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If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: A Battle for Right - A Clash of Wits - -Author: Nicholas Carter - -Release Date: June 19, 2020 [eBook #62428] -[Most recently updated: March 22, 2021] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: David Edwards, Nahum Maso i Carcases, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BATTLE FOR RIGHT *** - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes: - -The original spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation have been retained, -with the exception of apparent typographical errors which have been -corrected. - -Text in Italics is indicated between _underscores_. - -Text in Small Capitals has been replaced by regular uppercase text. - - * * * * * - - - - - NICK CARTER STORIES - - New Magnet Library - - PRICE, FIFTEEN CENTS - - _Not a Dull Book in This List_ - - -Nick Carter stands for an interesting detective story. The fact that -the books in this line are so uniformly good is entirely due to the -work of a specialist. The man who wrote these stories produced no -other type of fiction. His mind was concentrated upon the creation of -new plots and situations in which his hero emerged triumphantly from -all sorts of trouble, and landed the criminal just where he should -be—behind the bars. - -The author of these stories knew more about writing detective stories -than any other single person. - -Following is a list of the best Nick Carter stories. They have been -selected with extreme care, and we unhesitatingly recommend each of -them as being fully as interesting as any detective story between cloth -covers which sells at ten times the price. - -If you do not know Nick Carter, buy a copy of any of the New Magnet -Library books, and get acquainted. He will surprise and delight you. - - - _ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_ - - 850—Wanted: A Clew By Nicholas Carter - 851—A Tangled Skein By Nicholas Carter - 852—The Bullion Mystery By Nicholas Carter - 853—The Man of Riddles By Nicholas Carter - 854—A Miscarriage of Justice By Nicholas Carter - 855—The Gloved Hand By Nicholas Carter - 856—Spoilers and the Spoils By Nicholas Carter - 857—The Deeper Game By Nicholas Carter - 858—Bolts from Blue Skies By Nicholas Carter - 859—Unseen Foes By Nicholas Carter - 860—Knaves in High Places By Nicholas Carter - 861—The Microbe of Crime By Nicholas Carter - 862—In the Toils of Fear By Nicholas Carter - 863—A Heritage of Trouble By Nicholas Carter - 864—Called to Account By Nicholas Carter - 865—The Just and the Unjust By Nicholas Carter - 866—Instinct at Fault By Nicholas Carter - 867—A Rogue Worth Trapping By Nicholas Carter - 868—A Rope of Slender Threads By Nicholas Carter - 869—The Last Call By Nicholas Carter - 870—The Spoils of Chance By Nicholas Carter - 871—A Struggle With Destiny By Nicholas Carter - 872—The Slave of Crime By Nicholas Carter - 873—The Crook’s Blind By Nicholas Carter - 874—A Rascal of Quality By Nicholas Carter - 875—With Shackles of Fire By Nicholas Carter - 876—The Man Who Changed Faces By Nicholas Carter - 877—The Fixed Alibi By Nicholas Carter - 878—Out With the Tide By Nicholas Carter - 879—The Soul Destroyers By Nicholas Carter - 880—The Wages of Rascality By Nicholas Carter - 881—Birds of Prey By Nicholas Carter - 882—When Destruction Threatens By Nicholas Carter - 883—The Keeper of Black Hounds By Nicholas Carter - 884—The Door of Doubt By Nicholas Carter - 885—The Wolf Within By Nicholas Carter - 886—A Perilous Parole By Nicholas Carter - 887—The Trail of the Fingerprints By Nicholas Carter - 888—Dodging the Law By Nicholas Carter - 889—A Crime in Paradise By Nicholas Carter - 890—On the Ragged Edge By Nicholas Carter - 891—The Red God of Tragedy By Nicholas Carter - 892—The Man Who Paid By Nicholas Carter - 893—The Blind Man’s Daughter By Nicholas Carter - 894—One Object in Life By Nicholas Carter - 895—As a Crook Sows By Nicholas Carter - 896—In Record Time By Nicholas Carter - 897—Held in Suspense By Nicholas Carter - 898—The $100,000 Kiss By Nicholas Carter - 899—Just One Slip By Nicholas Carter - 900—On a Million-dollar Trail By Nicholas Carter - 901—A Weird Treasure By Nicholas Carter - 902—The Middle Link By Nicholas Carter - 903—To the Ends of the Earth By Nicholas Carter - 904—When Honors Pall By Nicholas Carter - 905—The Yellow Brand By Nicholas Carter - 906—A New Serpent in Eden By Nicholas Carter - 907—When Brave Men Tremble By Nicholas Carter - 908—A Test of Courage By Nicholas Carter - 909—Where Peril Beckons By Nicholas Carter - 910—The Gargoni Girdle By Nicholas Carter - 911—Rascals & Co. By Nicholas Carter - 912—Too Late to Talk By Nicholas Carter - 913—Satan’s Apt Pupil By Nicholas Carter - 914—The Girl Prisoner By Nicholas Carter - 915—The Danger of Folly By Nicholas Carter - 916—One Shipwreck Too Many By Nicholas Carter - 917—Scourged by Fear By Nicholas Carter - - - - - A Battle for Right - - OR, - - A CLASH OF WITS - - - BY - - NICHOLAS CARTER - - Author of the celebrated stories of Nick Carter’s adventures, which - are published exclusively in the NEW MAGNET LIBRARY, conceded - to be among the best detective tales ever written. - - - [Illustration] - - - STREET & SMITH CORPORATION - PUBLISHERS - 79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York - - - - - Copyright, 1916 - By STREET & SMITH - - A Battle for Right - - - (Printed in the United States of America) - - All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign - languages, including the Scandinavian. - - - - - A BATTLE FOR RIGHT - - - - - CHAPTER I. - - AT A GAME OF POKER. - - -Five men were playing cards in a room in the Old Pike Inn. - -It was a road house, on a well-traveled highway—a great favorite with -automobiles—in one of the picturesque valleys that alternate with -towering heights within easy motoring distance of New York City. - -The Old Pike Inn had its spacious verandas, its big restaurant, its -smaller dining rooms for private parties, and its great reception hall, -with polished floor, in which dances, formal and informal, were in -progress every evening during most of the year. - -It was a place to which wealthy New Yorkers often brought their wives -and daughters for luncheon or dinner, and its “tone” was regarded -as above criticism. Everything suggested refinement, the lavish -expenditure of money for the comfort and entertainment of guests, and -an artistic atmosphere that was both subtle and unmistakable. Captain -Brown, who managed the Old Pike Inn, knew his business. - -Only a privileged number of his patrons were aware that they could play -a quiet game of “draw” in secluded rooms, with the assurance that there -could be no interference, and where their occupation would never be -suspected by anybody not in the secret. - -The five men playing were all young, and every one showed in the -flushed countenance that something more than the excitement of the game -had heated his blood and rendered his speech at times somewhat thick. - -Other evidence along this line was the fact that a glass stood near -each man, on a separate stand, while bottles of liquor on a table -within arm’s length of the players were frequently brought into use -by the two soft-footed waiters, who were the only persons in the room -besides the gamblers. - -There was very little talking. Men who play poker are not apt to say -much. Their attention must be concentrated on the game, if they expect -to hold their own. - -An occasional remark on some general topic was uttered, but as a -rule each player, holding his cards well concealed in the hollow of -his hand, watched the play of the others, and sought, by strained -vigilance, to get the better of the struggle. Silence is a good thing -in a poker game. - -Suddenly, just as one of the waiters leaned over to pour some liquor -into one of the glasses, the person for whom it was intended jumped to -his feet and sent the light stand to the floor with a crash—bottle, -glass and all. At the same time he pointed an accusing finger at the -man opposite him. - -“Cheat!” he shouted. - -At the ominous word, the other four men were also on their feet. - -“What’s that, Howard?” demanded one of them. - -“He heard what I said, Jack!” thundered the other. “Look at him! He -knows he brought up an ace of clubs from under the table. I saw him do -it. He was so clumsy that I actually was able to make out what the card -was.” - -“You’re a liar!” cried the man accused. - -It was useless for the others to try to keep the two apart after that. - -With a mighty sweep, he who had cried “Cheat!” pushed the rather heavy -table, with its green baize top and its stacks of chips and scattered -cards, to one side, and leaped upon the man he had denounced. - -The two waiters were big fellows, notwithstanding their ability to -move noiselessly about the room. They hurled themselves between the -combatants. - -Their interference was only just in time to prevent a straight left -from landing on the chin of the player who had been charged with -cheating, and at that, one of them got the fist himself in the back of -his neck. - -“Don’t, Mr. Milmarsh!” begged the other waiter, as he wound his arms -around the waist of the infuriated owner of the fist. “Don’t make a -noise! They’ll hear it downstairs. It’s a mistake! It must be!” - -But Howard Milmarsh cared only for vengeance just then. - -“Get away, will you?” was all he replied. “If you don’t, I’ll break -your skull with a bottle. I’m going to make that scoundrel over there -confess, and then I’ll thrash him till he won’t know that he ever had a -face. It never _will_ be the same face again,” he added grimly. - -But the waiter hung on to the young fellow, while his comrade tried -to push the other man back toward the door of an anteroom where hung -the coats and hats of the players, and which was also fitted up as a -lavatory. - -“Come back here, you white-livered cur!” shouted Milmarsh. “You, I -mean—Richard Jarvis! The fellow who calls himself a cousin of mine! -Come back and let us look at what you have inside your cuff!” - -The man he had called Richard Jarvis, who had been slinking behind the -others, as if he had changed his mind about fighting, and desired only -to get away, made a quick move toward the door leading to the other -part of the house. - -“Stop him!” shouted Milmarsh. “If once he gets out of that door he’ll -destroy the evidence.” - -“What do you mean by evidence?” asked Jack Denby. “Do you think Jarvis -is hiding cards about him now?” - -“I know he is,” was the hot reply. - -“Bring him back, then!” cried Denby. “Let’s look!” - -The two waiters and the three other players, including Jack Denby, -surrounded Jarvis, keeping a wary eye on Howard Milmarsh, to see that -he did not take the cowering wretch by the throat. - -“His left cuff!” cried Milmarsh. “Look inside!” - -“By Jove!” broke out Jack Denby. - -He had thrust his fingers inside the stiff shirt cuff of the accused -man and brought out three cards. They were the ace of hearts, the king -of diamonds, and the king of clubs. - -He threw them upon the table, faces upward, with a grunt of disgust. - -“There you are, boys!” exclaimed Howard Milmarsh. “He brought out the -other ace, as I told you—and I saw him do it. His idea was to ‘sweeten’ -his hand, of course. He meant to do the same thing with these other -cards you’ve just taken from him. He may have others about him—in his -pockets, down the back of his neck, or anywhere. He seems to have the -trick of hiding cards down fine.” - -“I haven’t any other cards,” protested Richard Jarvis. - -“You had those,” Jack Denby reminded him. - -“I don’t know how they got caught in my cuff.” - -A burst of laughter from Denby and the three other men rang through the -room. - -“You don’t know how they got ‘caught,’ eh?” sneered Denby. “Cards don’t -often get ‘caught’ inside a man’s shirt cuff without some help. I guess -you’d better give up all the money you have won to-night, and we’ll -divide it among the rest of us. I don’t know which has lost the most, -but it is quite sure that all you have is not your own—as an honest -man. Eh, Milmarsh?” - -“I don’t care what is done with the money he cheated us out of,” -returned Howard Milmarsh coldly. “That is not of any importance to me.” - -“It is to me,” declared Denby, laughing. “I was about broke. I should -have had to drop out before the next hand.” - -“All right, Jack! You can have my share, and welcome,” said Howard -indifferently. “You have earned it by holding that rascal back when -he was going to sneak away. What he has to answer to me for are two -things.” - -“That so? What are they?” - -“In the first place, he is a cheat—a blackleg—and he insulted me by -presuming to sit in a poker game with me.” - -“Well, he insulted us all in that respect, old man,” observed Denby. - -“In the next place, he applied a word to me that he must answer for, -and which can be done only in one way,” continued Howard Milmarsh. -“That way is to stand up and take his thrashing. Or, if he prefers, to -take it lying down. It is immaterial to me.” - -Milmarsh threw off his coat and continued to walk toward Jarvis, who -was hiding behind the two big serving men. - -“Come out of that, Jarvis! Stand aside there, you two!” commanded -Milmarsh, addressing the waiters. - -The men shrugged their shoulders. They were supposed to keep order if -any persons unknown to the management of the Old Pike Inn happened -to intrude. But these five young men were all members of wealthy and -prominent families, and were not to be treated like mere brawlers, of -no social standing. - -Howard pushed past them, and they stepped out of his way. They did not -care much for Richard Jarvis, anyhow. - -When Jarvis saw that he could not avoid an encounter with his cousin, -he tried to pull himself together, and made a show of putting up his -hands. - -Hardly had he done so, when Milmarsh sent a crashing swing into -his chest. The blow was intended for the chin, but Jarvis, by quick -defense, diverted it, thus saving the vulnerable part of his person. - -Jarvis knew something about boxing, and he retaliated to Milmarsh’s -onslaught with a glancing blow on the forehead that made his cousin -mad. The consequence was a feint to the chest, which Jarvis blocked, -and then a tremendous jab at the chin that stretched the latter across -the floor, senseless. - -“By George, Milmarsh! He’s dead!” cried one of the other players, in -startled tones, as he knelt by the side of the prostrate Jarvis. “You -gave him a tap that settled him.” - -The speaker was Budworth Clarke, a young doctor, who had lately taken -his diploma and hung out his shingle, and he delivered himself with -authority. - -“It can’t be, Bud,” protested Milmarsh. “I only landed an ordinary -knock-out.” - -“You thought you did,” was the reply. “But he must have had a weak -heart. Now, the thing for you to do is to get a lawyer, quick. We may -show that it was an accident, but we can’t get over the fact that he -has passed out.” - -Howard Milmarsh did not wait for the end of this oration. He walked -deliberately to the outer door of the room, unlocked it with the key -that had never been removed from the keyhole, and went down the two -flights of stairs which led to the great reception room. - -The usual nightly “hop” was in progress. But Milmarsh was in evening -dress, and, though a close observer might have noted his flushed face -and guessed the cause to be drink, he was able to pass around the -throng without particular regard from anybody. - -“I’ll go right home,” he muttered. “It’s the only thing I can do. Then -I will see.” - -It was just as he reached the outer door—where half a dozen -automobiles were drawn up on the great asphalt space where visitors to -the Old Pike Inn could park their machines when they did not care to -have them run into the garage—that he exchanged a cheerful good evening -with a handsome man, in evening clothes, whose keen eyes followed him -as he passed out. - -“Young Milmarsh!” observed this gentleman to himself. “He’s been -drinking again! Great pity! A fine young fellow! And owner of more -property than any one in this part of the country. That is, he _will_ -own it when his father dies. Well, I suppose he feels that he must have -his fling. But I’m sorry.” - -The maker of these observations was a person known the world over as a -great detective. His name was Nick Carter. - -He watched Howard Milmarsh go to a handsome car, in which the chauffeur -was sitting half asleep, and get in. The young man himself took the -wheel. Then, after one quick glance in the detective’s direction, he -drove hurriedly away up the winding road that led to the great Milmarsh -mansion on the hill. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - - REMORSE. - - -The great steel-manufacturing firm of Howard Milmarsh & Son, with its -immense plant in western Pennsylvania and its palatial offices in -New York, was not any better known in business circles than was the -palatial home of the head of the house among the Westchester hills. - -It had been the custom of Howard Milmarsh, the elder, to entertain -lavishly for years, his brilliant wife being an acknowledged leader of -society. Then, one night, she took cold in her limousine, riding from -a ball in New York to their home, dressed only in the light ball gown, -with a flimsy lace scarf over her bare shoulders. - -It is unnecessary to go into the details of her illness. Pneumonia is -a swift disease. In ten days she was dead, and a pall settled over the -spacious and luxurious mansion. - -There was a large funeral, of course. That was the last large gathering -of the friends and acquaintances of the Milmarshes the house saw. -Her husband became a broken man, physically and mentally. He had -an efficient and honest manager at the head of his vast business -interests, so that there was no lack of money. But he seemed to lose -all care for the world after his wife passed away. - -Howard Milmarsh, the younger—the personage who struck down his cheating -cousin, Richard Jarvis, in the poker game at the Old Pike Inn—lived -alone with his father, and was the only comfort the elder man had. - -But young Howard was full of life and youth, and it was natural for him -to desire entertainment away from the great, gloomy house. - -Thus it was that he often spent days and nights in the gay districts -of New York City, and often drank rather more than was good for him. -He was not a drunkard. In fact, most persons would have said that he -did not drink at all, measuring him by other young men of his social -position and wealth. Nevertheless, he did give way occasionally—as he -had done on this night in the Inn—and there was always danger that he -might plunge deeper into dissipation if he were left to himself. - -“But never again!” he muttered, as he drove the high-powered car up the -winding hill, while the chauffeur nodded beside him. “I’ve played my -last card and I’ve taken my last drink. I wish I’d made that resolution -before I went into that cardroom to-night.” - -“Beg pardon, sir!” interrupted the chauffeur drowsily. “Did you tell me -to take the wheel?” - -“I didn’t speak.” - -“Oh, didn’t you, sir? I beg your pardon.” - -“But we are nearly up to the house. You can take hold now.” - -They changed places. Then, when the machine was again making its way up -the road, Howard Milmarsh—who had been trying to collect his thoughts -in the cool night air, and who had so far succeeded that he had managed -to throw off the effects of the liquor he had consumed—directed -the chauffeur to keep the car in front of the entrance, under the -porte-cochère, while he went inside. - -“I am going out again,” he added briefly, as the car drew up at the -doorway. - -Howard hastened, first of all, to his own room, where he found his -valet, busy brushing some clothes. - -“Fill two traveling bags with clothes and things for a week, Simpkins,” -he ordered briefly. “But first help me into a business suit, with a -soft hat. Give me my automatic revolver, and that heavy hickory stick I -use for walking in the country.” - -“Very good, sir,” replied the imperturbable Simpkins. - -In five minutes Howard Milmarsh had changed his clothes, with the help -of the valet, and, telling the latter to place the bags in the car at -the door, the young man went to his father’s private room adjoining his -bedroom, and knocked at the door. - -“Why, Howard, what’s the matter?” demanded the millionaire, as his son -entered hastily, before his father could tell him to come in. “You look -excited. Haven’t been drinking, have you?” - -“Not much. I’ve killed Richard Jarvis.” - -The young man said this coolly, but it was the coolness of desperation. -His wild eyes and haggard cheeks told their own story. No further -confirmation of his startling confession was necessary. - -Howard Milmarsh, the elder, was a slender man, with a pale face and -hollow cheeks. He arose from the cushioned chair with difficulty, -and, as he moved toward his son, he swayed, as if he had not complete -command of his limbs. - -“How was it?” he gasped at last. - -“He cheated at cards.” - -“Ah! That has been charged against him before.” - -“And we fought.” - -“Yes?” - -“I struck him a blow harder than I had intended. It killed him. He had -a weak heart, Budworth Clarke said. But—father, he called me