"What do you mean?"
"That deep rut."
"What do you make of it?"
Goulard leaped down to the road, Fallon following.
"A motor cycle has been here," said the chauffeur. "It was here only a few minutes ago, too, or this soggy earth would not have retained the tracks so plainly. Here are the fellow’s footprints, too, left when he dragged the wheel out of the road."
Goulard’s hard face took on a terrible frown. He uttered an oath, crouching to examine the imprints; then added harshly:
"Can we have been seen? Can we have been seen, Fallon?"
"Followed, perhaps," suggested Fallon tersely.
"Followed—impossible!" Goulard snarled between his teeth. "Who could have followed us? Who could have had any reason for doing so?"
"Nick Carter himself, possibly, or——”