He came to the spot which he recognized as that where he had thrown off the trunk. He saw the trampled and broken bushes and made for the road.
He had not gone far when he saw, far down, Del Mar suddenly attacked and thrown down, apparently by his own chauffeur. Bailey ran forward, but it was too late. The car was gone.
As he came up to Del Mar lying outstretched in the road, Del Mar was just recovering consciousness.
"What was the matter?" he asked. "Was he a traitor?"
He caught sight of the real chauffeur on the ground, stripped.
Del Mar was furious. "No," he swore, "it was that confounded gray friar again, I think. And he has the trunk, too!"
. . . . . . .
Speeding up the road the former masquerader and motor-cyclist stopped at last.
Eagerly he leaped out of Del Mar's car and dragged the trunk over the side regardless of the enamel.
It was the work of only a moment for him to break the lock with a pocket jimmy.