a liar.” - -“I see. And you struck him.” - -“Yes. He had been caught with aces up his sleeve, inside his shirt -cuff. That was the beginning of the trouble. Then, when he was accused -of what there was actual proof of, he applied the word to me that I -could not take. I killed him!” - -“Killed him!” echoed the older man vacantly, as he sank back into his -chair. - -“So, now, father, I am going away. I cannot stay here and face a trial -for murder.” - -“You would be acquitted,” his father put in quickly. “The provocation -was one you could not pass over. Then, again, his death was an -accident. If his heart was weak——” - -“I know, father. We can make all the excuses we please, and, perhaps, -they might convince a jury. But the disgrace on our name would remain, -and I should still feel that I had become a murderer—even though I did -not mean it. So, good-bye, father! Good-bye! I will let you hear from -me when I can. I do not know where I am going, and, if I did, I would -not tell you, so that you would not have to say what was not true when -you said to people that you did not know.” - -The manufacturer went to a safe that stood at one side of his room and -took out a package of bank notes. He handed them to his son. - -“There are ten thousand dollars, Howard. When you need more, let me -know. And now, good-bye, my son. I may never see you again. I am not -well. But come back soon, if you can. You will know what the result of -the inquiry into the death of Dick Jarvis is if you watch the papers.” - -“I may be where I cannot easily get New York papers, father. I intend -to go as far away from what we call civilization as I can. I don’t know -where. But it doesn’t matter. There is one thing I want to say in your -presence, father, before I go away—one vow I mean to make.” - -“Yes?” - -“I will not raise my hand in anger against anybody again. I don’t care -what the provocation, I will not fight.” - -“I don’t see how you can make such a resolution as that, my son. -Sometimes an occasion will arise when you cannot avoid fighting.” - -“I know that. But I will avoid it, even under such conditions as -those,” declared Howard resolutely. “Don’t you see, father, that that -will be my punishment for what I did to-night to Dick Jarvis?” - -The millionaire shook his head. It seemed to him that his son was -making a vow that he would find it impossible to keep. - -“I do not think you should hold yourself to such a pledge as that,” he -said. “Anyhow, I believe I shall be able to smooth matters over for you -so that you can soon return home. I only have you, now that your mother -is gone, and I want you with me for the little time I have to live.” - -“Nonsense, father,” returned Howard affectionately. “You will be alive -twenty years from now. Long before that I hope I shall have found a -way to come home and be a decent citizen, but I confess I don’t see my -way clear now. Good-bye!” - -With a hearty clasp of his father’s hand, Howard Milmarsh turned away -and fairly ran from the room. - -The head of the great steel firm—whom so many thousands envied for his -wealth, and presumably his happiness—sank back in his deep chair, and -let the tears trickle slowly down his worn cheeks. The widower felt as -if his heart had been broken for the second time. - -Meanwhile, the son dashed down the wide staircase and hurried into the -waiting machine. - -The traveling bags were already stowed away in the back of the car, and -Simpkins stood at the side of it, overcoat and hat on, to go with his -employer. - -“I shan’t want you, Simpkins,” said Howard calmly. “To-morrow morning -go in and see my father. He will make arrangements with you. I shall be -away for a week—perhaps much longer. I am going to New York. Drive on, -Gustave!” he added, to his chauffeur. “Take the road straight into New -York and stop at the Hotel Supremacy. You know where that is.” - -“Yes, sir,” replied Gustave briefly, as he threw on the power. - -The road Gustave took did not lead past the Old Pike Inn. Howard -Milmarsh had remembered that when he gave the direction. He did not -want to run right into the arms of the law, and he did not forget that -he had seen Nick Carter watching him from the porch of the popular -resort. - -It was not the habit of Carter to take up any ordinary murder case, -even when it came immediately under his notice. But Howard Milmarsh had -a feeling that the great detective would surely concern himself in this -one, for he had long been a friend of Howard’s father. - -While Howard Milmarsh skimmed along at thirty miles an hour and more -in the direction of New York, Nick was hurrying up to the Milmarsh -mansion in the large, gray car that he generally used for his country -excursions, and which had brought him to the Old Pike Inn that evening. - -“Mr. Nick Carter would like to see you, sir,” announced a -wooden-visaged servant in livery to the millionaire, not more than -twenty minutes after the departure of his son. “He will not detain you -long, he told me to say.” - -“Show him in, of course!” ordered Milmarsh, arousing himself and -preparing to receive his caller smilingly. - -“Hello, Carter!” was his warm greeting. “I’m very glad to see you. Did -you just run up from New York?” - -“No,” was the grave reply. “I’ve been at the Old Pike Inn most of the -evening. I came up to speak to you about your son Howard!” - -The millionaire jumped forward and held up a hand close to the -detective’s face to silence him, while an expression of agonized terror -appeared on his haggard, aristocratic face. - -“Hush!” - - - - - CHAPTER III. - - WHO KILLED JARVIS? - - -“You know that Howard had a fight in the Inn to-night?” asked Nick, in -a low tone. - -“Yes. He has told me. But—but it was an accident. He did not mean to do -it. You know my son too well to believe anything else.” - -“I know he is hot-tempered, and that he had been drinking to-night,” -was the response. “But I want to tell you——” - -“No, no! Don’t tell me! I know all about——” - -“I don’t think you do.” - -“Yes, I do. My boy told me. What is the use of repeating——” - -The detective smiled protestingly, as he took the millionaire’s wrist -in his fist, to keep him quiet. - -“Let me speak, Mr. Milmarsh. I came to tell you that your son did _not_ -kill Richard Jarvis.” - -“Not kill him? Are you sure of that? Is he alive?” - -“He was alive for ten minutes after your son struck him. In fact, -he was as well as ever. The blow on the chin was only one of the -sleep-producing kind that are dealt at many boxing matches. What they -call a ‘knock-out.’ Jarvis had entirely recovered from that almost -before Howard was out of the Inn.” - -“Then Dick Jarvis is alive?” asked Milmarsh eagerly. - -“_No, he is dead!_” - -Howard Milmarsh fell back, his mouth dropping open and a terrified -light gathering in his eyes. - -“Dead?” - -“Yes. But, as I have told you, your boy did not kill him. You need have -no fear about that. Where is your son? I should like to tell him. I -have no doubt he is nearly out of his mind over the belief that he has -committed murder.” - -“He is. But he is not at home. He has gone away—to New York, I believe. -I hope he will be back in the morning. Tell me how it is that Richard -Jarvis is dead. I have had no communication with him or his father -since long before my wife died, but I am sorry Richard is dead.” - -“He was not really a cousin of your son’s, was he?” asked Carter. - -“No. His father was my wife’s half brother, so that I never considered -him a relative, in the true sense of the word. And yet, if I had no -son——” - -“I know all about that,” interrupted the detective. “Don’t think of -it. You have a son, and a good one, take him altogether. As for Richard -Jarvis’ death, it is not easily explained. After your son left the Inn, -Thomas Jarvis, Richard’s father, appeared there, in a rage, asking for -his son.” - -“They always quarrel a great deal, I believe,” remarked the -millionaire. “Richard’s drinking and gambling is the cause of it, I’ve -been told. They have not any too much money, and it makes Thomas Jarvis -angry when Richard wastes any in dissipation. But go on.” - -“Thomas Jarvis forced his way upstairs, to the poker room, and there -was a hot dispute between father and son. One of the waiters was the -only other person in the room. He says that, in the midst of the fuss, -Richard made a lunge at his father with his fist, but, being stupid -with drink—for he had a lot more after the trouble with Howard—he -stumbled over the disordered rug and pitched headlong on an iron fender -in front of the open fireplace.” - -“And it killed him?” - -“Fractured the skull. I saw him. He was quite dead. But—there was a -peculiar little circumstance that I have not said anything about, and -shan’t, unless the coroner brings it up.” - -“What was that?” - -“Some small fragments of glass were in the wound, and a broken -champagne bottle lay at his side. It may have been that he fell upon -the bits of glass, if the bottle had been previously broken. But—if the -coroner is suspicious, he might make an exhaustive inquiry in the hope -of proving that the bottle had been used as a weapon and that Thomas -Jarvis had killed his son. That is all I came to tell you,” added the -detective. “I hope your son will be home in the morning. If not, he’ll -come as soon as he learns the truth, anyhow. I don’t know just what the -papers will publish about it to-morrow. I don’t think they will have -anything.” - -The detective said this with a curious smile that caused the -millionaire to ask him why he thought so. - -“There are ways of holding back news from even the livest papers—if -you know how to do it, and have a little influence,” he admitted -significantly. - -“I wish you would stay and smoke a cigar with me, Carter,” said the -millionaire, as the detective got up to go. “There is something I -wanted to speak to you about.” - -Carter nodded and took the seat proffered by his host. He accepted a -cigar from the humidor at his elbow. Then, as he lighted up and blew a -ring of smoke from his lips, he glanced inquiringly at the millionaire. - -“It is only about my health, Carter,” explained Milmarsh. “I don’t -believe I shall live very long. When I die, of course Howard will -succeed me, and I have little doubt he will take an active part in -managing the business. He won’t have to change the title of the firm. -It will continue to be Howard Milmarsh & Son. That is my desire, -expressed in my will.” - -“I know Howard wouldn’t want to change that,” declared the detective. -“Howard has considerable respect for the name you both bear. But I -don’t believe you are going to die for many years.” - -“I know better,” returned the other. “I know the symptoms, -unfortunately, too well. That is why I am not smoking this evening. All -I want to ask of you is that you will see Howard gets his birthright.” - -“You have made all proper, legal arrangements, have you not? Your will -is in a safe place, I suppose?” - -“Yes. That is not it. One copy of my will is in my safe-deposit box in -my New York bank, and another is in the possession of my attorneys, -Johnson, Robertson & Judkins, of New York. What has always troubled me -is that Howard is a little wild, and that he might do something which -would give enemies an opportunity to rob him of his inheritance.” - -“How could anybody do that?” queried Nick, smoking steadily. “Even -if you had not made a will, Howard is your only child, and he would -succeed as heir at law.” - -“But, suppose he were not to claim his inheritance? Suppose, for some -reason, he could not be found?” - -“What do you mean?” asked the detective. “Don’t you know where he -is now? If he went to New York, we could hear of him at the Hotel -Supremacy, I have no doubt. That is where he generally goes when he’s -in the city. Of course, he may have gone to one of his clubs. But, even -then, it would not be hard to find him.” - -Nick Carter smoked in silence for a full minute before he spoke again. -Then he asked, more earnestly than he had spoken hitherto: - -“Do you think Howard has gone farther than New York—that he has sailed -to some foreign country, for instance?” - -“I don’t know where he is,” replied the millionaire. “What I do know,” -he continued slowly, and with his breath coming fast between his words, -“is that I am not well to-night, and that a presentiment hangs over me -that I should have taken better care of my boy.” - -“Pshaw! You have nothing to reproach yourself with in that respect. I -can testify to that,” said Carter encouragingly. “You have been excited -over this unfortunate affair at the Old Pike Inn, and it has got on -your nerves. Howard deserves to be spanked for upsetting his father in -this way. Let me give you a little brandy.” - -He went to the handsome mahogany cellaret at one side of the room, and -brought out a decanter of brandy. - -The detective had visited Howard Milmarsh many times, and he knew just -where to find anything that might be wanted in this room. He poured out -a little of the liquor and gave it to the millionaire. - -“Thanks!” gasped Milmarsh. “That will do me good. Now, Carter, will -you promise me that in case anything happens to me before Howard comes -back, you will see that he is not defrauded in any way?” - -“Upon my word, I don’t see the necessity,” laughed the detective. “But, -of course, I will do it.” - -“That is not all,” went on the millionaire, who seemed to be stronger -now than at any time since Carter had been with him. “I have already -taken legal measures to give you the authority you might require. The -papers are in the hands of Johnson, Robertson & Judkins, all properly -drawn up.” - -“What papers?” - -“Making you the legal guardian of my son until he is in full possession -of my estate. After that, he can take care of himself.” - -“Rather a queer—or, at least, an unusual—proceeding,” remarked the -detective. - -“Possibly. But it will make Howard safer. Now, I know you would do -anything for Howard or his father. We have been friends too long for me -to doubt that. But I like to do matters of business in a businesslike -way. Therefore I have provided that you shall receive five per cent of -the value of the whole estate when Howard takes legal possession. Will -that be satisfactory?” - -“Satisfactory?” repeated Nick. “Why, you are rated at ten million -dollars—perhaps more. Five per cent of that would be——” - -“Never mind about figuring it up,” interrupted Howard Milmarsh, smiling -wanly. “You will accept the trust?” - -“Of course.” - -“Thanks, old friend! I felt sure you would. I hope I shall hear -something about my boy by the morning.” - -“You shall if I can do anything to bring it about,” said Nick, rising. -“I am going to New York now, and I think I know about all the places -in which Howard is likely to take refuge in the great city of light.” - -He went over to Milmarsh and shook hands. It struck the detective that -the millionaire’s hands had never been quite so thin before, and that -he had never noted such a weary look in the hollow eyes. But he made no -comment, of course. - -“Good night,” he called out from the door. “I’ll telephone the house as -soon as I find the boy. Good night!” - -“Good night!” was the response. “I’ll have some of the servants take -the message. I’m going to bed. I feel that I need rest—a long rest!” - -Nick Carter had not reached the bottom of the hill leading from the -Milmarsh mansion to the State road, when he saw the lights of a car -coming toward them, and he knew it must be the car in which young -Howard had gone to New York. - -“Stop!” - -As the detective gave this order to his chauffeur and his big car came -to a halt, the other car drew up alongside and also stopped as the -driver perceived they were waiting for him. - -“Where is Mr. Milmarsh in New York?” asked Carter imperatively. - -“I put him down at the Hotel Supremacy,” was the reply. - -“Did he put up there?” asked Nick, as the other driver pushed his lever -forward, preparatory to going on. “Don’t be in a hurry, please. You -know me, don’t you?” - -“Yes, Mr. Carter!” - -“Then you know you’d better answer me without any quibbling. I asked -whether Mr. Howard Milmarsh went into the Hotel Supremacy, to stop -there for the night?” - -“I don’t think he did, sir.” - -“Why don’t you think so?” - -“Because he stood just inside the lobby after getting out of the car, -and wouldn’t let any of the porters take his bags.” - -“Well?” - -“As I turned my car around, I had a view of the doorway, and I saw Mr. -Milmarsh come out and get into a taxi.” - -“Where did the taxi go?” - -“I don’t know, sir. I didn’t think of following it. That would not have -been any of my business. It vanished among all the other taxis and -motor cars in the avenue. I shouldn’t have thought anything of it at -all if you hadn’t asked me.” - -“I suppose that’s true,” remarked Carter, half to himself. Then, -louder: “That will do. Good night!” - -The detective called up every club, hotel, restaurant, and private home -in which it might be possible to hear of Howard Milmarsh. But the same -answer was returned from all. Nobody had seen him that day or evening. -Even the Hotel Supremacy could give him no information. - -Nick Carter went to his comfortable home in New York, and settled -himself behind the great oaken table he used in his library, as -he lighted one of his own particular perfectos, to think over the -incidents of the evening. - -He was only half through his cigar when the telephone bell rang. With -his customary deliberation, he picked up the instrument and responded, -in his grave, firm tones: - -“Hello! This is Nick Carter speaking!” - -“This is Mr. Howard Milmarsh’s residence, in Westchester. Mr. Milmarsh -died five minutes ago of heart failure!” - -It was the voice of the millionaire steel man’s valet. The detective -knew it at once. - -“I will come there as soon as my car can bring me,” he answered. “In -less than an hour.” - -As he hung up the receiver, he pressed a button that brought into the -room his confidential assistant, Chick Carter. - -“Chick, Howard Milmarsh, the steel manufacturer, is dead. While I am at -the house—which will be all night, and, perhaps longer, try to find the -son, Howard Milmarsh, junior. At least, he is not junior, now that his -father is gone. Young Milmarsh was in New York to-night, and he has not -gone home. Understand?” - -“I understand,” replied Chick quietly. