The finding of the car puzzled me at first, I admit," he said. "Now,
assuming that Mick the Wolf has not sent us off on a wild-goose chase,
the locality of the steamer explains it. Voles drove all the way to the
East Side, quitted the car in the neighborhood of the pier, deposited
Miss Bartlett on board the vessel under some plausible pretext, and
actually risked the return journey into the only part of New York where
the missing auto might not be noticed at once. He's a bold rogue, and no
mistake."

But Carshaw answered not. The chief glanced at him sideways, and smiled.
There was a lowering fire in his companion's eyes that told its own
story. Thenceforward, the run was taken in silence. But Steingall had
decided on his next move. When they neared Smith's Pier Carshaw wished
to drive straight there.

"Nothing of the sort," was the sharp official command. "We have failed
once. Perhaps it was my fault. This time there shall be no mistakes.
Turn along the next street to the right. The precinct station is three
blocks down."

Somewhat surprised by Steingall's tone, the other obeyed. At the
station-house a policeman, called from the men's quarters, where he was
quietly reading and smoking, stated that he was on duty in the
neighborhood between eight o'clock the previous evening and four o'clock
that morning. He remembered seeing a car, similar to the one standing
outside, pass about 9.15 P.M. It contained two people, he believed, but
could not be sure, as the screens were raised owing to the rain. He did
not see the car again; some drunken sailors required attention during
the small hours.

The local police captain and several men in plain clothes were asked to
assemble quietly on Smith's Pier. A message was sent to the river
police, and a launch requisitioned to patrol near the _Wild Duck_.

Finally, Steingall, who was a born strategist, and whose long experience
of cross-examining counsel rendered him wary before he took irrevocable
steps in cases such as this, where a charge might fail on unforeseen
grounds, made inquiries from a local ship's chandler as to the _Wild
Duck_, her cargo, and her destination.

There was no secret about her. She was loading with stores for Costa
Rica. The consignees were a syndicate, and both Carshaw and Steingall
recognized its name as that of the venture in which Senator Meiklejohn
was interested.

"Do you happen to know if there is any one on board looking after the
interests of