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[59] <h2>CHAPTER XII. GREEN EYE DOES SOME THINKING.</h2> That question of Cray’s ought to have proved very embarrassing to the impostor under the circumstances. As a matter of fact, Green-eye Gordon did not intend to do anything, if he could help it. It appealed to his lazy temperament, and his sense of humor, as well, to let Cray do as much of the actual work as possible, and then to step in at the end and claim the reward in his own peculiar way. Of course, it remained to be seen whether or not he could carry out that program without arousing the ex-police detective’s suspicion, and its success was also conditioned on Cray’s ability to handle the practical end of it in a way that promised to bring the desired results. Naturally, if Cray fell down, he would be obliged to take a hand in the game, and the eighty thousand dollars would amply reward him for his exertions. “Time enough to cross that bridge when I come to it, however,” he assured himself. “Meanwhile, I’ll do a little stalling, and see what comes of it. It’s safe to say that it won’t prove so difficult as it looks. Cray is more or less of a fool, and he thinks the sun rises and sets in his good and great friend, Carter; hence, Carter can do no wrong in his eyes—and I’m Carter.” [60] He assumed an engaging expression. “I’m afraid you’ll have to go it alone, Jack,” he confessed frankly, accompanying the words with a disarming smile. “For a day or two, that is. Of course, we’ll go over the thing together step by step, and I’ll give you my advice whenever you wish it. There’s this other case, however, which will keep me in New York for the present, although it won’t take up all of my time. You see how it is—it simply means that I won’t be able to do much running around in the Simpson case just now. As soon as I get this other thing out of the way, though——” “But hadn’t I better go to Hattontown, if that’s the state of affairs?” suggested Cray. “You can’t leave New York just now, you say, but you might be able to run out to New Pelham before long. For that matter, it’s quite likely that you could handle Mrs. Simpson better than I could. You have a great way of getting around the women.” Gordon looked around with mock alarm. “I’m glad there’s no one to overhear that, Jack,” he said, with a grin. “I might get the reputation as a lady-killer.” “Nonsense, Carter!” scoffed Cray. “Everybody knows you never even look at a woman that way. Seriously, though, hadn’t I better beat it for Hattontown?” That would have appealed to Green Eye if he had had any desire to get rid of his unsuspecting ally. That was not his purpose, however. He had a strong feeling that New Pelham was more promising[61] ground than Hattontown, and, since he was determined that Cray should bear the brunt of the investigation, it was to New Pelham that he meant to send him. “No, I think my way is better,” he insisted quietly. “You will see that later on, Jack, I’m sure. As for Hattontown, a few hours more or less will make no difference. You can start for New England to-night, if necessary.” Jack Cray scratched his closely cropped head in a manner that was characteristic of him when in thought. “All right,” he agreed presently. “Guess I can handle it all. You are usually right in the thick of it, though.” “I’ll be in the thick of it before we are through, Jack,” Gordon assured him, with a hidden gleam in his eyes. And, with that, Cray heavily descended the stairs, and left the house. Now that he was alone, Green Eye leaned back in the chair, allowed his face to relax into its own lines, and indulged in a prolonged fit of silent laughter. “Ernest, my boy, this is the greatest piece of luck you ever had, or ever dreamed of,” he murmured aloud. “What a yarn this will make when you retire and write your reminiscences!” Soon he sobered down, however, and began to consider the case point by point. “I’m willing to stake almost anything on that hunch of mine,” he decided. “I feel sure the clew we are[62] after will turn up at the fellow’s place out in the suburbs sooner or later, and, naturally, I’m not interested in the amount of work Cray is obliged to put into the business, or the wasted efforts it involves.” At the same time, though, he meant to reason the thing out, so far as he could. “This fellow Simpson,” he mused, “has been treasurer of other funds, and has been connected with the auditors’ department for years. That’s probably what influenced him to obtain the money in the bulky or more awkward form of gold. He knew that paper currency of high denomination could be traced by the numbers, if obtained from a bank or any institution which keeps track of such things. On the other hand, he seems to have overlooked the fact that there isn’t a great deal of gold in common use, and that a man who keeps on tendering gold in payment—after the theft of a large quantity of the stuff—is very likely to fall under suspicion. That may give us a clew. “Obviously, the electric machine may furnish another, if it can be traced. It isn’t probable that it belongs to Simpson, or, if it does, that it has been in his possession very long. His salary hardly puts him in the automobile class, and there’s nothing to show that he has been dishonest in the business. Besides, an electric costs considerably more than many makes of excellent cars.” The more he thought about Simpson’s use of such a machine, the more it struck him as significant. “Why an electric, anyway?” he asked himself. “All that I know anything about are ladylike little coupés[63]—about the last thing any man in his senses would be expected to choose for a quick get-away, especially when weighted down with eighty thousand dollars in gold. Why did he choose such a vehicle? What possible advantage could he see in it?” Green Eye turned this over for some time in his mind, stopping now and then to grin, as he realized how seriously he was entering into the problem. “I flatter myself I’m giving a pretty good imitation of Nick Carter,” he thought, with a complacent grin. “Griswold threw bouquets at me, and now I’m keeping up the pace when I don’t have to. “What’s the answer, though?” he went on mentally. “Hanged if I can see more than one possibility. It strikes me that the great advantage of an electric in the hands of a crook would be its silence. That must be it—silence. But why should silence be of any particular importance to Simpson? He didn’t have to use any gumshoe methods at the bank; therefore, it looks as if he must have anticipated the need of stealth at the other end when delivering the loot at its destination. “That’s the problem—that destination.” <hr class="chap" /></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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