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - - THE WHITE FEATHER. - - -In one of the newer towns of the Canadian Northwest, far enough away -from the usual paths of travel to give it an atmosphere of mystery, -as well as romance, there is—or was, for things have changed in that -town in the last few years—a hotel which made a feature of its cabaret -performances, and in summer considered its gardens and the water -frontage on a really beautiful lake, its greatest attractions. - -The place was known as the Savoy, and the hotel part of it was rather -better than is generally found in the northern lumber regions. - -It was on a summer night, when it was comfortable to sit out of doors, -that a vaudeville entertainment was in progress on the lawn stage of -the Savoy. - -A monologue had just been delivered by a middle-aged comedian, in -evening clothes, who had been a singer in bygone times, but, finding -his voice gone, had been wise enough to “frame up” a “talking turn.” - -The audience liked him, calling him “good old Joe Stokes,” many of the -men inviting him to join them in a glass of beer at their tables, when -he came out from the sacred precincts “back stage.” - -This is a custom in many of the free-and-easy places of amusement in -the West and Northwest, in small communities, and Joe Stokes accepted -the invitations in the good-natured spirit in which they were tendered. - -There was a large gathering, including men from the mines, from the -lumber woods, and from the other industries existing for twenty miles -around, including a sprinkling of workers on the railroad, with some -tourists, who were there because they wanted to be. - -It was this latter class that offered a round of encouraging handclaps -to a delicate-looking young girl, dressed simply in white, with a white -ribbon in her long, dark hair, who came slowly into view and faced the -footlights. - -“What’s comin’ off?” growled a rough-looking man near the stage. “Where -did this kid blow in from?” - -“Guess she belongs to a Sunday school, and got in here by mistake,” -guffawed another of the same type. “Why didn’t old Joe Stokes give us -an extra encore? This girl turn is goin’ to be punk, an’ I know it.” - -The girl was evidently frightened, as if not accustomed to singing in -public. She may not have heard exactly what these men were saying. But -she had caught the note of unfriendliness, and she turned appealingly -to the quarter whence had come the applause of the tourists. - -There were, perhaps, a dozen men and women, who belonged to the tourist -party, sitting apart from most of the other persons in the audience, -and they gave the young girl another round of handclapping, accompanied -by the rattling of glasses on the table. - -The orchestra, consisting of two violins, a cornet, and piano, half -hidden in foliage disposed in front of the stage, seemed to be -uncertain what to play. The leader, his violin in his left hand, -reached over the footlights and took a few sheets of music from the -girl. - -“What do you think o’ that?” chuckled old Joe Stokes. “She didn’t know -enough to give her music to the leader before she come on! She didn’t -have no rehearsal, neither. I should have seen her if she had, and I -never clapped my lamps on her before.” - -There was a well-built young man, with a cap pulled over his eyes, -sitting by himself at a table near that at which the two tough-looking -citizens who had commented on the girl sprawled. - -The young man had on the high-laced boots commonly worn in country -places—East, as well as West—and his sack coat looked as if he were not -at all careful of his clothes, for there were marks of clay, sand and -mud on them, as well as indications that he had come in contact with -the bark of trees, more or less roughly. - -Men who knew the type would say he was a “lumberjack.” - -He kept his eyes on the girl, but not obtrusively. It was evident that -he was interested in her, but was careful not to annoy her by letting -her see that he was looking in her direction. - -During the time the musicians were arranging their music on the stands, -she stood there, a slim little slip of a thing, trembling visibly, but -determined to go bravely through what she had to do. - -“What do you s’pose she’s goin’ to spiel?” grunted one of the roughs to -his companion. - -“Search me! ‘Nearer my God, to Thee!’ maybe.” - -Both laughed coarsely. For a flash of a second, the young fellow who -looked like a lumberman, and who had been regarding the girl on the -stage, turned his keen eyes on the two jeering men. Then he turned his -back on them, as if they were not worth steady consideration. - -The opening bars of the plaintive old Scottish song, “Robin Adair,” -were played by the orchestra. The melody was familiar to them—as it is -to most professional musicians—and they played it well. - -“Thunder!” growled one of the toughs. “Is she goin’ to give us a hymn? -If she is, it will be ‘good night’ for hers!” - -There were noisy laughs from many in the audience, for liquor had been -flowing, and the men were not themselves. At least, it is to be hoped -so, for the honor of that part of the Dominion. - -The singer flushed, but she took up the song when the prelude was -finished, rendering it with a delicacy and pathos that would have -stirred even that rough assemblage had it not been for the ridicule a -few of the hardest men saw fit to express. - -Before she had finished the first verse there was a storm of hisses and -catcalls, and the girl’s voice was drowned. One could see that she was -still singing by watching her lips, but it was impossible for her to be -heard through the growing din. - -Suddenly, a big man, dressed much as was the young man who had been -observing the girl in silence, got up and strode toward the stage. Here -he turned and faced the audience, six feet four inches of brawn and -muscle. - -Many of those in the inclosure recognized him. He was a foreman up in -the lumber woods, and he could strike a blow that would knock an ox -senseless when he had a good swing. His name was Mackenzie Douglas. - -“Stop that, will ye?” he roared. - -As he spoke, he picked up one of the small tables by its twisted wire -leg and flourished it over his head. - -“Anither bit o’ noise, an’ I’ll be amang ye, splittin’ heads wi’ this -wee bit o’ table! Ye all know me, an’ ye ken I’ll do what I say! This -young leddy is singin’ a bonny Scottish song, an’ I want to hear it. -Sing oot, my lassie! Sing oot! I’ll e’en keep order for ye.” - -Mackenzie Douglas had a sour look, and no one was inclined at that -moment to fly in his face. The young man before mentioned smiled -quietly. - -The singer began her song again. Her voice was nothing remarkable. -It was not powerful, but it had been trained, so that she sang true. -Besides, the melody was one that could not be listened to long without -being more or less affected by it. - -This time she made an impression which assured her the sympathy of the -better element in her audience. The old ballad, with its haunting air, -went home to many a calloused heart, and it might have been seen that a -tear sprang out upon a bronzed cheek here and there. - -But there was still a disturbing group near the front, with the two -ruffians who had started the fuss before, ready to drive the girl from -the stage if they could. They were angry at Douglas’ interference, and -they felt that they must “call his bluff,” as one expressed it, in a -low tone, to the other. - -As the girl finished, a storm of applause broke out, but through the -handclapping, thumping, and cheering could be heard loud hisses. It has -often been noticed that even one sharp hiss in a large assemblage will -be heard through the most insistent applause. - -The young man looked quickly in the direction of the two roughs. Even -as he did so, one of them picked up the stub of a cigar from the table -in front of him and hurled it at the singer. It struck her white dress, -leaving a black mark. - -She shrank back, terrified and wondering. It looked as if she could not -understand such an outrage. - -There were shouts of anger and protest from a dozen men. But it was -Mackenzie Douglas who took an active part in the row that broke out so -fiercely. - -In a flash, he was again at the front of the stage, glaring about him. - -“Who threw that?” he demanded, in a voice of thunder. “Point him out -to me! Whaur is the skulkin’ cur that would do a thing like that to -a young lassie who is too good to wipe her shoes on most of us? If I -don’t find the mon that done it, I’ll come forward an’ lick a dozen of -ye till I find the richt one!” - -The bigger of the two men who had been making the demonstration against -the singer let out a loud, defiant laugh. - -“I done it, if you want to know!” he bellowed. “Now, what are yer goin’ -to do about it?” - -“Oh, it’s you, Dan Mosely, is it?” replied the Scot, more angry than -ever. “I might ha’ known it was some one like you!” - -That was all Mackenzie Douglas said just then. The young fellow who had -been watching took a hand. He pushed aside half a dozen men who were in -his way, chairs and all, knocked over a table, and was upon the fellow -Douglas had called Dan Mosely with both of his sinewy hands. - -Taking Dan by the collar, he swung him out of his chair and hurled him -at full length upon the floor, with a couple of chairs on top of him. - -The uproar was terrific. Many men, who had held back from the row at -first, were only too anxious to get into it, now that this quiet young -fellow had blazed the way. - -But Dan Mosely wasn’t beaten yet. The knockdown had sobered him to some -degree, and he was blistering with rage. Shoving the tables and chairs -aside, he managed to reach his feet. - -“Where is that dub?” he roared. “Show him to me!” - -He aimed a tremendous blow at the young man’s face. But a clever duck -of the head prevented its doing any harm. - -“Hello, Bob Gordon!” shouted Mackenzie Douglas to the young man. -“You’re there, are ye? Ye did a gude thing in layin’ out this galoot.” - -He seized Dan Mosely behind as he spoke, for the fellow was trying to -strike Bob Gordon down from behind with a chair. - -“No, ye don’t, Dan!” cried Douglas. “This is goin’ to be a fair -stand-up fight. We’ll hae it by the rules. Tak’ aff yer coats, both of -ye, an’ let’s see who’s best man. Ye hae twenty pounds the best of it, -Dan, but I’m thinkin’ Bob can lick ye in spite of it. Come on, Bob!” - -But, to the intense astonishment of Mackenzie Douglas, as well as of -everybody else who had been watching the fracas, Bob Gordon turned away. - -“I won’t fight him,” said Gordon, in a low voice. - -“What?” howled Douglas. “Why not?” - -“I don’t want to fight!” - -“But what for? This Dan Mosely tried to hit ye, an’ you knocked him -down just now. There was the lassie, too. Ye’ll hae to fight for her -sake.” - -“I won’t fight,” replied Bob Gordon steadily. - -For a few moments it seemed as if Mackenzie Douglas could not -comprehend. His mouth fell open, and he stared at Bob Gordon as if he -were some strange animal, that he never had seen before. - -Dan Mosely laughed raucously. His companion, who had helped him in -annoying the girl on the stage, joined in his coarse mirth. - -“He knows better than to tackle me!” snarled Dan Mosely. “I’d break him -in two in the first round.” - -“Bob Gordon, lad, what does it mean?” - -The big Scot appealed to Gordon almost piteously. He could not make -out why Gordon was backing down. He had never come across a case of -this kind before, where a full-grown man, young and active, backed out -of a combat that it was his actual duty to enter. It was too much for -Douglas. - -“I’ll tell yer what it means,” shouted Dan Mosely derisively. “He’s -afraid! That’s all there is to it. He’s a cur, an’ he don’t dare to put -up his hands agin’ me!” - -Douglas looked searchingly at Gordon, and his great hands twitched, as -if he longed to get into battle himself. - -“Is that so, Gordon? Do ye mean t’ tell me that ye’re afraid?” - -“Yes, Douglas,” returned the young man, after a pause, during which it -could be seen he was fighting with himself. “I’m—_I’m afraid_!” - -Mackenzie Douglas was silent for a second. Then, after raising his hand -on high, as if calling Heaven to witness the awful disgrace, he pointed -a long finger at Bob Gordon, saying, in a tone of denunciation and -scorn: - -“Hoot awa’! You—you—coward!” - - - - - CHAPTER V. - - A CONFESSION. - - -It is hardly necessary to relate that Douglas took the part Bob Gordon -should have played, and gave the burly Dan Mosely the trouncing of -his life. That followed, as a matter of course. The fellow had to be -punished for insulting the singer, and if Gordon would not do the work, -why, Mackenzie Douglas was only too pleased to take on the job. - -But Bob Gordon did not wait to see the battle. - -“Coward!” - -The hateful, ignominious word seemed to pursue him, as, with bent head, -he forced his way through the crowd to escape from the garden. Once -clear of the lights and jeering faces, he strode rapidly to a remote -part of the extensive grounds that were all part of the Savoy premises. - -What should he do? He could not stay up in the woods and work as a -lumberman any longer. The men would make life unbearable for him—unless -he were to fight a few of them. - -“No, I cannot do that!” he moaned. “I cannot do that!” - -It was as he uttered this lament in an incoherent wail that was somehow -like the cry of a wounded animal, that a white figure came bounding -toward him among the trees. - -“Oh, Mr. Gordon!” she panted. “I had to come and thank you for taking -my part so nobly!” - -“Nobly?” he echoed bitterly. “Don’t you know that there was more of it -after that, and that I was anything but noble then?” - -“I know,” she answered. “And I think you were quite right. You’d done -enough.” - -“They call me a coward!” - -“What of that?” demanded the girl, her eyes sparkling in her anger as -she thought of the attack on Gordon. “You’re not a coward! You’ve given -too many proofs that you are just the reverse. Just because you would -not fight that big ruffian! Call you a coward! Why, I saw his head -towering far above yours. He is a giant!” - -Bob Gordon flushed. He knew that the girl’s excuse for him was well -meant. But it hardly soothed him or helped to restore his self-respect. - -“It wasn’t that,” he assured her hastily. “I was not afraid of him—not -of him! I wish you would believe that, Bessie, although I’m afraid no -one else ever will.” - -“What was it, then?” - -“Just this: I once—in a fight—killed a man!” - -She recoiled a little. It was an involuntary movement, but Gordon saw -it, and it caused him to continue quickly: - -“I never meant to do it, Heaven knows. But we’d quarreled, and it came -to a fight. I remember that. But I swear I do not recall striking a -blow hard enough to kill him. It was on the point of the jaw, and he -fell senseless. But he should have recovered in a few seconds. It was -not a deadly blow, ordinarily. We had both been drinking. That—that is -why I never touch liquor now, Bessie.” - -“Perhaps you didn’t kill him,” she whispered. “Perhaps he was not -really dead.” - -“Yes, he was. A doctor was in the room—a friend of mine. He examined -him, and pronounced him quite dead. Then I ran away.” - -“And that is all you know about it?” - -“I heard afterward that the coroner’s jury found a verdict of -‘Accidental death.’” - -“Then you have nothing to fear.” - -“My own conscience. And, if I were to go back home, there are persons -who know that I killed Richard Jarvis. My father is a wealthy, -influential man, and he may have hushed it up. But _I know_. So does -he.” - -“Haven’t you had any letters from your father, or anybody at your home, -since you left?” - -“No. It was two years ago that I left, and nobody knows where I am. -I have been up in the back country ever since, and I have changed my -name, too. I won’t tell you my real name. It would not do any good. -But you and I have been friends, and I don’t want you to think I’m a -coward. That’s why I’ve told you my story.” - -“I understand.” - -“I’m sure you do. When I knew that Richard Jarvis was dead, I made -a solemn vow never to fight again, no matter what might be the -circumstances. It has been a hard vow to keep, but I’ve done it -somehow. I never had to be called a coward on account of it until -to-night, however. That is why I’m going away.” - -“I should advise you to go home,” she murmured. “You say your father -is wealthy. I always felt sure that you were not the sort of man you -have allowed yourself to be regarded out here. You are not an ordinary -laborer. Your manners are those of a gentleman. That shows in so many -little ways.” - -“I’m a murderer!” - -“No, no. Don’t use such a word as that. It was not murder—if it -happened in a fair fight. Any of the men about here would say you had a -right to do it.” - -“That may be. But it would not be looked at in that way in my home near -New York. I am convinced that if I were to go back I should be arrested -and have to go through all the horrors of a trial for murder. The end -would be, very likely, the electric chair in Sing Sing. My blood turns -to water and my heart to ice when I think of such a possibility. I am a -coward about that. I am not afraid of death, I believe—of death itself. -But to die in that way! The shame of it!” - -He shuddered and covered his face with his hands. She touched him -gently on the arm. - -“Don’t, Mr. Gordon! You torment yourself needlessly. Take my advice -and go back home. I must leave you now. My father is going on to play -his violin solo. He does a trick act, you know—plays the violin in -all sorts of curious ways. Uses only one string, imitates cries of -animals and birds, and so on. He doesn’t like to do it, for he is an -accomplished musician, and he feels that he is degrading his art. But -the audience demands it, and he is such a master of his instrument that -he can do anything.” - -“Good-bye, Bessie. I am going away from this place. I hope I shall see -you again. You and your father travel about, and you’re quite likely to -come to some camp where I am. Good-bye! Remember me to your father, Mr. -Silvius.” - -Before the girl could reply, Bob Gordon—or Howard Milmarsh, which, of -course, was his real name—had dashed away into the darkness. - -Bessie Silvius made her way slowly to the back of the stage. - -It was not until the girl and Bob Gordon had both gone that a man came -out from behind a large bush where he had been crouching, listening -to the conversation. He was in evening dress, but his shirt front was -crumpled and bore stains from the bush, while his whole suit looked as -if it needed pressing. - -The man was none other than the monologuist who had been hailed by his -noisy admirers as “old Joe Stokes.” - -He had taken himself off when the row started, because he did not care -to be in a battle if it could be helped. Moreover, he had seen the girl -following Bob Gordon into the darkness, and he had curiosity to see -what there might be between them—if anything. Joe Stokes had a sort of -liking for Bessie Silvius himself. - -“Well, if this isn’t luck!” was Joe Stokes’ self-addressed remark, as -he found himself alone, and ventured to stand up and stretch. “I’ve -always had my suspicions about that Bob Gordon. He never seemed to me -to be like the other lumbermen. I’ve lived in cities too long, and -mixed too much with classy people, not to know a man who has been a -gentleman, no matter what kind of clothes he wears. And now this turns -out to be—I’ll get into the hotel. I’ll have to work quickly if I’m -going to make anything of all this.” - -It was easy for him to get to the hotel without being seen by the -audience in the garden. They were some distance away from the house, -and were at the back of it, besides. - -Joe Stokes went around to the front of the long, rambling frame -structure, and soon was in his own small bedroom on the third-story. - -Opening a shabby but strong trunk—it was the sort of iron-bound thing, -built to stand rough usage, which is known as a “theatrical trunk”—he -took out a newspaper. - -The paper was folded small, so that one particular paragraph was -turned outward. The paper was old and dirty, bearing marks of much -handling. It was not easy to make out the print, but Stokes had read it -before, and he managed to read it without trouble: - -“If this should meet the eye of H.M., late of Westchester and New York, -he is urgently requested to return home. His father is dead, and he is -the heir to the estate.” - -Joe Stokes sat on the side of his bed and considered: “‘H.M.’ means -‘Howard Milmarsh,’ of course. It must, for see how the description -fits him. And there is five thousand dollars reward for anybody -who finds the young man, or gives satisfactory proof of his death. -‘Communications should be sent to Johnson, Robertson & Judkins, -attorneys at law, Pine Street, New York,’” he read, from the -advertisement. “Good!” - -He considered for some minutes. Then he muttered slowly: - -“The worst of it is that I’m afraid to go to New York. If the police -were to know I was there, it would be the Tombs for mine, and a trip up -the river for a few years afterward. I’ll have to think this out.” - -He lighted an old pipe, with strong tobacco, and composed himself to -study out the problem of getting hold of the five thousand dollars -without giving the police a chance to get hold of himself. