“But—” “My dear inspector, Hatfield wrote a letter asking for Miss Varney's hand in marriage; she declined with scorn; that was two days before she received a message which was the cause of her disappearance. Grayling, whom she loved, was in New York; he sent her no message at that time. Sara Varney drove to the depot just in time to catch an express train for New York. Since Grayling sent her no message, who did? Without knowing anything whatever concerning Hatfield, let us suppose him to be a villain. He knew that Sara loved Grayling; he knew that Grayling was in New York; he had received a note which made him furious; he acted upon impulse, perhaps, and sent word to Sara that Grayling had met with an accident; he asked her to come at once, and she started without a word. He, or someone who represented him, met her in Jersey City, and she was seen no more.”
“Quite a romance, Nick.”
“Wait. I thought this all out while in the carriage; believed that the theory was good, if Hatfield's character upheld it.”
“And you find—”
“Nothing to make me think that he is incapable of such a crime, and I must confess, nothing to convince me that he would commit it. Since that time I have made Hatfield's acquaintance, and I have found out nothing. There are a good many smaller details, such as tracing the checks, etc., but as the case stands, I believe that Sara Varney came to New York, and that Hatfield knows what became of her. Now, we will return to this subject later, if you like, but I would, in the meantime, be glad to hear why you sent for me. Perhaps, between Chick and me, we can manage both cases.”
“This of mine is entirely different.”
“What is it?”
“A number of yachts have lately been robbed by river-pirates, and I want you to run them down and break up the gang. The finishings, the pictures, plate, and in short, everything transportable, have disappeared, and there is no doubt in my mind that it is all the work of the same gang.”