Read The Chase of the Golden Plate for Free Online

ground under the smoking-room window, where the gold plate had been thrown, and there were what seemed to be footprints in the grass, but it was all nothing.”
    â€œWe can’t arrest a dent and footprints,” said the Supreme Intelligence cuttingly.
    The satellites laughed sadly. It was part of the deference they owed to the Supreme Intelligence.
    â€œAnd you, Blanton?” asked Mr. Mallory. “What did you do with the list of invited guests?”
    â€œI haven’t got a good start yet,” responded Blanton hopelessly. “There are three hundred and sixty names on the list. I have been able to see possibly thirty. It’s worse than making a city directory. I won’t be through for a month. Randolph and his wife checked off a large number of these whom they knew were there. The others I am looking up as rapidly as I can.”
    The detectives sat moodily thoughtful for uncounted minutes. Finally Detective Mallory broke the silence.
    â€œThere seems to be no question but that any clew that might have come from either of the automobiles is disposed of unless it is the fact that we now know one of the thieves was wounded. I readily see how the theft could have been committed by a man as bold as this fellow. Now we must concentrate all our efforts to running down the invited guests and learning just where they were that evening. All of you will have to get on this job and hustle it. We know that the Burglar did present an invitation-card with a name on it.”
    The detectives went their respective ways and then Detective Mallory deigned to receive representatives of the press, among them Hutchinson Hatch. Hatch was worried. He knew a whole lot of things, but they didn’t do him any good. He felt that he could print nothing as it stood, yet he would not tell the police, because that would give it to everyone else, and he had a picture of how the Supreme Intelligence would tangle it if he got hold of it.
    â€œWell, boys,” said Detective Mallory smilingly, when the press filed in, “there’s nothing to say. Frankly, I will tell you that we have not been able to learn anything—at least anything that can be given out. You know, of course, about the finding of the two automobiles that figured in the case, and the blood-stained cushion?”
    The press nodded collectively.
    â€œWell, that’s all there is yet. My men are still at work, but I’m a little afraid the gold plate will never be found. It has probably been melted up. The cleverness of the thieves you can judge for yourself by the manner in which they handled the automobiles.”
    And yet Hatch was not surprised when, late that night, Police Headquarters made known the latest sensation. This was a bulletin, based on a telephone message from Stuyvesant Randolph to the effect that the gold plate had been returned by express to Seven Oaks. This mystified the police beyond description; but official mystification was as nothing to Hatch’s state of mind. He knew of the scene in Dick Herbert’s room and remembered Mr. Randolph’s threat.
    â€œThen Dick did have the plate,” he told himself.

CHAPTER VIII
    Whole flocks of detectives, reporters, and newspaper artists appeared at Seven Oaks early next morning. It had been too late to press an investigation the night before. The newspapers had only time telephonically to confirm the return of the plate. Now the investigators unanimously voiced one sentiment: “Show us!”
    Hatch arrived in the party headed by Detective Mallory, with Downey and Cunningham trailing. Blanton was off somewhere with his little list, presumably still at it. Mr. Randolph had not come down to breakfast when the investigators arrived, but had given his servant permission to exhibit the plate, the wrappings in which it had come, and the string wherewith it had been tied.
    The plate arrived in a heavy paper-board box, covered twice over with a plain piece of stiff