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - DOOR AND WINDOW. - - -While Joe Stokes sat in his room and studied, two other persons were in -conference in the room immediately below his own. - -They also wanted to find H.M., although their main purpose in coming -to this small lumber village and summer resort was to look for a man -wanted for a series of crimes in and about New York City. His name was -said to be Andrew Lampton, although, considering the number of aliases -he used, there was a strong possibility that it was not his real name. - -“Harold Milmarsh is here, Chick,” said one of the two persons, after -making sure the door of the double-bedded room was locked. “I did not -see him to-night about the hotel. But the landlord says he is probably -over at the garden looking at the show.” - -“Shall I go over and get him?” - -Nick Carter—for it was the celebrated detective who was sitting in the -room with his principal assistant—smiled at the impetuosity of Chick. - -“Not till I tell you, Chick. We must go cautiously about this thing, or -we may lose our man.” - -“I don’t see why. We are only taking him back to be a multimillionaire. -He doesn’t know his father’s dead, I guess, or he’d have been back -before without anybody coming after him.” - -“What is the name of this village—or town, or whatever it is?” asked -Nick, abruptly changing the subject. - -“Maple. There are forty or fifty places named ‘Maple’ in Canada. You -can safely bet on running into one every few hundred miles. It’s like -‘Newark’ in the United States. Did you ever think how many Newarks -there are about the country?” - -“Never mind about that, Chick,” was the rather impatient rejoinder. -“This place is called Maple. That is enough for me. My information -was that Lampton told somebody in Chicago that he might go to Maple. -It seems he heard that some girl he wanted was coming here. She is a -singer, and her father plays the violin.” - -“Didn’t you get their names?” - -Nick glanced at his assistant with a tired smile. - -“Their name is Silvius. The father is Roscoe Silvius, and his daughter -is known as Bessie. I suppose her full name is Elizabeth. But ‘Bessie’ -will do for our purpose. We’ll go down to the restaurant and see if -they will give us a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Then we can stroll -over to the garden, where the vaudeville show is. That was a long, -tiresome ride on the stage, and I dare say you are as hungry as I am.” - -“I don’t know just how hungry you are,” returned Chick. “But I know I -am about starved. I could eat the china handle off a door.” - -The two detectives had, in fact, been in the Savoy Hotel only half an -hour. They had arrived on the stage from the terminus of the little -railroad that ran out of Edmonton, in Alberta, in company with a -party of three tourists, and had passed as such themselves. There was -nothing distinctive about their appearance to tell the world what their -profession was. - -They had come direct to the room to which they had been assigned, and, -having had a wash and brush up, were ready for the meal that was always -furnished for the stage passengers in the evening. - -Nick Carter opened the door to go downstairs, but quickly stepped back. -He left the door open wide enough to enable him to peer through the -crack, and held up his hand to Chick to keep silent. - -For about two minutes Carter stood still looking out. The room behind -him was dark, and so was the hall. But there was light in the hallways -below, and it chanced to shine feebly on the face of a man who was -fumbling at a door lock about a dozen yards from where the detective -watched. - -“It’s our man, Chick,” whispered the chief. “He’s getting into that -room with a picklock. We are sure of him now, and I guess we’ll see -what he’s after in that room. We can take him back to New York to -answer to that counterfeiting charge, and the other things against -him. But I should like to know what game he has here.” - -“It was lucky that both Milmarsh and Lampton came to this place. We can -kill two birds with one stone. It isn’t often things break as well as -that.” - -“They didn’t ‘break’ particularly,” whispered back Nick. “I knew -Lampton would be likely to be here, and I had definite information -before we left New York that Howard Milmarsh was working as a lumberman -near Maple, in Alberta. It is all perfectly simple.” - -“It is a wonder you didn’t trust somebody else to gather these men in,” -remarked Chick. “You might have saved all this time for yourself if -you’d just let me come. I could have handled the case, I know.” - -Nick Carter did not answer this grumbling tirade. He did not seem even -to hear it. Now he darted out of the doorway into the dark hall, with -Chick close behind him, and tried the door, the lock of which Lampton -had been working on with his bit of strong wire. - -“We’ll have to break it open, Chick. Too bad! I was waiting for him to -get the door open. Then I intended to nail him before he could shut it -again. He was too quick for me. Lampton always was a slick individual. -He slipped through and banged it shut all in an instant. It has a -spring lock, you see, like our own—only with a different kind of key, -of course.” - -The detective was annoyed that he had allowed this rascal to keep him -back, even for an instant. He pushed with all his strength at the door, -resolved to break it in at all hazards. He could easily explain to the -landlord who he was afterward, and a dollar or two would repair the -damage. - -“Mighty strong door!” exclaimed Chick, as he hurled himself against it -by the side of his chief. “It ain’t going to give way in a hurry. But -we’ll have to smash it open if it takes all——” - -He broke off suddenly, for inside the room there arose the sound of two -men engaged in a fierce struggle. - -They could hear furniture falling over, and the scuffling of feet, -mingled with pantings, as if the contestants were in fierce grips, and -putting forth all their strength. - -“Listen,” said Chick. “That sounds like Lampton’s voice. I haven’t -heard it for three years, but I’d swear it’s he that’s growling to the -other fellow to stand back.” - -“Push the door!” returned Nick. “Never mind about talking. We can do -that afterward. I want to get into this room.” - -For a minute or two longer the racket continued. Then they heard the -sound of a window sash being wished up violently, followed by more -banging and scuffling. - -“Ah!” cried somebody inside. - -“That’s Milmarsh!” exclaimed Carter involuntarily. “It means that the -other fellow has got away. Down with this door!” - -The detective had considered, for a moment, the wisdom of rushing down -the stairs and out to the lawn, to pursue the person who had just -jumped through the window. But he decided that it would be hard to find -anybody in the darkness who had had so long a start, and he redoubled -his efforts to get the door open. - -“Shove, Chick!” - -“I am shoving!” - -“Harder!” - -“Gosh! I’m doing all I can!” protested Chick. - -The two moved back a few inches from the door, and flung themselves -back against it with all their weight. - -This time it yielded. With a smash, it fell into the room. -Unfortunately, the two detectives went with it, and it took them a -little time to get up and find out just where they were. - -Just as they fell into the room they heard a loud noise at the window, -and then the sash, which had been held up by one of the primitive -catches often employed in country places, broke loose and came down -with a slam, locking itself as it did so. - -Nick Carter, notwithstanding that he was in such a mix-up, realized -what had happened at the window. A man had just slipped through and -dropped to the lawn after the first one, and, in doing so, he had -disengaged the sash from the contrivance which held it up. - -What worried the detective more than anything else was that he realized -he had lost both the men he was after—the crook, as well as the heir to -the Milmarsh millions and the big steel-manufacturing plant. - -The catch of the window which held the sash down was out of order. That -is a common complaint with window locks of all kinds. It had become -jammed so that it was impossible to open it in the ordinary way. - -Nick took from his pocket the jackknife he always carried—an implement -which had a number of useful little tools in the handle. With this he -pried the window open and looked out. - -“See anything?” asked Chick. - -“No. I did not expect to do so, either. But we won’t give up the chase -just yet. They can’t get out of Maple easily. We’ll have them both -before morning.” - -“This is Howard Milmarsh’s room, isn’t it, do you think?” asked Chick. - -“No doubt about that,” was the chief’s quiet reply, as he lighted the -lamp he had found on a side table—luckily not upset in the struggle -which had taken place. “By Jove! That fellow was going through -Howard’s trunk. Look! See how everything is tumbled over!” - -“And a lot of letters scattered about. What are they?” - -Nick glanced through three of the letters hurriedly, one after another. - -“From lumbermen and miners, addressed to different places. Howard -has traveled about considerably in the past two years, poor fellow! -The significance of these letters is not in the letters themselves, -for they are not important. But the way they are tossed about shows -that Andrew Lampton knew there were some papers in this trunk worth -taking—or he believed there were. I don’t like Lampton being mixed up -in Milmarsh’s affairs at all—that is, unless we capture the blackguard. -Then it won’t matter.” - -“Well, we will capture him,” declared Chick, with sublime confidence in -the infallibility of his chief. “We’ll have them both long before we -are ready to go to bed.” - -But he was mistaken. They searched every part of the grounds of the -Savoy Hotel, and hunted all over Maple. But not a vestige could they -find either of Andrew Lampton or Howard Milmarsh! They had got clean -away! - -In the end, the chief and Chick had to leave Maple without their men. - -It was a mystery, but Nick only smiled when his assistant said that to -him. - -Solving mysteries of this kind—and even much harder ones—was the life -amusement of Nick Carter. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - TRACED BACK. - - -It was six weeks after the disappearance of Andrew Lampton and Howard -Milmarsh from Maple, following their jumping through the window, and -Nick Carter was again in his own home in New York. - -He sat in his usual place, at the back of the heavy table in his -library, looking through some papers. Facing him were Chick, with Patsy -Garvan, the latter in a rough and ragged disguise. - -Patsy had the ability to “make-up” for any age, from fifteen to seventy -or eighty. He had a youthful face, with a roguish, turned-up nose, and -bright eyes, so that it was easy for him to be a young boy. - -That was the character he had now, and he smiled cheerfully as his -chief gave him some instructions. - -“This man. Andrew Lampton—who is passing by the name of Joe Stokes, -according to my information—is the main worker in this counterfeiting -affair. Is that what you have heard, Patsy?” - -“I’ve heard somebody called ‘Joe’ in that house,” replied young Garvan. -“But I never saw the man himself.” - -“Well, that does not make any difference. After all, I don’t want -you to do anything more than be in the house, to let Chick in when -he comes. You are sure nobody followed you when you came away this -afternoon?” - -“I’ll bet on that,” replied Patsy. “I know Jersey City like a book, and -if there’s any one can shadow me in that burg without my finding it -out, I’d like to see him. I know twenty ways of gettin’ out of Jersey -City without no one knowing which way I went.” - -“The street is a quiet one, and it is rather away from Montgomery and -the other thoroughfares where a newsboy might be expected to be trying -to do business.” - -“A newsboy who wants to sell papers doesn’t stay on any particular -street,” replied Patsy. “He follows up his business, no matter where -it may lead him. That’s the kind of newsboy I am,” he added, with -a cheerful grin. “This Salisbury Street is long enough—and ugly -enough—for any kind of business.” - -“It is No. 25 Salisbury Street. That’s the address,” remarked Nick, -referring to a memorandum on his blotter. “All right! That will do. Get -over there and lie low. When Chick comes, be ready. And, above all, be -sure you’re not seen going in.” - -“Don’t worry. I’ll go in like a shadow under a door. I’ve been hiding -there for five days without anybody getting on. I am not going to fall -down now, just before the blow-off. Not much!” - -With this earnest assurance, Patsy nodded to Chick, waved his hand to -the chief, and slipped away. - -“It’s a good thing we have Patsy to help,” remarked Nick, when the door -had closed. “This man Lampton is a keen rascal, and if he had the least -suspicion we had traced him from Maple to New York, we should not get -him this time, I’m afraid.” - -“Perhaps we should not get him at all,” ventured Chick. - -“Yes, we should get him some time. You ought to know that. When we go -after a man as determinedly as we have for Andrew Lampton, his capture -is never more than a question of time—and perseverance.” - -“I hope that will be true about Howard Milmarsh.” - -“It will. Strange that we should have so much trouble to find a man -just to hand a fortune to him. But this is a world of strange things. -Anyhow, I promised his father to see that he got his rights, and I will -go through with that, just as steadily as I will keep after Andrew -Lampton till I have him.” - -“The secret-service men will help. That’s one thing.” - -“Yes, and I wish they weren’t in it. I’d rather do without the aid of -the secret-service and the police, too, if I could. But it can’t be -avoided. There’s one thing—the police over in Jersey City are a pretty -bright lot of men. But they’ve been looking for Lampton some time, and -they’ve never dropped on this crib of his yet.” - -“Which shows the smartness of Lampton and his gang.” - -“Well, criminals must be smart to some degree, or they never could pull -off any job. Lampton is a clever fellow, because he can do so many -widely different things. He is quite a good vaudeville performer, even -though his singing voice is gone.” - -“Ah, yes!” laughed Chick. “Joe Stokes! They seemed to think a great -deal of him at Maple. I won’t go till it gets dark to-night. I suppose -I may as well get ready, however. I’ve got to look like a decent kind -of hobo, haven’t I? The sort of man who is willing to work if he can -get a job?” - -“That’s right. You put it very neatly. But you need not do it just yet. -You are quite sure Lampton is still in that house?” - -“Quite. That is, unless he’s got out while Patsy was here to-day. Patsy -has been keeping as sharp an eye on the crib as any one could, and he -knew, before he came away to-day, that Lampton had gone to bed for a -few hours. You only want this one man, don’t you?” - -“Well, he is the most important. But I want to see the whole -gang caught. I have no mercy for a counterfeiter. It is a dirty, -contemptible business, because it generally makes people suffer who -cannot afford to lose money. The secret-service men will look after -them, however—when they learn where they are.” - -“Which will be thanks to Nick Carter.” - -“Not to me alone,” was Nick’s modest correction. “I have two able -assistants, and they have done as much of this work as I have.” - -“Strange the secret-service men did not find them,” remarked Chick. - -The detective laughed quietly, as he took a perfecto from his drawer -and clipped off the end. - -“It was,” he admitted. “They would have found it soon, no doubt. But -Lieutenant Brockton certainly opened his official eyes when I told him -you and Patsy had discovered the den. It’s a feather in the caps of -both of you.” - -“I should like to have seen him.” - -“Brockton wanted to make a raid right away. But I persuaded him to -wait,” went on Nick. “I know what these raids are. There’s a forcible -entry, generally with the breaking down of an iron-lined door, which -attracts the attention of the whole neighborhood. Then there’s a rush, -and, as likely as not, the very man you want most of all gets away. No -raid for mine.” - -The detective had his cigar alight by this time, and as he pulled at it -steadily, to make sure it would draw properly, he gathered up some of -his memoranda and stowed it away carefully in a secret recess under the -table. - -“It’s true enough that raids don’t always work out well,” agreed Chick -thoughtfully. “We lost Bill the Bum just that way. And he got away with -about twenty thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry, too.” - -“He was drowned in that wreck off Sandy Hook, though,” remarked Nick. -“So it didn’t do him much good. You remember that tramp steamer, the -_Lovely Maud_? It was in a collision with a tank steamer. The _Lovely -Maud_ went down like a stone, and Bill the Bum, with all his loot, went -down with her. Talking about raids, however, we may have to make one, -if our own plan doesn’t work out.” - -“It will work out!” was Chick’s positive assertion. - -“I hope so. Lieutenant Brockton and the chief of police in Jersey City -are willing to let me try, at all events.” - -“And the scheme is to decoy them out one by one, and pinch them in -detail? Isn’t that it?” - -“No. That would be too long and doubtful a process. I have promised -Brockton that you will let us quietly into the house.” - -Chick started. He had not worked out the matter along those lines. At -least, he had not put it into those words, and he was not sure that he -could do what was required. But he did not raise any objection. He knew -better than to do that when his chief laid out a program. - -“How am I to do it?” he asked calmly. - -“I don’t know. That’s your business,” was the cool reply. “I shouldn’t -wonder if you will find it rather difficult. But it’s your business, as -I have said—not mine. I’ve promised in your name that you will do it, -so, of course, you have to manage it somehow or other.” - -“Somehow or other?” murmured Chick inaudibly. “I wish I knew just how -it’s to be done.” - -“We shall be ready a little before midnight,” continued his chief. “I -shall expect a sign from you that everything is clear for us.” He took -out his watch and looked at it thoughtfully. “I guess you’d better get -into your hobo outfit. By that time it will be nearly dark, and you can -get over to Jersey. By the time you are walking off the ferry on the -other side of the river, it will be as black a night as you can want. -Get busy as soon as you are over there.” - -“I will.” - -“And keep it in mind that, when once things begin to move, they have -to keep on rapidly till we have nabbed our man.” - -Chick felt that he was being loaded with a heavy job. But it was -not his disposition to back down on anything. He had the fighting -disposition, and, besides, it pleased him that his chief had so much -confidence in him. - -“I’ll make it or bust!” he declared. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - IN THE OLD HOUSE. - - -Ten minutes’ skillful work in front of the mirror in his bedroom was -enough for Chick in which to transform himself into the character he -desired to assume. - -He put on a shabby sack coat, a pair of overalls, with holes in them -here and there, showing old trousers underneath, a cap that came far -over his eyes. Also, he wore shoes which were patched, but which had no -holes in them, and were more comfortable than they looked. Chick was -always particular to wear shoes in which he could move easily. - -He did not put anything on his face to change its appearance. It was -not necessary. The cap covered so much of his visage that it would not -be easy for anybody to recognize him at a casual glance. Around his -neck a dark-colored silk handkerchief did away with the need for a -collar and necktie. - -He took the subway to Jersey City. Then he walked swiftly toward his -destination, on the outskirts of the city. - -Salisbury Street is one of the darkest and most unfrequented -thoroughfares within sound of the trains on the Erie. There are -boarding houses and rooming houses in Salisbury Street, as on most -of the streets and avenues in that neighborhood. Tall, gloomy, -narrow-fronted houses abound—houses built long before the present -generation, when ornamentation was not so generally demanded in -residential architecture. - -Each of these edifices has a deep basement, far underground, a -vaultlike yard, reached by iron steps, and the whole surrounded by a -rusty iron fence, giving the place a general resemblance to a wild -beast’s den. - -Besides boarding and rooming, there are other businesses carried on -in Salisbury Street. A Chinese laundry occupies one basement, and a -cobbler another. Also, there are tinsmiths, plumbers, a delicatessen -store of uninviting aspect, and other commercial callings of a more or -less poverty-stricken look. - -At one time this part of Jersey City was a favorite residence quarter -for families who sought to be exclusive, and, therefore, fashionable. -But the street has fallen from its high estate, as so many like it have -done in New York. - -The house in which Chick was interested had a sign on the doorpost, -to the effect that it was an “Artistic Agency,” whatever that might -mean. There was nothing to explain it, except the sign, for most of -the windows, from top to bottom, were concealed by green-slatted -sun blinds. One or two, where the slats were broken away in places, -revealed dingy, yellowed window shades, pulled to the bottom of the -sash. - -It was a double house, with an alleyway down one side. The building -jammed against it on the other side looked as if it had not been -tenanted for years. - -Chick slipped down the steep, iron steps into the basement yard of the -empty house. It was not his first visit. That had been made several -days previously. - -Under the high flight of steps leading to the front door was a door, -hidden in gloom even in the daytime. Now, at night, it was absolutely -black. - -Through the keyhole of this door Chick blew two peculiar notes, -suggesting a cat courtship, only not so loud as one generally hears -during such meetings. - -Hardly had the last of the second note ceased when a bolt was -noiselessly drawn back on the other side, and the door opened a little -way. - -“How is it, Patsy?” whispered Chick. - -“That you, Chick?” - -“Of course. Still there?” - -“You mean the guy who——” - -“Hush!” interrupted Chick. “Never mind about details. We know who we -mean without mentioning names.” - -“I wasn’t goin’ to mention names, Chick. Jumping Christopher! Don’t -you think I know my biz? He’s here, all right. I made sure of that as -soon as I got back, and he couldn’t have got away unless he went up -a chimney or by aëroplane. You can bet he’s still stowed away in the -crib, like a worm in last year’s hickory nut.” - -“Well, you can take a walk around the block now, Patsy. There is no -reason why you should stay in this moldy hole while I’m investigating. -Go and get a breath of fog down by the river. There’s lots of it -to-night. But be back in half an hour, in case I hit on something -that I can’t handle altogether by myself. Besides, I may want you to -telephone the chief or something. Get me?” - -“Sure I get you, but I don’t like it,” protested Patsy Garvan. “Why -can’t I stay here and lend a hand?” - -“Because this part of the work can better be done by one than two. You -needn’t be afraid you won’t get your share of the fun. We are going to -have a hot time to-night, or I miss my guess.” - -“I’ll be here in less than half an hour—a great deal less,” were -Patsy’s last words, as he went soundlessly up the steps, in obedience -to the orders of his superior officer. “Guess I’ll do a little picket -work on my own account,” he added to himself, when he reached the -foggy gloom of the street. - -As soon as Chick was alone, he stood perfectly still for a few moments, -to get his bearings. - -First, he closed and bolted the door. Then he reached about in the -darkness of the