Gramont rose and followed Hammond out to the garage, much to his amazement. The chauffeur halted beside the car and extended him a key, pointing to the luggage compartment.
"Here's the key—you open her!"
"What's the matter, man?"
"The stuff's gone!"
Gramont seized the key and opened the compartment. It proved empty indeed. He stared up into the face of Hammond who was watching in dogged silence.
"I knew you'd suspect me," broke out the chauffeur, but Gramont interrupted him curtly.
"Don't be a fool; nothing of the sort. Was the garage locked?"
"Yes, and the compartment, too! I came out to look over that cut tire, and thought I'd make sure the stuff was safe——"
"We're up against it, that's all." Gramont compressed his lips for a moment. Then he straightened up and clapped the other on the shoulder. "Buck up! I never thought of suspecting you, old fellow. Someone must have been watching us last night, eh?"
"The guy that trailed you yesterday, most like," agreed Hammond, dourly. "It ain't hard to break into this place, and any one could open that compartment with a hairpin."