We had agreed that the garage keeper would, of course, shed little
light on the mystery. He was a crook. But he would find no
difficulty, doubtless, in showing that there was nothing on which
to hold him.

Still, Garrick had evidently figured out a way to go ahead while
we had all been floundering around, helpless. His silence had
merely masked his consideration of a plan.

"You three stay here," he ordered. "If anyone should come in, hold
him. Don't let anyone get away. But I don't think there will be
anyone. I'll be back within an hour or so."

It was far past midnight already, as we sat uncomfortably in the
reeking atmosphere of the garage. The hours seemed to drag
interminably. Almost I wished that something would happen to break
the monotony and the suspense. Our lonely vigil went unrewarded,
however. No one came; there was not even a ring at the telephone.

As nearly as I could figure it out, McBirney was the only one who
seemed to have gained much so far. He had looked over the cars
most carefully. There were half a dozen of them, in all.

"I don't doubt," he concluded, "that all of them have been stolen.
But there are only two here that I can identify. They certainly
are clever at fixing them up. Look at all the parts they keep
ready for use. They could build a car, here."

"Yes," agreed Dillon, looking at the expensive "junk" that was
lying about. "There is quite enough to warrant closing the place,