"In that case," I said, "if there's any chance of our catching our man to-night, I'm not going to chuck it away. Put the light back and let us get on."
My mind was made up on the subject. One reason was that physical pain always makes me feel mad, and I would have given a great deal to get even with the Pirate for that reason alone. Besides, call it vanity or what you will, I wasn't going to let any one say I had allowed a scratch to bowl me over. So the moment Forrest had replaced the light, I resumed my seat in the car, asserting that I was fully capable of driving.
The detective attempted to dissuade me from the attempt, but I was bent upon having my own way. He did not argue the question at any length, for as soon as he was in the car I backed into the middle of the road and jammed on our highest speed.
In three minutes we were at Buntingford, and there we nearly ran into a group of people who were gathered in the middle of the road. They were discussing, as it happened, the appearance of the Pirate, who had passed through the town twenty minutes previously. Here Forrest made another futile attempt to persuade me to see a surgeon immediately, but I would not listen to him. We swept onward. I could scarcely see, but I sent the Mercédès along recklessly, stopping for nothing until we reached Ware. I would never have driven in the manner I did in calmer moments. Forrest told me afterwards that his journey on the Pirate's car was nothing to it, for the car rocked so from side to side of the road that he was never certain whether I was not steering for the hedges; while at every bend his heart was in his mouth when he realized that the wheels were never on the ground together.
On the outskirts of Ware we learned that the Pirate had been seen approaching the town, but that, instead of passing through the narrow streets, he had doubled back in the direction of Stevenage. He had kept his twenty minutes' start and I was for following him. Forrest was of another opinion.
"According to his usual custom, he is obviously avoiding the towns," he argued; "and if, as I still suspect, his hiding-place is in the vicinity of St. Albans, we shall stand some chance of cutting him off if we take the most direct route. He cannot be badly hurt, or we should have picked him up before this, and under any other circumstance we are not likely to overtake him."
I saw the force of his reasoning and we flew on. We heard nothing of him neither in Hertford nor in Hatfield.
"Our only chance is at St. Albans," remarked my companion, and once more I put my car to top speed.
We were just about half way between the two towns when we saw the lights of a motor ahead. I sounded the horn, or rather Forrest did, but the vehicle made no attempt to get out of the way. We caught up to the stranger hand over fist, and not until we were nearly touching did I slacken speed.
As I did so the occupant of the car shouted out, "That you, Sutgrove? Never more pleased to meet with a friend in my life."
It was Mannering.
"Seen anything of the Pirate?" shouted Forrest, by way of reply.
"Merely had the pleasure of exchanging shots with him ten minutes ago," was the astounding answer. "Unfortunately he appears to have got the better of the exchange, for he has managed to put a bullet in my shoulder."
"We have had a similar experience, and Mr. Sutgrove is the victim," answered Forrest. "So I am afraid I cannot offer much assistance."
"I think I can get to St. Albans all right," he replied. "It's only the left, and I managed to get a handkerchief round it."
"If you will let us pass," I said, "I will run on to St Albans and see that assistance is sent to you."
"Oh, I didn't notice I was taking all the road," he remarked, as he drew aside.
Once more we drove ahead at our speed limit, and five minutes later we stopped before the police office. There we found every one in blissful ignorance of the fact that the Pirate was abroad. Nor did any one else see him that night. Again he had mysteriously vanished under circumstances which convinced the detective more firmly than ever that his retreat was somewhere in the vicinity of my home.