Weldon ran to his chauffeur.

“Did you take Miss Merrick home?” he eagerly enquired.

“Miss Merrick?  Why, I haven’t seen her, sir, I thought you’d all forgotten me.”

The young man’s heart sank.  Despair seized him.  The detective was carefully examining the car.

“They’re pretty nearly mates, Mr. Weldon. as far as the brown color and general appearances go,” he said.  “But I’m almost positive the car that carried the young lady away was of another make.”

“What make was it?”

The man shook his head.

“Can’t say, sir.  I was mighty stupid, and that’s a fact.  But my mind was so full of that assault and battery case, and the trickery of that fellow Mershone, that I wasn’t looking for anything else.”

“Can you get away?” asked Arthur.  “Can you help me on this case?”

“No, sir; I must remain on duty at the hotel.  But perhaps the young lady is now safe at home, and we’ve been borrowing trouble.  In case she’s been stolen, however, you’d better see Fogerty.”

“Who’s Fogerty?”

“Here’s his card, sir.  He’s a private detective, and may be busy just now, for all I know.  But if you can get Fogerty you’ve got the best man in all New York.”

Arthur sprang into the seat beside his driver and hurried post-haste to the Merrick residence.  In a few minutes Mrs. Merrick was in violent hysterics at the disappearance of her daughter.  Arthur stopped long enough to telephone for a doctor and then drove to the Doyles.  He routed up Uncle John and the Major, who appeared in pajamas and bath-robes, and told them the startling news.

A council of war was straightway held.  Uncle John trembled with nervousness; Arthur was mentally stupefied; the Major alone was calm.

“In the first place,” said he, “what object could the man have in carrying off Louise?” Arthur hesitated.

“To prevent our marriage, I suppose,” he answered.  “Mershone has an idea he loves Louise.  He made wild love to her until she cut his acquaintance.”

“But it won’t help him any to separate her from her friends, or her promised husband,” declared the Major.  “Don’t worry.  We’re sure to find her, sooner or later.”

“How?  How shall we find her?” cried Uncle John.  “Will he murder her, or what?”

“Why, as for that, John, he’s safe locked up in jail for the present, and unable to murder anyone,” retorted the Major.  “It’s probable he meant to follow Louise, and induce her by fair means or foul to marry him.  But he’s harmless enough for the time being.”

“It’s not for long, though,” said Arthur, fearfully.  “They’re liable to let him out in the morning, for he has powerful friends, scoundrel though he is.  And when he is free—­”

“Then he must be shadowed, of course,” returned the Major, nodding wisely.  “If it’s true the fellow loves Louise, then he’s no intention of hurting her.  So make your minds easy.  Wherever the poor lass has been taken to, she’s probably safe enough.”