Guy Garrick | Page 3

he had lost a cow. That
set the garage keeper thinking. And then, while they were cleaning up
the garage later in the day, they found that cartridge where the car had
been washed down and swept out. We had already advertised a reward
for information about the stolen car, and, when he heard of the reward,
for there are plenty of people about looking for money in that way, he
telephoned in, thinking the story might interest us. It did, for I am
convinced that his description of the machine tallies closely with that of
Mr. Warrington's."
"How about the man who drove it?" cut in Garrick.

"That's the unfortunate part of it," replied McBirney, chagrined. "These
amateur detectives about the country rarely seem to have any foresight.
Of course they could describe how the fellow was dressed, even the
make of goggles he wore. But, when it came to telling one feature of
his face accurately, they took refuge behind the fact that he kept his cap
pulled down over his eyes, and talked like a 'city fellow.'"
"All of which is highly important," agreed Garrick. "I suppose they'd
consider a fingerprint, or the portrait parle the height of idiocy beside
that."
"Disgusting," ejaculated McBirney, who, whatever his own limitations
might be, had a wholesome respect for Garrick's new methods.
"Where did you leave the car?" asked Garrick of Warrington. "How did
you lose it?"
The young man seemed to hesitate.
"I suppose," he said at length, with a sort of resigned smile, "I'll have to
make a clean breast of it."
"You can hardly expect us to do much, otherwise," encouraged Garrick
dryly. "Besides, you can depend on us to keep anything you say
confidential."
"Why," he began, "the fact is that I had started out for a mild little sort
of celebration, apropos of nothing at all in particular, beginning with
dinner at the Mephistopheles Restaurant, with a friend of mine. You
know the place, perhaps-- just on the edge of the automobile district
and the white lights."
"Yes," encouraged Garrick, "near what ought to be named 'Crime
Square.' Whom were you with?"
"Well, Angus Forbes and I were going to dine together, and then later
we were to meet several fellows who used to belong to the same
upperclass club with us at Princeton. We were going to do a little

slumming. No ladies, you understand," he added hastily.
Garrick smiled.
"It may not have been pure sociology," pursued Warrington, good-
humouredly noticing the smile, "but it wasn't as bad as some of the
newspapers might make it out if they got hold of it, anyhow. I may as
well admit, I suppose, that Angus has been going the pace pretty lively
since we graduated. I don't object to a little flyer now and then, myself,
but I guess I'm not up to his class yet. But that doesn't make any
difference. The slumming party never came off."
"How?" prompted Garrick again.
"Angus and I had a very good dinner at the Mephistopheles--they have
a great cabaret there--and by and by the fellows began to drop in to join
us. When I went out to look for the car, which I was going to drive
myself, it was gone."
"Where did you leave it?" asked McBirney, as if bringing out the
evidence.
"In the parking space half a block below the restaurant. A chauffeur
standing near the curb told me that a man in a cap and goggles--"
"Another amateur detective," cut in McBirney parenthetically.
"--had come out of the restaurant, or seemed to do so, had spun the
engine, climbed in, and rode off--just like that!"
"What did you do then?" asked Garrick. "Did you fellows go
anywhere?"
"Oh, Forbes wanted to play the wheel, and went around to a place on
Forty-eighth Street. I was all upset about the loss of the car, got in
touch with the insurance company, who turned me over to McBirney
here, and the rest of the fellows went down to the Club."
"There was no trace of the car in the city?" asked Garrick, of the

detective.
"I was coming to that," replied McBirney. "There was at least a rumour.
You see, I happen to know several of the police on fixed posts up there,
and one of them has told me that he noticed a car, which might or
might not have been Mr. Warrington's, pull up, about the time his car
must have disappeared, at a place in Forty- seventh Street which is
reputed to be a sort of poolroom for women."
Garrick raised his eyebrows the fraction of an inch.
"At any rate," pursued McBirney, "someone must have been having a
wild time there, for they carried a girl out to the car. She seemed to be