narrow hall until he fumbled against the banister of a -flight of stairs leading to the upper part of the house. - -“I should like to have a light,” he muttered. “But it wouldn’t be safe. -I could snap on my pocket flash easily enough if I dared to do it. Ah! -Here’s a door open. This is the back parlor, looking over the yard. -Let’s see what chance there would be for the gang to get away if we -should decide to have a raid.” - -He found the window so grimed that he could not make anything through -it, although the light of a street electric lamp shone across several -of the yards, including that of the empty house into which he had made -his way. - -He rubbed one of the panes with the cuff of his coat, until he was able -to see through it in a fashion. - -The view he obtained—such as it was, through the foggy darkness, with -the pale illumination of the high arc light—comprised that of four or -five small back yards, each divided from the other by a fairly high -board fence. At the back was a higher fence, extending the whole length -of the street, so far as he could discern. On the other side of this -rear fence could be made out the black stems and branches of some -jagged old elms, whose vitality had been destroyed by the sulphurous -fumes from the railroad and adjacent factories long ago. - -“Hello!” he exclaimed in a low, threatening tone, as he took a small -blackjack from his coat pocket. “Who’s that? What are you snooping -about here for? Want to bring the cops down on us?” - -To his astonishment, the response of the person he knew was in the room -came in the shape of a chuckle of decided amusement. This was followed -by the well-known tones of Patsy Garvan, in a whisper: - -“It’s all right, Chick. This is Patsy!” - -“It is?” exclaimed Chick, angry, but careful not to speak aloud. “And -what the blazes are you doing here? I told you to take a walk.” - -“I know you did, and I’ve taken it. You didn’t say how far I was to -walk, and I don’t care for that kind of exercise, anyway. Why, Chick,” -he added, in more serious accents, “I _couldn’t_ stay out there while -you were nosin’ about in here, liable to get a crack on your bean at -any moment. I just _couldn’t_. I s’pose you’re mad, but I had to do it.” - -“Come here!” - -Patsy shuffled over to the other side of the room, where Chick’s voice -sounded. He did not know what he was going to get, but he expected it -would be a harsh rebuke. Instead, Chick felt for his hand and gave it a -hearty squeeze, as he whispered: - -“Patsy, you’re the limit. But, as you’re here, keep quiet, and do what -I tell you.” - -“I’ll do anything you tell me, unless you say I’m to get out,” replied -Patsy. “That’s where I’m liable to disobey orders, if it gets me a -licking.” - -“Stay here on guard,” returned Chick quickly. “I’m going to see whether -those fellows in there suspect we are around.” - -“I’d bet a pumpkin to a peanut they don’t,” rejoined Patsy confidently. - -Without replying Chick opened a closet in a corner of the room, near -the window, and through which shone enough of the glow of the street -lamp to show him where it was. - -Going inside, after a final warning to Patsy to keep his eyes open, -he closed the door, to exclude even the faint, murky glimmer from the -window, and felt against the wall at the back. - -He had been told so clearly what he would find there, that he had his -fingers on a certain wad of paper on the wall almost at once. - -This wad of paper was stuffed into a very small hole in the wall—which, -between the two houses, was only lath and plaster on the outside, with -the thickness of a single brick between, before it again became lath -and plaster in the other house. - -To make the peephole properly, Patsy had selected a spot where the -bricks joined, with rotting mortar between them. The house was very -old, and mortar wears out in the course of years. He had used a long -file, as well as a knife, and had cut a hole between the brick and -the plastering on the other side, which, while small, was still large -enough to suit the purpose of Chick. - -“By Jupiter!” was Chick’s breathless ejaculation, as he obtained a good -focus on the interior of the other room. “Here’s evidence—all we want!” - -It was an interesting scene at which he gazed now. A workmen’s bench -was before him, with a powerful lamp, shaded, so that it threw a very -strong light upon the workbench. - -Two men were seated at it, working on polished plates of copper that -Chick recognized at a glance as intended for the printing of bank -notes. The workmen were so absorbed in their work, that even if he had -made a slight noise—which he didn’t—when he pulled out the plug of -crumpled paper, they would not have heard it. - -These two busy engravers were not the only persons in the room. There -were other men in plain view of Chick. - -One was sorting and examining a large pile of bank -notes—counterfeits—holding each one against the light, and scrutinizing -it narrowly, before he would pronounce it “safe.” - -The fourth man—a burly fellow, who must have weighed more than two -hundred pounds—was working a roller press at the farther side of the -room. Chick could not see the denomination of the bills, of course, but -he heard the big man growl that “these centuries don’t look as good as -some we’ve done.” - -“Hundred-dollar bills, eh?” muttered Chick. “The scoundrels!” - -These four were all industriously working. If their occupation had -been legitimate, he might have admired them for the way they kept -everlastingly at it. - -But there was another person, making the fifth, in the place, who did -not show even the doubtful virtue of exerting himself like the others. -He was the personification of laziness and worthlessness, for he was -lolling in a rickety rocking-chair, and yawning as if he were too tired -to live. - -Chick found himself wondering why some of the others did not lift him -out of the rocker and bestow a good, swift kick where it would do the -most good. - -He was not at all a bad-looking fellow. His features were clean cut -and rather aristocratic, and he seemed to be intelligent, so far as -Chick could judge. His clothes were of a fashionable cut, and he wore -them as if used to expensive raiment. Certainly, there was nothing of -the laborer. It would have been difficult to imagine him laboring at -anything—except, perhaps, scheming. - -“There you are, Mr. T. Burton Potter,” remarked Chick, apostrophizing -the elegant idler. “I guess you’re not likely to do it, either, now -that we have got thus far on the case.” - -He pushed the wad of paper back into the peephole, and let himself out -of the closet to the room where Patsy was still on guard. - -“Seen anybody, Patsy?” - -“Not a soul. Have you?” - -Chick chuckled softly, as he laid a hand on Patsy to keep him quiet. - -“I’ve seen several persons, Patsy. Among them is the man the chief is -so anxious to take, T. Burton Potter.” - -“I wonder why the chief is so bent on getting him,” remarked Patsy as, -with Chick, they tiptoed to the door of the parlor, and stood for a -moment in the dark hall. - -“He has a good reason, you may be sure of that.” - -“I don’t doubt it, but it puzzles me, all the same. This Potter is only -the ‘shover’ for the gang. He can put over phony money easier than any -of the others, because he has the front. But that doesn’t explain why -the chief should think he is of so much more importance than any of the -others. It looks as if there must be something behind it that we don’t -know.” - -“What do you mean?” - -Patsy snorted defiantly. - -“The chief wants T. Burton Potter for other reasons than because he is -passing fake bills. That’s what I think. And I believe down in your -heart you think so, too.” - -“Well, if I do, I have sense enough to keep quiet about it,” was -Chick’s rejoinder. “And you’d better do the same. When Nick Carter is -working out a case on his own plan and in accordance with theories of -his own, it isn’t for us, his assistants, to interfere with him. When -he is ready to spring his trap, we shall know what his real purpose is. -One thing we do know, and that is that we are to make sure the trap -holds T. Burton Potter when it is sprung.” - -“Well, we’ll do that, all right,” returned Patsy confidently. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - - THROUGH THE CELLARS. - - -“We’ll go to the basement, Patsy. There are some points I want to clear -up before going any further with this case. Keep close behind me, now -that you insist on being here, and don’t do anything unless I tell you.” - -“All right!” - -“I mean what I say,” whispered Chick, more sternly. “I don’t quite like -the way you said ‘all right.’ It seemed to me you were treating my -orders rather lightly.” - -“No, I wasn’t,” denied Patsy in a hurt tone. “I always do as I’m told, -don’t I? And when you’re in charge of a case, I regard you as the -chief’s representative, and I take as much notice of what you say as if -you were Nick Carter himself.” - -“These two houses are exactly alike, from what I can see,” mused Chick -aloud, as they slowly descended to the basement again. “What do you -know about it, Patsy?” - -“I’d bet on it,” was the curt response. - -“That’s what I think. We’ll go lower this time.” - -“In the cellar?” - -“Yes. The cellar stairs are under these, and the door is not locked. Be -careful you don’t stumble.” - -“I’ll look out,” returned Patsy. “I don’t want to break my neck by -going down headfirst.” - -“It isn’t that. But you might make a noise that would attract -attention—that’s all.” - -Patsy shrugged his shoulders at this remark. But it was too dark for -Chick to see the gesture. Nor did he hear the whispered observation of -his companion. - -“What does my neck matter, so long as we don’t spoil the case? That is -a businesslike way to look at it, anyhow.” - -Once in the spacious cellar, with the door above closed, Chick -announced that it would be safe to use a light. - -“Bring out your electric flash, Patsy, and I’ll use mine. That’s right. -We’ll take a general observation down here. There are three or four -cellars opening out of each other. We’ll go over into that one next to -the other house.” - -Many empty bottles and some wooden boxes that had held bottles of beer -were scattered about. - -“Help me pile some boxes over in this corner against the wall, Patsy. I -want to stand on them.” - -The work was soon done. Then Chick told Patsy to turn out his light and -stand still, keeping his ears open the while. - -The roof of the cellar was formed by the floor above, and the heavy -joists, crossing from side to side, rested upon its walls. This left -spaces between each pair of joists at the top of the wall. - -“If I’m not entirely mistaken,” thought Chick, “I’ll be able to see -something through those spaces.” - -Standing on top of the piled-up wooden cases, he peered through the -opening. All was blackness on the other side, and he decided that it -would be safe to use his electric flash. - -The white glow of his flash showed him that there was another cellar on -the opposite side of the wall, very much like the one which Patsy and -he were in. - -“I’ve got to get through there, Patsy,” he announced, as he came down -to the floor. “But it’s going to be tough. I couldn’t squeeze through -that hole, nor come anywhere near it.” - -“What are you goin’ to do, then?” - -“Make it larger. I came prepared for something of this kind. I have a -few tools belonging to ‘Fisher the Engineer,’ who is rusticating at -Sing Sing or Auburn at the present time. He was an expert burglar, and -he had the neatest outfit of tools I ever saw. The police gave them to -the chief, at his request, and I have some of them in my pocket.” - -Chick produced a three-jointed crowbar of fine steel, and then brought -out a shorter one, in two pieces, which he fitted together and handed -to Patsy. - -“Pull out those bricks at the top, Patsy. We’ll tackle one at a time -simultaneously, and our combined strength, with the leverage we shall -get with these ‘jimmies,’ ought to make it easy.” - -Chick’s prediction was sound. It took ten minutes of hard, rather dirty -work. But the young men had tackled hard work before in the course of -their profession, and it did not trouble them. - -When, at last, they had bricks enough out to make room for Chick to get -through, they chuckled softly in unison. - -“I’ll go first, Patsy. If I can make it, there is sure to be room -enough for you. Here goes!” - -From the top of the boxes Chick crawled through, feet first. He had to -go that way, or he would have tumbled in on his head, which would have -been uncomfortable, and, perhaps, dangerous. - -“All right, Patsy!” he called softly, when he had disappeared through -the hole. “Now you come. Don’t be afraid. I’ll catch you as you come -in. It will be easier for you than it was for me.” - -“Ah! What are you givin’ us, Chick?” rejoined Patsy disgustedly. “Am I -ever scared at anything?” - -Patsy Garvan had a right to say this, for a more fearless young -American it would be hard to find in a day’s march. He did not realize, -at the moment, that Chick was only “kidding” him. - -Chick eased him to the floor and chuckled. - -“What are you laughing about, Chick?” - -“At you.” - -“Why, what have I done that’s funny?” demanded Patsy. - -“Getting mad because I told you not to be afraid.” - -“Well, how would you like to have anybody hand a thing like that to -you? If a strange guy passed me such a crack, I’d push in his face,” -grunted the disgusted Patsy. - -“I don’t blame you,” laughed Chick. “And I know that is just what you -would do. But I was only joking. You ought to have known that. Give me -your hand.” - -Patsy Garvan laughed softly, and, turning on his electric flash, so -that he could see what they were doing, he gave his hand to Chick, and -they shook with the heartiness of comrades who knew they always could -depend on each other, no matter what happened. - -“What’s the move now, Chick?” - -“We have to get a little closer to the gang. This is going to be the -_real_ part of the work.” - -“A scrap?” whispered Patsy hopefully. - -“Shouldn’t wonder.” - -“Good! Fists—or guns?” - -“No guns!” replied Chick quickly. “We don’t want noise. Use your fists -if it comes to a show-down. Or any weapon you can get hold of that -doesn’t make a racket? Get me?” - -Patsy only chuckled. It was not necessary for him to say in words that -he understood. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - - INVESTIGATION. - - -Hastening up a flight of steps that were a replica of the steps in the -cellar of the empty house, Chick found that the door at the top was -securely fastened. - -“Just what I expected,” he muttered. “But I guess I can get it open. -There’s only a wooden button on the other side. I might break the door -right through, but it would make too much noise. My knife will fix it.” - -One of the blades of his jackknife was long and thin. He thrust this -between the door and the jamb, and pushed the button out of the way. - -“Ridiculously easy!” he said to himself. Then, to Patsy: “We have to -get at the outer doors, you know—the one into the kitchen regions, as -well as the other on the main floor. The worst of it is that they are -on the other side of the house. We’ll have to make our way there. Or, -rather, I shall.” - -“What about me?” asked Patsy. - -“Stay where you are, in the dark. It will be better to have you ready -in case I need help, than to let you get into the muss with me. Don’t -you see that?” - -“I s’pose you’re right,” grumbled Patsy. “But I don’t like this waitin’ -game. Maybe I won’t get into it at all. Things are always breakin’ -wrong for me. Just when I’m all primed up for a rough-house, I’m put on -guard duty, like a boy at a henroost. Holy Perkins! It’s tough!” - -Chick did not stop to argue with his companion. It was clear that if -Nick Carter and three or four policemen were to get into the house, -they could not take the time to dribble through the opening in the -cellar wall by which Chick and Patsy had made their way from one cellar -to the other. - -When they came up the steps from the cellar, they were on the basement -floor, level with the bottom of the courtyard in front of the house, -and below what was known as the parlor floor, with its main hall -leading to the principal door to the street, at the top of the stone -steps outside. - -Passing along the stone-floored hallway, after making sure that Patsy -was out of sight at the door by which they had come up from the cellar, -Chick found a door closed, but under which could be seen a line of -dusky red light. - -He realized that he was coming near to the heart of the mystery he and -Nick had set out to solve. - -Feeling for the latch, he discovered, with a thrill of satisfaction, -that it was not fastened. He lifted it without difficulty and also -absolutely without sound. Then he took a peep through the crack he had -made when he pushed the door a little way open. - -At first, he hesitated to open the door even wide enough to permit him -to peep in. He remembered the five men he had seen in the other room on -the floor above, and it would not have surprised him to find as many -working down here in the cellar. - -But the room was empty, although evidence that somebody was close at -hand was not wanting. - -It was a large apartment, that looked in a general way like a kitchen. -Only, there was no kitchen range, nor pots, pans, or dishes—at least, -no utensils such as are generally employed in an ordinary dwelling -house in the culinary quarters. - -A large pine table was the only piece of furniture. There was not even -a chair to be seen. - -On the table was an electric battery, an iron ladle, a few tools, and -some slabs of white plaster of oblong form. - -Over the table glimmered a gas jet turned too low to yield any light. -The red glow that Chick had seen under the door came from a large, -square stove of peculiar make, which stood out a little way from the -wall opposite the door by which he had entered. - -“That stove was never made for honest use,” thought Chick. “You could -not even cook an egg on that thing. And I’m betting with myself that -I know just what that stove is doing in this place. It’s cooking new -money, or I’m a long way off in my guess.” - -There were two other doors in the room. One of them, he judged, led -into the house, while the other probably connected with the stone -hallway ending at the outer door to the front yard. - -“I hear boiling metal hissing on that stove,” he muttered. “The work is -going on, all right. Why, yes! I see the crucible sunk into the stove. -I _knew_ that stove was built for only one kind of use.” - -He went over to the door he believed led to the other part of the -house, and found it locked, but the key in the door. - -“That’s lucky! I didn’t want to have to stop to break it open. Besides, -it would have made a big noise, and I don’t know how many men may be -close by.” - -Once outside the door, which he closed softly as soon as he was -through, he switched on his electric light. What he found was what he -had expected. In one direction were the stairs leading upward to the -“parlor floor,” and in the other was the outer door to the front yard. -Farther along the wall he saw the door into the room he had just left, -so that it was possible to get to the yard by both exits. - -“Now for the yard door,” he said to himself inaudibly. “It’s locked, no -doubt.” - -He was right about this. The door—a very heavy one, evidently built to -resist possible attack—was locked, and there was a heavy, rusty bolt -pushed into a massive socket. - -Chick could have picked the lock and withdrawn the bolt. That would not -have been a long or difficult operation. But he had had experiences of -this kind before. Therefore, he took another course. - -“That rusty bolt would screech like a jackass in agony,” he murmured. -“I could never get it out of the socket without proclaiming to the -whole street what I was doing. I’ll take the liberty of using some -others of the ‘Engineer’s’ tools. I’m glad he is in the den, or he -might be doing something with them, instead of my making honest use of -them.” - -Chick grinned at his own conceit, as he took out a mechanical, -automatic screw driver from the canvas bag in which he kept the -implements, each in its own little pocket. With this screw driver he -rapidly took out the screws that held the massive socket of the bolt. -Then he removed the ponderous box of the lock in the same way. - -Chick was a good mechanic. He would not have suited Nick Carter -otherwise. So he did his work not only swiftly, but noiselessly, and in -a workmanlike manner. A regular locksmith could not have done it better. - -“I’ll have to get back to Patsy, and send him out to telephone,” he -said to himself, when he was satisfied that the outer door to the yard -was not held by anything save the swelling wood, which kept it jammed -against the doorpost, but not too firmly to be dislodged with one good -push. “Let’s see! The chief told me just as I was coming out that he -would be at police headquarters in Jersey City. I wonder whether I’d -better telephone, or whether it wouldn’t be safer to let Patsy go -there.” - -He might have asked this of Patsy, only that he preferred to make up -his mind from circumstances, rather than on the advice of anybody—even -so shrewd a young fellow as Patsy Garvan. - -When he had made his way back across the room where the metal still -simmered on the funny-looking stove, and was at the door where he had -left Patsy, he had determined on what should be done. - -“Patsy!” - -“That’s me!” - -“Anything happened?” - -“Not a thing. As peaceful as West Point on a summer afternoon.” - -“Well, get out and see the chief.” - -“_See_ him? I thought I was to telephone.” - -“I thought so, too, until I had time to think it over.” - -“New York?” - -“_No!