The Phantom Motor | Page 6

a four column head? Hunh?' inquired the champion. 'Special pictures posed by the champion? Hunh?'
'Yes,' Hatch replied.
'"Tracked on a Bicycle" sounds good to me. Hunh?'
Hatch nodded.
So arrangements were concluded and then and there The Thinking Machine gave definite and conclusive instructions to the champion. While these apparently bore broadly on the problem in hand they conveyed absolutely no inkling of his plan to the reporter. At the end the champion arose to go.
'You're a most extraordinary young man, Mr Thalhauer,' commented The Thinking Machine, not without admiration for the sturdy, powerful figure.
And as Hatch accompanied the champion out the door and down the steps Jimmie smiled with easy grace.
'Nutty old guy, ain't he? Hunh?'
Night! Utter blackness, relieved only by a white, ribbon-like road which winds away mistily under a starless sky. Shadowy hedges line either side and occasionally a tree thrusts itself upward out of the sombreness. The murmur of human voices in the shadows, then the crackling-chug of an engine and an automobile moves slowly, without lights, into the road. There is the sudden clatter of an engine at high speed and the car rushes away.
From the hedge comes the faint rustle of leaves as of wind stirring, then a figure moves impalpably. A moment and it becomes a separate entity; a quick movement and the creak of a leather bicycle saddle. Silently the single figure, bent low over the handlebars, moves after the car with ever increasing momentum.
Then a long, desperate race. For mile after mile, mile after mile the auto goes on. The silent cyclist has crept up almost to the rear axle and hangs there doggedly as a racer to his pace. On and on they rush together through the darkness, the chauffeur moving with a perfect knowledge of his road, the single rider behind clinging on grimly with set teeth. The powerful, piston-like legs move up and down to the beat of the engine.
At last, with dust-dry throat and stinging, aching eyes the cyclist feels the pace slacken and instantly he drops back out of sight. It is only by sound that he follows now. The car stops; the cyclist is lost in the shadows.
For two or three hours the auto stands deserted and silent. At last the voices are heard again, the car stirs, moves away and the cyclist drops in behind. Another race which leads off in another direction. Finally, from a knoll, the lights of a city are seen. Ten minutes elapse, the auto stops, the headlights flare up and more leisurely it proceeds on its way.
On the following evening The Thinking Machine and Hutchinson Hatch called upon Fielding Stanwood, President of the Fordyce National Bank. Mr Stanwood looked at them with interrogative eyes.
'We called to inform you, Mr Stanwood,' explained The Thinking Machine, 'that a box of securities, probably United States bonds, is missing from your bank.'
'What?' exclaimed Mr Stanwood, and his face paled. 'Robbery?'
'I only know the bonds were taken out of the vault tonight by Joseph
Marsh, your assistant cashier,' said the scientist, 'and that he, together with three other men, left the bank with the box and are now at- a place I can name.'
Mr Stanwood was staring at him in amazement.
'You know where they are?' he demanded.
'I said I did,' replied the scientist, shortly.
'Then we must inform the police at once, and-'
'I don't know that there has been an actual crime,' interrupted the scientist. 'I do know that every night for a week these bonds have been taken out through the connivance of your watchman and in each instance have been returned, intact, before morning. They will be returned tonight. Therefore I would advise, if you act, not to do so until the four men return with the bonds.'
It was a singular party which met in the private office of President Stanwood at the bank just after midnight. Marsh and three companions, formally under arrest, were present as were President Stanwood, The Thinking Machine and Hatch, besides detectives. Marsh had the bonds under his arms when he was taken. He talked freely when questioned.
'I will admit,' he said without hesitating, 'that I have acted beyond my rights in removing the bonds from the vault here, but there is no ground for prosecution. I am a responsible officer of this bank and have violated no trust. Nothing is missing, nothing is stolen. Every bond that went out of the bank is here.'
'But why - why did you take the bonds?' demanded Mr Stanwood.
Marsh shrugged his shoulders.
'It's what has been called a get-rich-quick scheme,' said The Thinking Machine. 'Mr Hatch and I made some investigations today. Mr Marsh and these other three are interested in a business venture which is ethically dishonest but which is within the law. They have sought backing for the scheme amounting to about a million