_” growled Chick irritably. “And don’t pretend to be a bonehead, -Patsy, because I know better. I’m talking about the Jersey City -headquarters. Get to the chief, and tell him he can come right in by -the door in the yard at the front of the house. Understand?” - -“When you say ‘chief,’ you don’t mean the chief of police of Jersey -City, do you?” - -Patsy did not wait for a reply. He just flung this question at Chick -to make him mad. Then he hustled away to deliver his message to Nick -Carter, who was always _the_ chief to himself and Chick. - -Patsy had to squeeze through the hole in the cellar wall, but that was -easy. - -“When I get time, I’ll take Patsy to Central Park and dump him -headfirst into the lake at a Hundred and Tenth Street,” muttered Chick. -“He’s aching for excitement, and he needs cooling off.” - -Chick decided that it might take twenty minutes for Patsy to reach -headquarters and bring Nick and the police back. In the meantime, he -might as well rest a little. - -First he went into the back parlor and took another look through the -peephole in the closet at the workmen in the other room. There was no -change in the scene. The engravers and others were still busy, while T. -Burton Potter continued to loll in the rocker, as if he had not a care -in the world. - -“A change will come o’er the spirit of his dream before he goes to -bed,” was Chick’s inward remark, with a slow smile. “He may as well be -as comfortable as he can while the wind blows his way. Lord! He is a -lazy-looking loafer! Well, I’ll get to the other house, through that -infernal cellar hole.” - -In spite of the fact that there would be an exciting time for Chick -in the course of half an hour or so—or, perhaps, because of it—he -was quite able to compose himself for a nap without allowing future -business to worry him. - -He went up the stairs to a back room, where Patsy Garvan had rigged -up a sort of couch for himself while on watch in the house the night -before. It was composed of an empty box and some burlap. Anybody who -happened to be fastidious might have found it unsatisfactory. But it -suited Chick. He was glad to have anything big enough for him to lie -down on. - -“There’s one thing about this profession of ours,” he soliloquized, -“that you don’t find in every kind of work. That is, its variety, as -well as its excitement. A fellow never gets dull or lonesome. If he -did, I don’t think he would be any good as a detective.” - -Chick looked at the dirty windows, through which glimmered the faintest -reflection from the street arc light already referred to, and was -wondering, in a dreamy sort of way, how many feet it would be from the -window to the ground, in case it should become advisable or necessary -for him to jump out, when he sprang to his feet abruptly, and relieved -himself of the two words, “Blithering idiot!” - -As no one was in the room but himself, it might have been a matter of -speculation as to whom he referred, if he had not proceeded rapidly to -make it clear. - -“I am an ass—with long ears! I left that door open—the one leading from -the kitchen to the stone hall and front yard door. I know I did. It -was shut and locked, with the key in the door. Why in thunder didn’t I -lock it when I came through? I guess I must have been in too much of a -hurry. If any one goes into that room and sees the door, the beans will -all be spilled, that’s sure.” - -The detective knew it would not be long before somebody would be in -the kitchen, to look at the crucible. The door would be found open—and -then—— Well, he did not stop to think about what would probably happen -in that case. He hustled out of the room and down the stairs. - -It was quite a trip back to the kitchen. He had to go to the -sub-basement, to the cellar, and squeeze through the hole where the -bricks had been taken out. Then he would have to climb stairs and make -his way through doors, and at every step he might meet from one to six -men, who would kill him with as little compunction as they would smash -a mosquito. - -“Fine prospect!” muttered Chick. “But—it’s all in the game!” - -He gained the kitchen without interference. The molten metal still -simmered on the stove. Everything was just as he had seen it on his -previous visit. Best of all, nobody was in the place. The person, -whoever he might be in charge of the metal, was still attending to -matters elsewhere. - -“The confounded door over there is still open,” continued Chick to -himself. “Just as I left it. Well, I’ll soon fix that.” - -He hastened across the room, closed and locked the door, leaving the -key in the door, as before. - -“Don’t know how I came to do that! It isn’t like me to forget a door -when I’m in a place full of crooks. I shouldn’t like the chief to know -I’d done it. He’d think I’m going dippy. Well, it’s all right now. -That’s a great comfort.” - -He was halfway across the room to the door by which he had entered, -when the latch clicked, and he saw it jump up, indicating that somebody -was pressing it down on the other side. - -“Trapped!” muttered Chick. “Cut off, by Jupiter! Now what am I to do?” - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - THE RAID. - - -Chick was thinking at electric speed as he hesitated for a second in -the middle of the floor. - -He was in a bad fix, and he knew it. Only, it was not his habit to cry -over spilled milk. What he wanted to do was to hit on some method of -meeting the crisis. - -If he could have got down to the front yard of the house he was in, he -would have done that. But there was no time for him to unlock and open -the door he had just secured. He would be caught before he could pass -through. - -Even if there were any possibility of his escaping from the room in -that way, the stranger, who was already opening the other door, would -see that it was still open, for Chick certainly would not have time to -close it. - -This may seem a great deal for Chick to think in the instant required -for a person to open a door after pushing down the latch. But a whole -lifetime has been reviewed in a fraction of a minute, and Chick’s brain -was working like a dynamo in this moment of deadly danger. - -He must do something, and quickly. He did. - -At the very moment that the door opened, he sprang to the stove and -crouched down between it and the wall. He had noticed, from the first, -that a space of a few feet had been left there, so that the heat of the -stove would not set fire to the wall. - -This was the one possible place of concealment in the gaunt, bare room, -and it was not much of a one, at that. And it was hot—cruelly hot! - -Squeezing himself into as small a space as he could, he peeped -cautiously around the edge of the stove from the deep shadow that -helped to conceal him. - -“Holy mackerel!” he muttered. “This is a bright prospect. That man -looks as if he were here for all night!” - -It was the gigantic fellow he had seen working at the roller press in -the room overhead. He seemed to have no fear of anybody being present -besides himself, as he crossed the room to the table, and turned up the -gas. - -“What’s he going to do?” thought Chick. “Just as I supposed. He’s -settling down for a long stay. And I’m roasting at the back of this -stove. Great Scott! I feel as if I were done to a turn already. He’ll -get the smell of me cooking before long. I can smell myself.” - -The big man had taken up one of the plaster molds and was trimming it -off with a knife. He worked as composedly as anybody might who was -following a perfectly legitimate trade. - -“Whew!” burst from Chick’s lips. - -It was only an expression of pain and discomfort, and it was not loud; -this was fortunate, for the big man started as if he believed he heard -something, but was not quite sure. - -He stared about the room for a moment, during which period Chick -huddled back into the heat of the recess behind the stove and prepared -himself for a fight, but seemed satisfied that he had not heard -anything except in his fancy. - -“All kinds of funny noises can be heard in the night in an old house -like this,” he remarked aloud, as he resumed his work. “I’ll be glad -when this night’s work is over, all the same. I’m pretty nearly all in.” - -“So am I,” thought Chick. “I don’t believe I can stand this another -half minute. I’m almost touching the hot stove, and the heat is -something fierce. I hope the chief will understand that I’ve had a -tough time of it. A fellow likes to get credit for an experience like -this.” - -His clothing began to scorch, the flesh of his face and hands felt -seared, in spite of all his efforts to protect them, and in addition -to this torture, was the sickening effect of the poisonous fumes which -were given off at every crevice of the stove. - -“I’m about all in,” murmured Chick, as he tried to find a position a -little farther away from the stove, without betraying himself. “I can -begin to understand how people have felt who were burned at the stake. -Hello! Here comes that big lummox to put on more heat.” - -Indeed, the big man was approaching, but it was apparent that he had no -suspicion of anybody else being in the room. He whistled softly as he -came forward. - -After tending the fire—for which Chick inwardly cursed him—he stirred -the pot of metal with a steel rod. By this time Chick was compelled to -crouch closer to the awful stove, to keep out of view of the big man. - -“Good thing there is a black shadow back here,” thought Chick. “But for -that he must have seen me.” - -The fellow went back to his table and resumed work there. His manner -was that of one who had a long night’s work ahead of him, and Chick had -difficulty in repressing a loud groan. - -“If the chief and the police would come!” he prayed. “That’s about my -only hope!” - -He listened eagerly to catch the slightest sound from the hall leading -to the stairs to the cellar. If he could have heard anything, he would -have felt pretty sure that the raiding party had arrived. - -Suddenly he believed he could make out the shuffling of feet in the -hall. He was not sure, but he thought the sound of feet, as well as of -men whispering, came to him. - -“If this big man at the table hears it, too, then there will be a -circus. I’ll take a wallop at him myself, so long as I know I have -friends to see that I get a square deal.” - -Chick did not want any more than an equal chance. In fact, he was -willing to give some odds. But he did not think he was called upon to -give cards and spades, big and little casino, and everything else, to -the enemy. - -But it seemed now as if he must take a big, sporting chance. - -Just as he was gathering the little strength he had left, to make a -desperate attempt to overcome the giant at the table, he was sure he -had heard a noise in the hall. There was no mistake about it now. Not -only in the hall, but upstairs! - -The man at the table glanced upward, with a quick start of alarm. From -his throat came a low, angry oath. - -“The cops!” he added savagely. - -Clutching the long knife he had been using for trimming the plaster -molds, he dashed to the door by which he had entered and hurled himself -out of the room. - -“Well, I’m glad they’ve come!” gasped Chick. “It may be too late to do -me any good, but they’ll get even for me if I have to pass it up. By -Grimshaw, I believe I’m dying!” - -Things were reeling around him, and it was only by coming in contact -for an instant with a corner of the hot stove that he was saved from -swooning. He did not realize it at the time, but doubtless that was the -way the sudden sting acted. - -Crawling out from behind the furnace, he staggered to the door. He -wanted to be in the mix-up, if only he could contrive to keep on his -feet. - -“I won’t follow that fellow,” was his half-conscious, inward resolve. -“But I’ll take it the other way—if only I can get the door open before -I drop. This room is full of sulphur, and it seems to be getting -thicker.” - -This was not really the case, but Chick had inhaled so much of the -deadly vapor that he felt as if he could not stand any more, and each -moment it had a worse effect upon him. - -Fortunately, he contrived to unlock the door, and lurched into the -hallway beyond. - -The stairs to the cellar were before him. Avoiding them, he made his -way toward where fresh air was streaming in at the open yard door. - -“Air!” he panted. - -As he reached the doorway, he uttered an ejaculation of relief—and -found himself in the grip of a pair of powerful arms. He had been -seized by one of the policemen. - -“All right, Bob!” shouted the officer, giving Chick a shake as -involuntarily he attempted to pull away. “I have one of them!” - -“Let go, you dub!” gasped Chick. “Don’t you know who I am?” - -“Sure I do. But I don’t want the story of your life. Tell that to the -captain when I get you to the station.” - -He felt a row of knuckles grinding into the back of his neck. Under -ordinary conditions, when he was himself, Chick could have made some -sort of fight. Probably he would have done so, even though he knew it -was useless to oppose a good policeman in the performance of his duty. - -As it was, however, being sick and faint, and having hardly any -strength, he suddenly collapsed, like an empty sack, in the hands of -the blue-coated captor. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - - NICK SPRINGS A SURPRISE. - - -During all this excitement, Patsy was trying to find out where Chick -was. - -Patsy had found Nick and Lieutenant Brockton, in charge of the squad -that was to take part in the raid, sitting in the captain’s room, -smoking and wondering how long it would be before Chick would give them -the signal. - -They had expected it by telephone—that having been the orders to -Chick—and the lieutenant hardly ever took his eyes off the instrument -on the desk before him. - -When Patsy came bounding in, after a brief explanation to the sergeant -behind the desk, Nick was glad his young assistant had taken this -course. It enabled Nick, as well as the lieutenant, to get a better -idea of the situation than if they had had it over a wire. Besides, -this way made it certain there could not be any “leak.” - -Lieutenant Brockton did not quite like putting himself and the -policemen told off to him under the orders of Nick Carter. But -the detective would not consent to any other arrangement, and the -lieutenant was obliged to comply. He could not afford to antagonize -Carter, who seemed to have a knowledge of everything in the underworld, -although he never boasted of it. - -As they hurried to the house on foot—for Nick would not allow the use -of a patrol wagon, which would have attracted general attention—Patsy -gave the detective a very good idea of the general plan of the house. - -“It’s just a few little things that ought to make it easier to put one -over on the gang,” he explained. “You can’t know too much about a house -when you are going to get in suddenlike,” he added, with his usual -good-humored grin. - -“You’re quite right, Patsy,” agreed Nick. “And, as you say, the point -we have to look out for particularly is at the back. They might go -scooting over the back fence and get away by the other street.” - -Lieutenant Brockton stationed a couple of his youngest and most agile -men in the back yard. They were down the alley at the side, and climbed -over the side fence. - -A third man was placed in the alley, to remain there, and two more went -into the front yard, below the level of the street. It was one of these -two who afterward distinguished himself by capturing Chick. - -The remaining three men, with the lieutenant and Nick Carter, went into -the house, going in by the front yard door, which Chick had carefully -left unfastened, as has been described. - -Carter was in the lead. He pushed open the door in the yard without -difficulty, and swiftly mounted to the floor above, where the artists -in rascality were at work. - -They found the room at once. It was the only one which showed a light -under the door. Listening intently, they made out voices and the click -of tools inside. - -“Now,” whispered Nick to the men behind him. “Follow close when I open -the door. Don’t give them time to rally from their first surprise! Get -all that?” - -“We have it,” grunted the lieutenant. “Drive on, Carter!” - -The detective turned the handle without any sound, and flung the door -wide open. - -“Drop everything!” he commanded, in sharp, metallic tones. - -He had stepped into the room as coolly as if he lived there. The -lieutenant and his men were on his heels, and they were prepared to -subdue any of the operators who might show signs of resistance. - -For a moment there was nothing of the kind. The surprise was complete. -The advent of the detective and his men had been like a thunderbolt -dropped into this hive of misdirected industry. - -The two men still at work on the polished plates at the bench leaped up -as if their chairs had suddenly become red-hot. The fellow who had been -examining and passing upon the spurious bills sprang into the middle -of the room. With the movement, he scattered thousands of dollars’ -worth of phony money, like leaves in a wintry gale. At the same time he -grunted a fierce but futile oath. - -“Don’t make any fuss, gentlemen!” begged Nick blandly. “You are all -prisoners! Lieutenant, you and your men attend to these parties. I have -something else to look after.” - -“All right, Carter.” Then, to the prisoners, the lieutenant went on: -“The house is covered, back and front. Don’t try to make a get-away. If -you do, some of you will get hurt, as sure as you’re here!” - -“Here! Quit that!” shouted Nick. “Look out, lieutenant!” - -The detective had seen one of the raided counterfeiters reaching for -an iron bar under the bench, and he gave instant warning. None of the -others had noticed the movement, but the detective had sharp eyes and -sharp wits. He was not to be fooled by any such attempt as this. - -Without waiting for the lieutenant or his men to take action, Nick -sprang upon the rascal even as he shouted. By the time Brockton and his -men had hurled themselves into the fracas, Nick had taken away the bar -of iron, and the man who had wielded it was lying on his back. - -But Nick did not give much time to this little incident. He disposed -of it as a matter of course, and, having seen that the man was in the -hands of two of the policemen, he turned to the rocker in which the -elegant T. Burton Potter still slumbered as sweetly as if he had been -in a comfortable bed in a silent room. He seemed to have heard nothing -of the noise of the raid. - -“This will end a puzzling case,” muttered the detective, as he pushed -his way through the struggling men—for all of the bench workers were at -grips with the police by this time. “Who would have expected this? If I -can only get to him before he wakes, why I can——” - -But Nick was not to have so much luck. The man who called himself T. -Burton Potter was a very wide-awake young man, indeed, when once he -_was_ awake. At a glance he saw what had occurred. He knew there was a -police raid, and he did not want to stay and see how it would come out. -He preferred to find his way out himself. - -“Deuce take him!” muttered Nick. “He always was as quick as a cat! -If he’d only stand still for a second, he’d save me a great deal of -trouble—and himself, too.” - -But T. Burton Potter did not see it that way. Leaping from his chair, -he swung it around, so that it would be right in the detective’s way, -and pushed in between the bench and press. - -Nick was not foiled by the chair, however. Agile as a panther, -he placed one hand lightly on the back of the chair, and vaulted -completely over it, at the same moment stretching forth a hand to seize -Potter. - -But Potter had vaulted over the table and was through the doorway -before the detective could get him, notwithstanding that he leaped over -the table just the splinter of a second behind the man he wanted to -capture. - -But the rascal’s luck was with him. He reached the top of a long flight -of stairs to the basement, and went down them in a huddled heap, part -of the time on his feet, and the rest of it rolling down like a ball. - -Again Carter was so close to him that he almost had him, when a big -man, with a knife in his hand, rushed up from the bottom, and came -right between them. - -It was the man Chick had seen trimming off the plaster molds in the old -kitchen, while the metal boiled on the stove that had so nearly been -the death of Carter’s principal assistant. - -“Look out, Davis! The cops!” bellowed T. Burton Potter. “It’s a raid! -Hand him one! Croak him!” - -The big man, whose name, it seemed, was Davis, made a lunge at Nick -with his long, dirty knife. - -The detective was too quick for him, however. Dodging the knife stroke, -he feinted with his right fist, and then sent his left straight into -Davis’ face, between the eyes. - -The blow was a magnificent one from a boxer’s point of view. Not only -did it send Davis down the few stairs up which he had come, but it -drove him six or eight feet along the hall. - -It was not altogether satisfactory to Nick, however. He had to dispose -of the big man, of course. But, in the meantime, T. Burton Potter was -getting away. - -Flying up the stairs, three at a time, the elegant-appearing crook ran -into the first room he came to, which looked over the back yard. - -Skipping to the window, he unlatched the sash and threw it wide open. -He intended to drop out to the back yard. But just as he was ready to -do so, he saw two officers waiting to receive him, and he ran back into -the room. - -“Euchred that way!” he muttered. “But I don’t know. There are others. -They haven’t landed me yet.” - -By this time Nick was at the doorway. He was just in time to see -Potter’s head and shoulders in outline against the dim light of the -window, and made a spring to make him prisoner. - -There was a derisive chuckle, and Potter slithered around the dark -walls of the room. The next moment, as Nick advanced to the center of -the chamber, Potter had slipped out of the door. - -“Confound the fellow! I almost had him!” exclaimed Nick, in a low tone, -and half inclined to laugh at the slipperiness of the fellow. “He’s -gone! Well, I’ll have to begin all over again. If he knew what I wanted -him for, perhaps it would be different. But I can’t tell him till I’ve -had a chance to talk to him and make a few notes for comparison.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - - NICK CARTER’S QUIET HAND. - - -What Nick meant by the last words he had uttered, no doubt he could -have told. As no one heard them, and he was talking to himself, anyhow, -presumably it was nobody else’s business what he meant. - -That there was something behind the detective’s willingness to take -part in such a raid as this, both Chick and Patsy were sure, but -neither knew just what it was. There were some things that the chief -did not tell even to his most trusted employees. - -That there had been a development in the room raided which had -disturbed for the moment even the steady poise of the great detective, -none knew but himself. - -In T. Burton Potter he had recognized one of the men he most wanted to -get hold of just now. The other was Andrew Lampton, but he felt that -he could let the hunt for Lampton go for the present, until he had his -hands on the elegant Potter. - -What was Potter doing while Nick laughed at the cleverness of his -escape from the room? Well, he was trying to achieve a get-away under -extremely difficult circumstances. - -Once clear of the room where he had managed to give the detective the -slip, he made a half turn toward the downward flight of stairs. But -another officer showed himself at the bottom. So he swung around and -dashed up the stairs to the floor above. - -In the darkness, Nick was not sure whether his man had gone up or down. -This involved another loss of a few moments. But his keen ear soon told -him where Potter was, and up the stairs he went after his man. - -T. Burton Potter heard his pursuer, and he did not dodge into any more -rooms. Instead, he continued up the stairs, flight after flight, with -one last, desperate hope in his heart—just one! That was that he might -escape by way of the roof. - -He had one advantage over Nick, in that he knew the house well, while -this was the first visit of the detective. - -Aided by this fact, and by the darkness, with many twists and turns -at landings and on the stairs themselves, T. Burton Potter was in the -garret at about thirty seconds ahead of Nick. - -He lost half that gain in unbolting a trapdoor and forcing it open, so -that he could crawl through to the roof. It was a serious loss to him, -for the detective almost had him by the legs as he clambered through. -Before he could slam down the trap door, Nick was out on the roof after -him. - -It is not an uncommon thing for detectives and uniformed police -officers to chase crooks over roofs. Some thrilling experiences of this -kind could be related by a great many policemen, but each story of the -pursuit of some desperado over the roofs of skyscrapers has features of -its own that make it stand out from all others. - -It was so in this case. - -The detective took a hasty survey, and saw that, while the roofs ran -along over the two houses, that was as far as they did go. Every two -houses were separated from the next two by the width of a narrow alley -like that in which policemen were waiting below to catch any of the -fugitives from the raid. - -“Come back! Don’t be a fool!” shouted Nick. - -The man he was after had dashed along the roof, and now was standing -on the low parapet which protected the roof on the side where it was -divided from the next house by the alley. - -T. Burton Potter glanced back for an instant. He could make out the -form of the detective dimly in the darkness. Then, without reply, he -put all his strength into a tremendous leap, and went off the parapet! - -“Great heavens!” exclaimed Nick. “He couldn’t jump that. At least, I -don’t see how he could. It is not less than nine feet, and he hadn’t -any run to help him.” - -So sure was the detective that Potter could not have jumped the gap -that he hurried down the stairs to the parlor floor, where he met -Brockton. - -“Got them all, Brockton?” - -“All except Lampton and that fellow you were after. I mean, the dude -who was sleeping in the chair. Where is he?” - -“Jumped off the roof. He’s in the alley at the side of the house. Send -some of your men to look. He tried to leap from one roof to the next. -That was craziness. He couldn’t do it, of course. And he took such a -risk for the sake of avoiding a term in prison. Why, it’s sixty feet. -There can’t be anything left of him.” - -But not a vestige of Potter could they find, and Nick could believe -only that he had really made the seeming impossible leap. - -When the prisoners had been safely conveyed to the police station, -to be dealt with in due course by the government officers, Nick went -around there himself, to make his report of what had taken place under -his supervision. - -That was merely a dry, official proceeding, and Nick, wearied of -the whole business, and more disgusted than he would have cared to -acknowledge over the way T. Burton Potter had escaped him, was about -to go out of the station to the taxi he had ordered, when Brockton -remarked casually: - -“We have one prisoner who has a queer story to tell. He says he is your -assistant?” - -“What?” shouted Nick. - -“He’s a young fellow. We didn’t see him in the room with the others. -But he’s one of the gang. He was trying to slip out of the door into -the front when one of my men grabbed him.” - -“Where is he?” - -Nick interrupted the narration curtly, and a black frown gathered over -his keen eyes and brought his heavy brows together. - -“In a cell, of course.” - -“Did he tell you his name?” - -“Why, yes. That was more of it. He had the nerve to say his name was -Chick Carter, your assistant!” - -“Good heavens! And you’ve arrested a man against whom you have no case, -even when he told you he was my assistant, and that his name was Chick -Carter. Didn’t you think it worth while to make any inquiries?” - -“No. We——” - -“Didn’t it occur to anybody in this police station that he might be -telling the truth?” - -“Why, no, Mr. Carter,” answered the lieutenant at the desk. “We put the -name he gave us on the blotter. We always do that, even when we know it -isn’t the real name. We have so many arrests where men say their name -is something entirely different from the one they give. We have no -time to make inquiries into that sort of thing.” - -“Let me see this prisoner—this man Chick Carter!” demanded Nick. - -The lieutenant called out to the doorman to bring Chick up from below. - -There was silence until the door opened. Nick was frowning, and every -officer in the big station looked worried. They began to feel that -there had been a mistake somewhere. - -“Here he is, lieutenant!” - -It was the uniformed officer in charge of the cells who spoke, and he -held by the elbow no less a person than Chick. - -“Hello, chief!” he cried, as he saw his employer. “Can’t you get me out -of this?” - -But he was already free. No sooner had the officer holding him seen the -look of recognition on the detective’s face than he released his hold -of the prisoner’s elbow. - -“What’s this mean, Chick?” asked his chief. - -“Search me!” laughed Chick. “One of the men grabbed me because he found -me in the house, just coming out of the yard door, to take a hand in -the raid with you.” - -“The officer said he was drunk!” growled Lieutenant Brockton rather -defiantly. “I suppose there must have been some reason for his making -that statement.” - -“I reckon there was,” conceded Chick. “I had been baked behind a stove -where they were making silver dollars and halves, and what with the -heat and the fumes of charcoal and hot metal, I was nearly a goner. -Then I had a scrap with the officer, and——” - -“If you’d been in such a place as that, behind a stove, it probably -made you dizzy, didn’t it, Chick?” - -It was Nick who asked the question, and, as he did so, he looked -scornfully at Lieutenant Brockton. - -“Well, what do you think, chief?” was Chick’s response. “I don’t mind -saying that if I seemed a drunk, I don’t blame the officer. I dare say, -if I had been in his place, I should have made the same mistake.” - -“I’m sure you would,” threw in the lieutenant. “When you came in, you -looked as if you had one of the worst souses that ever came into this -station. But I am very sorry the mistake occurred.” - -“So am I,” declared Chick, grinning, but with tremendous earnestness at -the same time. - -“I’ll scratch your name off the blotter,” went on the lieutenant. - -“Thanks!” returned Chick dryly. “What was the charge against me? -‘Drunk, resisting an officer, and suspicious character,’ I suppose?” - -“You’ve hit it exactly,” was the reply of the lieutenant. “But it will -all be obliterated. I hope there are no hard feelings.” - -“None on my part, now that I am out,” declared Chick. - -To prove it, he shook hands all around, including Lieutenant Brockton -and the desk lieutenant and doorkeeper. Then he went out to the taxi -with his chief. - -“I’m sorry all this happened, chief,” said Chick contritely, as the cab -got under way. “But the officers wouldn’t listen to a word from me. -They threatened to dust me with their clubs if I didn’t shut up. So, of -course, I had to shut up.” - -“The wisest thing to do under the circumstances,” answered Nick in an -absent tone. “We will stay in the taxi even on the ferryboat, unless -you feel that you must get out for the fresh air of the river.” - -“I’ll do what you do, chief,” returned Chick. “How did the raid come -out? You look worried. Was anything wrong about it?” - -“Yes. Very much wrong.” - -“How?” - -“We did not capture Andrew Lampton, for one thing, and we missed T. -Burton Potter, for another.” - -“Who’s T. Burton Potter?” asked Chick, puzzled. “He’s a new one on me.” - -“He is not a new one to me, although to-night was the first time I’ve -seen him—by that name.” - -“You’ve got me going, chief,” confessed Chick. “I’m blessed if I know -what you are talking about.” - -“I’m talking about T. Burton Potter. He is dressed in a way that I -never saw Howard Milmarsh. But if Potter is not Howard, then I’m afraid -I shall find it hard to believe my own eyes hereafter.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - - WITH THE TIDE. - - -The look of amazement on the face of Chick, as he heard this -extraordinary statement, as he considered it, compelled Nick to laugh -aloud, bothered as he was just then. - -There was no light in the cab, but they happened to be passing a -lighted restaurant at that moment, and Nick had a good view of his -companion’s face. - -“What’s that, chief?” gasped Chick. “Won’t you say it again?” - -“I will if you like. I say, that T. Burton Potter is so much like the -heir to the Milmarsh millions, that I cannot think they are not the -same person.” - -“But—but—this Potter is a crook!” protested Chick. - -“That is what makes the case so difficult to handle,” replied Nick. “If -Potter were an honest, reputable member of society, I should not have -to proceed so carefully. As it is——” - -He did not finish the sentence. He felt that it was not necessary. He -leaned back in the taxi, and not another word was spoken by either -until the cab had been run upon the ferryboat. Then the chief remarked -that the smell of horses was rather strong, and that they might as -well go to the front of the boat to get the night air on the wide river. - -They got out of the cab, Nick telling the taxi driver they would get in -again before the ferryboat tied up in her slip, and walked to the front -of the deck on the men’s side, where Nick could continue to smoke his -cigar without breaking rules. - -Having looked about him, to make sure there were no eavesdroppers, he -explained to his assistant how it was this case interested him so much. - -“You know, Chick, that when we left Maple, and after we had pretty well -combed out all the camps in that part of the country, to make sure -neither Andrew Lampton nor Howard Milmarsh were in any of them, we came -to the conclusion that they must have made their way East.” - -“It was you came to the conclusion—not I,” corrected Chick. “I did not -decide anything.” - -“Well, that’s of no consequence. Anyhow, it turned out that I was -right, for Andrew Lampton was traced by the police to New York, where -he then disappeared, and I believe I saw Howard Milmarsh to-night in -the person of T. Burton Potter.” - -“That’s a hard thing to get through my head,” confessed Chick. - -“I don’t wonder. But I had a good view of Potter, and every lineament -was that of Howard Milmarsh. His hair was the same color, the -expression of the eyes was the same, and there was a certain poise -to his head that I had never seen except in Howard. I did not hear -his voice, but no doubt that would only have confirmed my belief that -he was the son of my old friend, Howard Milmarsh the elder, whose -business, estate, and millions of dollars are seeking their rightful -heir.” - -“There is somebody else after the estate, isn’t there?” - -“Yes. That is why I do not feel at liberty to waste time over this -case,” replied the chief gravely. “If we do not find Howard Milmarsh, -then Thomas Jarvis, the father of Richard Jarvis—the man Howard -believes he killed—will probably claim everything. He is the heir at -law if Howard cannot be found.” - -“Isn’t there anybody else besides that fellow?” - -“No. He is the only member of the family known to be living. I -understand he will put in a claim—although he is related to the -Milmarshes only by marriage, and has no blood connection. I have never -seen this Thomas Jarvis. But I _know_ something about him.” - -“Well, we don’t have to think about him, chief, do we, if you are sure -this man Potter is Howard Milmarsh? And even if he were not the man, we -saw Howard in Maple—or at least, you did—and he is still on earth in -some shape or other.” - -The ferryboat had been skimming across the North River in the darkness, -and was rapidly approaching the Manhattan line of shore, with the -masses of twinkling lights in the many skyscrapers, and the occasional -sound of bells, whistles, and other signals warning craft to be careful -as they approached the wharves. - -“There’s the green and red lights of our slip not far ahead,” remarked -Chick. “But we don’t have to get back to the taxi till we are right in. -Are we going right home?” - -“Yes. I want to refer to some memoranda I have there, and I can -telephone more conveniently from my own library than anywhere else. -We’ll go home and——” - -Nick broke off suddenly and ran to the middle of the wagonway on the -boat. - -For an instant he seemed inclined to leap over the gates, so that he -could see better whatever it was that had caught his eye, and which had -made him oblivious of all else? - -“What is it?” - -Chick was by the detective’s side, and both were staring at the dark -river in front of them, but somewhat to starboard. - -What they saw was startling enough to warrant the interest of Nick -Carter—a man who seldom allowed himself to become excited, or he would -have been so now. - -A rowboat—a yawl—was moving swiftly toward the Manhattan shore, -propelled by two men, and helped along considerably by the outgoing -tide. - -The tide caught them in such a way that, while it forced them -downstream to some degree, also took them across the river, and soon -would put the boat among the tangle of piles supporting some of the big -wharves below the ferry slip. - -The two men were T. Burton Potter and—Patsy Garvan. - -“Thunder and lightning!” burst out from Chick. “How did Patsy get him? -Say, chief, he’s beaten both of us!” - -“All the better!” responded Nick. “I don’t care who gets Potter so long -as we have him at last.” - -“What are we to do now?” - -“Trust to Patsy,” was the chief’s reply. “What else can we do?” - -Chick nodded. As the chief had said, what else could they do? - -“We couldn’t jump off this boat, Chick. And if we did, it would not -help us at all. Patsy is sure to have some plan in his mind. It isn’t -likely Potter knows who is in the boat with him, and I think we can -depend on the shrewdness of Patsy.” - -“I believe that, too,” mumbled Chick. “But I envy him his luck. I wish -I were in that boat, instead of him.” - -“Don’t be jealous,” laughed the detective. “You should be above that. -Patsy deserves all he has, for he must have exercised judgment to -have brought about what we see—the fellow we want so badly. T. Burton -Potter, sitting there and rowing himself straight into the arms of the -police.” - -“I hope that will happen,” responded Chick. “The boat is out of sight -now, for we are in the slip. We may as well get into our taxi. But I -certainly have had beastly luck this night.” - -“You’ve had plenty of experience, at least, Chick,” laughed his -employer. - -It did not take long for the taxi to run up to the detective’s home. In -less than half an hour from the time they saw Patsy in the yawl with -Potter, Carter was in his usual seat behind his big table, reading a -short telephone message which had come about an hour before, and which -the butler, who knew a great deal of the detective’s business, had -taken and left for him, in the shape of a written note, on his table. - -The note read, in the words that had come over the wire: - -“This is Patsy. Have man. More later. Just coming over from Jersey City -to New York.” - -Nick read the memorandum two or three times, considering as he did so. -Then a slight smile broke over his thoughtful countenance, as he looked -at Chick and murmured: - -“Patsy must have got to a telephone just before he entered the boat -with Potter.” - -“But how the dickens did he get into a boat with Potter?” asked Chick, -in a puzzled tone. - -“My theory is that Patsy traced Potter down to the river in some way, -saw that he wanted a boat to get across without having to take the -ferry, and quickly took advantage of the situation.” - -“Patsy is smart enough to do that,” admitted Chick. - -“Of course he is. He knows everybody along the river front. It wouldn’t -be much of a feat for him to get possession of a yawl and pretend to -Potter that he was the owner.” - -“By George! That’s what it looks like!” - -“It does. But we don’t know till we hear from Patsy.” - -“There doesn’t seem to be any way to get hold of Patsy. I suppose we -shall have to wait,” remarked Chick. “We ought to be doing something -in the meantime, I should think. What do you intend to do until Patsy -comes or lets us know?” - -“Well, I think our best proceeding would be to have the butler bring us -up a sandwich or two and some good coffee. If you’re not hungry, I am,” -replied the chief, with a smile. - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - - TRACKED! - - -It may be interesting to know just how T. Burton Potter did escape from -the roof when he made that desperate leap in the darkness across the -width of the alley. - -Almost any athlete would not think much of clearing nine or ten feet -between marks on the ground, with everything favorable for the feat. -Such performances are done at most athletic meets without causing -surprise or any other particular emotion. - -But, sixty feet up in the air, with the certainty that any slip would -mean crashing down on hard stones, a heap of mangled nothingness, it -was a different thing. - -If T. Burton Potter had stopped to think for a second, he might have -hesitated. It would have been no reflection on his courage if he had. -But he had no time to think, and over he went. - -For a few seconds after landing safely on the other roof, he lay down -behind the parapet. He had two reasons for this. One was to recover -his breath, and the other was to keep out of sight of his pursuers. - -“Unless he jumps after me, I’ve got him buffaloed,” whispered Potter -to himself, with a dry chuckle. “I wouldn’t do it again for a million. -What would be the use of fifty millions, even, to a dead man? Now, how -am I to get out of this?” - -Keeping under cover of the parapet, he crawled around to the rear of -the roof. There was no parapet here—only an iron gutter. The gutter ran -along to the end of the roof and emptied into an iron pipe which went -straight down to the ground. At least, Potter supposed it did. He could -not see in the darkness. - -“I’ve got to take another chance,” he muttered. “And it looks worse -than the other, when I jumped. I don’t like it, but what can I do? I -don’t intend to be caught. I believe even a week in a prison would kill -me, unless it drove me insane.” - -Lying flat upon the roof, he gripped the pipe firmly. Then, gingerly, -he lowered himself over the edge of the roof and pinched the pipe -between his knees. - -With a double hold on it, hands and knees, he began to inch downward! - -“If this pipe should fetch loose, I’m a goner! I hope it will hold. But -it seems awfully shaky.” - -The pipe creaked from time to time, and more than once he heard the -rusty spikes which held it to the wall in the rotting mortar grating, -as if they were about to pull out. - -But the thing held somehow, and in about ten minutes he was safely on -the ground, uttering a prayer of thankfulness for his luck—for he was -not what could be called a pious man. - -He had made up his mind which way he would go if he reached the ground, -and that was over the back fence. Blessed with uncommon agility, as -well as hardened muscles, he swarmed over the high fence without much -difficulty. Then, after sitting astride for a moment or two, he dropped -on the other side. - -It was fortunate for him that all the police had withdrawn. They had -concluded, when the raid was over, that there would not be any men -trying to get away in the rear. If they thought anything about T. -Burton Potter, they had decided that he was clear away. - -The other side of the high fence only brought him into another back -yard, and he saw that the houses were as high as those on Salisbury -Street. - -“If there’s a side alley and gate, I can make it easily,” he murmured. -“Durn my luck, there isn’t!” he added a moment later, after a hasty -survey. “The house is the full width of the yard.” - -There were high, wooden fences on both sides. But he did not see that -climbing over them, one after another, was likely to help him. Sooner -or later he would run into somebody in one of the yards. Then he would -have to explain why he was there, and he _might_ have to tell his story -to the chief of police. - -“I won’t take any risk of meeting that gentleman, or any of his men, if -it can be helped.” - -T. Burton Potter came to this decision very quickly, and with much -earnestness. For reasons of his own, he did not care to be brought into -contact with blue coats and brass buttons on that night of all others. - -“It will be daylight in course of time,” he reflected. “Then I should -_have_ to find my way out. I wonder if I can’t get through this house. -It’s the only chance I have!” - -He stole up to the back door. It was locked and bolted, of course. - -“Didn’t suppose there would be any chance that way,” he muttered. “But -there’s a little window, belonging to a pantry, I guess. By Jove! It’s -open, I see. That’s to let air into the place, for the benefit of the -milk or butter or something.” - -The window was too high for Mr. Potter to reach, but, as has been -remarked several times, he was an athlete, and as active as a monkey. -With a short, swift run, he managed to leap up and catch the sill with -his fingers. - -It was not easy to pull himself up, and, if he had not been in good -physical training, he never could have accomplished the feat. As it -was, he was up and peering through the open window in a few seconds. - -To lower himself inside was the work of another ten or fifteen moments. -The door of the pantry—for a pantry it was—had not been fastened, and -he was in the lower hall, making for the stairs, while a slower man -might have been trying to work his way through the window opening. - -Up the kitchen stairs and into the main hall he rushed. There were some -complicated bolts and locks on the front door, and it took him some -time to overcome them. What was worse, he could not do it without noise. - -Potter had a vision of a man in pajamas suddenly appearing at the top -of the stairs on the second flight, with a lamp in one hand and a -pistol in the other. - -“Who’s that?” squeaked the man, evidently frightened out of his senses. -“Hands up, or I’ll fire!” - -But T. Burton Potter had the door open by this time. - -“Fire and be blowed!” - -He yelled this back defiantly as he rushed out and slammed the door -behind him. - -“I’m glad the fool didn’t fire, all the same,” muttered Potter. “It -would have made racket enough to bring the policeman on post, anyhow, -and I don’t want to see any of those gentry until I’ve had time to -compose myself. Whew! I wish I were in good old New York.” - -He walked leisurely along when he had turned the corner, for he knew -that a running man, or even one walking swiftly, might be questioned -by the first policeman he met. - -“I don’t see anybody about. Just as well. I’ll get down to the -ferryhouse and slip across. I hope there won’t be any one around there -who knows me. You never know where the police will put a man.” - -T. Burton Potter was a slick individual, and he had the faculty of -seeing all around him without appearing to stare. But, smart as he was, -he did not perceive a man who had seen him come out of the house where -the person in pajamas had threatened to shoot, and who was following -him as closely as possible without being discovered. - -“Gee! What luck! I knew he’d try to get through some of these houses if -he made a get-away,” muttered this individual. - -It may be hardly necessary to remark that the individual was none other -than Patsy Garvan. It was, indeed, Nick Carter’s assistant. - -He called it “luck” that he was on the trail of Potter when no one else -was. But it was really shrewdness, reënforced by patience. - -Patsy had figured out that when the raid came, the men would scatter -in all directions if they could. The police would try to prevent this, -of course. But some of the gang were liable to slip through their net, -and it was Patsy’s opinion that, if any of them escaped, the slick T. -Burton Potter would be one of them. - -While the chief and Chick were in the Northwest, Patsy had been on -another case, and had brought it to a successful issue. What this case -was does not matter. But it is interesting to know that, as he followed -it up, he got, just before the return of his chief and Chick, a side -glance at T. Burton Potter. He had had his own suspicions that the -rascal was mixed up in this counterfeiting affair. - -Potter walked swiftly toward the river, but before he reached the -ferryhouse he resolved that it would be too risky for him to cross the -water that way, and he plunged into a district with which he was fairly -well familiar, down among the wharves, to see if he could hire a boat -without making anybody suspicious. - -Nick had been quite right in his belief that Patsy had managed to -pass himself off as the owner of the yawl in which he and Potter were -rowing. That was exactly what he had done. - -As they neared the place on the Manhattan side where Patsy had decided -to land, Potter paid him the dollar he demanded for rowing him across, -and darted out of sight while Patsy was putting the money in his pocket. - -Patsy grinned, as he leaped upon the wharf right on the heels of his -late passenger, and, after hiding behind some freight till Potter -walked away, followed him until he had reached the street. - -Then followed a chase through the tortuous streets of lower New York, -until T. Burton Potter rushed up a stairway to the elevated road at -South Ferry. Patsy was not far behind him—so near, in fact, that he -contrived to be on the same Sixth Avenue train that carried Potter -uptown to Eighth Street. - -At this station Potter got off, and Patsy, who had been in the next -car, also dropped off and hid himself in the shadows until Potter went -down the stairs. - -In less than half an hour Patsy rapped at the door of Nick Carter’s -library and walked in, cool and collected, to find his chief busy with -some papers at his big table, and alone. - -Nick looked up calmly. - -“I was expecting you, Patsy,” he said. - -“I came as soon as I could,” was Patsy’s response. - -“Where’s your man?” - -“My man?” - -“T. Burton Potter.” - -Patsy could not help showing surprise in his look and tone, and Nick -regarded him imperturbably. - -“How did you know, chief?” - -“That doesn’t matter. Where is he?” - -“I’ll take you to him if you like. But you’ll have to break into a -house.” - -“Very well. We’ll break in,” answered Nick, as if the act of burglary -were a matter of everyday experience. “Tell Chick. I’ve sent him to his -room to lie down for a while. He’ll have a very short rest, from the -look of things.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - - A SECRET OFFER. - - -The house to which Patsy tracked T. Burton Potter was one of those -old-fashioned residences of the kind in which the wealthy and exclusive -members of New York’s society lived half a century ago, and which -are plentiful in some of those quiet streets in the neighborhood of -Washington Square. - -There are gardens in front of some of them, just as there were fifty -years ago, and at the back there are still other gardens, with flower -beds and trees, in which people who have their homes in these pleasant -localities stroll about on summer evenings. - -Many of the houses are now devoted to boarders and lodgers, but a few -are, to this day, occupied by private families who can afford the -luxury of a whole house. - -It was into a private house that T. Burton Potter injected himself by -way of the kitchen door under the high stone steps leading to the main -entrance above. He had a key to this door. - -“Hello!” he whispered to himself. “Things look different. By Jove! -Suppose I don’t find Lampton here! He is the only one of the crowd that -would know me. Well, I can explain. But what have they changed things -for? It is only three weeks since I was here before.” - -Cautiously, he went out of the kitchen in which he had first found -himself, and up the stairs to the main hall. - -At every step he realized that there had been changes since his last -visit. The carpet was not the same, and when he got to the hall, where -a dim gas jet burned, he saw that the hall rack was one he never had -seen before, and that there were pictures on the walls which were -strange to him. - -He turned into a room which had been used as a sort of sitting room by -the assemblage of shady characters who had made this house a sort of -private clubhouse when he had known it before, although it passed to -outsiders as the home of two wealthy families. - -“Why, this room is altogether different,” muttered Potter. “There is -a handsome sideboard over there, and I see silver enough to tempt -anybody. I’ll bet the gang has moved out, and that somebody else has -moved in. Now, what is this all about?” - -Puzzled, he went into the front room, which was separated only by -portières, and found that it was a luxuriously furnished apartment, -with a piano and many pictures on the walls, which he was connoisseur -enough to know were valuable. - -He went out to the hall in a state of bewilderment and somewhat -frightened, too—for he knew he was in a house in which the police might -say he had no right to be. Why hadn’t they changed the lock on the -lower door? Then he couldn’t have let himself in, and he might have -been saved all this. - -He would get out as quickly as he could. This was the only safe move -for him! - -He stole along the hall, intending to make his exit by the door which -had admitted him, when, suddenly he perceived his own shadow on the -wall. - -You can’t have a shadow without a light, and involuntarily Potter -looked up the stairs. - -What he saw was a great deal like what had scared him in the house -in Jersey City. A man, with a lamp in one hand and a revolver in the -other, was coming down the stairs! - -There were points of difference between this man and the one in Jersey -City, however. This man was dressed in a well-fitting business suit, -and he did not look at all frightened. The hand that held the revolver -was ominously steady. - -“Ha!” growled the man with the revolver. - -T. Burton Potter did not say anything. It seemed to him that there was -nothing to be said. - -The man who had said “Ha!” had a hard face, as well as hard voice. The -eyes that were transfixing T. Burton Potter were fierce and sparkling. -Potter thought they looked like the heads of polished steel rivets. -Under the heavy, iron-gray brows, they were enough to take the nerve -out of even as daring a man as Potter really was. - -“Don’t reach for a gun,” continued the man on the stairs. “This one in -my hand has a mighty easy trigger, and I may remind you that I have you -covered.” - -“I haven’t got a gun!” grumbled Potter. “If I had, I’m sensible enough -to know when I’m beaten. What I want to say——” - -“Don’t say it,” ordered the other. “And don’t try to get away down -those kitchen stairs. Throw up your hands and step into that room at -the side—the dining room. Then I’ll telephone for the police.” - -“What for? I haven’t done anything. If you’ll let me explain——” - -But again the man with the gun shut him off, as he came down to the -hall, making Potter precede him into the dining room. - -“Go through this room into that other room at the back. I use it for a -library.” - -Potter obeyed. He knew the room well enough. It had been used for -card playing when the house was occupied by its former tenants. It -overlooked the back garden, and had always been a favorite lounge of -his when he had had time to loaf a little. - -With his hands up in the air, and looking very much like a cornered -desperado in the moving pictures, Potter took his stand against the -opposite wall, as his captor commanded, and waited for what might come. - -The man took up a telephone from the heavy table in the middle of -the room, at the same time switching on a bunch of electric lights -depending from the ceiling, and which illuminated the room brilliantly. -As he did so, he looked into Potter’s face and started violently. - -“Good heavens! Howard Milmarsh!” he blurted out, putting the telephone -down, but keeping the revolver in a firm grip. “What does this mean? -Why have you come here? You know me, don’t you? I was head waiter at -the Old Pike Inn, and I was there the night you—you——” - -“What are you handing me?” demanded T. Burton Potter, his surprise -getting the better of his fear. “I don’t know anybody named Howard -Milmarsh. My name is Potter, and I used to live here.” - -“Live here? Why did you live here? Why did you hide yourself when you -could have a fortune by asking for it—by just showing yourself?” - -“I know all about these fortunes!” returned Potter. “I seem to remember -you as a waiter at the Old Pike Inn, however.” - -“Head waiter!” corrected the other. “I was studying law all the time I -was there, and now I have a pretty fair business in New York, although -I don’t have to depend on fees for my living. I have other means.” - -T. Burton Potter, still with his hands up, stared at this man -thoughtfully. What passed in his mind was Potter’s own secret. He may -have had no deeper purpose than to get out of the house—or he may have -had other ideas. - -“Stand still there for a minute. If you are willing to listen to a -proposition, I think I can show you how you can make some money—more -than you’ve ever had in your life, and without having to work for it.” - -“That would suit me,” declared Potter earnestly. - -“No doubt. It would suit most men of your stripe. Let me find out for -myself whether you have any weapons about you. Turn your face to the -wall.” - -In a minute or two the man of the house had been through Potter’s -pockets and found that he had told the truth. Potter knew that there -was a law making it a criminal offense to carry deadly weapons, and he -was too cautious to take a chance of being caught with anything of the -kind. Besides, he did not believe in murder. - -“Put your hands down, and have a drink,” said the stern man, when he -was satisfied that Potter was not armed. “You will notice that my gun -is ready for action, at my finger ends. There’s a bottle on that table -at your side, and glasses. Drink! I don’t care for any myself.” - -T. Burton Potter had had a hard night, and he was willing to refresh -himself with a little liquor. - -“Now listen to me,” said the strange host. “I have something to say.” - -For an hour the two men were in close confab. What they were talking -about may be revealed later. For the present, it is enough to say that -the man told his unexpected guest to call him Louden Powers, and that -henceforth T. Burton Potter must remember his own name was—something -else. - -It would have surprised both the gentlemen in that back room if they -had known that they had for all that time been under the eye of one who -never did a thing, no matter how strange it might appear, save with a -set purpose—Nick Carter, the world-renowned detective. - -Yet it was true. Nick had “broken in,” as he had told Patsy Garvan he -might. He had not had much trouble, for T. Burton Potter had forgotten -to lock the door after letting himself in. - -The detective had come in that way, about the time Louden Powers was -absorbed in the business of keeping Potter under his pistol while he -parleyed with him in the library. - -If Powers had not been so much taken up with his prisoner, he might -have been more careful. In that case, he might have looked into the -dining room, to make sure neither of his two servants—who slept at the -top of the house—were spying on him. That would have meant that Nick -must have dodged. - -As it was, there was nothing of the kind, and he merely stood behind a -big chair and looked over the top of it until the conference between -the two persons in the back room came to an end. - -“You will sleep in this house till we get things going,” were the -closing words of Louden Powers. “I live here entirely alone, except for -my two maidservants and a man who drives my car and does heavy work -about the house. The maids and the man are all Scandinavians, and they -can’t speak English. They say they can’t, at least, but I watch them, -anyhow. Now, let’s go up to bed. I’ll show you your room.” - -Nick stayed in the dining room until the house was quite quiet, and he -figured Louden Powers and his man were both asleep. - -Then he went down to the back door to let himself out, with a satisfied -smile on his face. - -As he reached the front gate of the little garden in front of the -house, Patsy came rushing up to him out of the darkness, panting from a -hard run. - -“Chief!” he gasped. - -“Well?” - -“He’s beat it!” - -“Beat it? Who?” - -“I don’t know. He got out of a third-story window, on that old iron -balcony. He let himself down to the other, and then got to the ground. -Chick and I were waiting for him. But he got over a side fence and was -gone before we were on to his game.” - -“And you let him get away?” - -The sternness in Nick’s voice made Patsy wilt. - -“Chick is after him. But it’s awfully dark, and I don’t figure that he -will ever catch up. I feel mighty bad over it. But it was all done so -quickly that we didn’t have a chance. I thought I’d better be here in -case you came out.” - -“Louden Powers locked him in his room, and, of course, he got away by -the window,” said the chief, more to himself than to Patsy. “I should -have been out here sooner, I suppose. Come on, Patsy! We’ll go home.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - - WHAT NICK CARTER KNEW. - - -For two days Nick Carter and his assistants tried to find T. Burton -Potter, but without result. - -Chick had not been able to follow the man who escaped from the -third-story window of Louden Powers’ house. In the darkness and -among the crooked streets that run west from Sixth Avenue, in -the neighborhood of Jefferson Market, it was not difficult for a -quick-moving fellow like Potter to elude even such a keen pursuer as -Chick. - -Nick did not reproach Chick for his ill success. After his first -disappointment, the famous detective took his usual philosophical view -of the set-back. He never mourned over what could not be helped. - -It was on the evening of the second day, while Chick and Garvan both -were out, trying to get some clew to the whereabouts of the much-wanted -Potter, that Nick strolled over to the East Side, and dropped into a -rather pretentious saloon—one of the kind that calls itself a “café”—in -Third Avenue. - -The detective had not disguised himself in the ordinary sense. But he -wore a cap, instead of his usual well-brushed hat of latest style, and -he had on a long raincoat, which concealed the rest of his attire. It -had been raining a little, which gave him an excuse for the raincoat. - -There were a number of men in the large, overdecorated barroom, and -it was easy for him to step up to the bar and order a Scotch highball -without being observed particularly. - -He sipped his highball slowly, while his keen eyes gazed over the rim -of his glass, taking in the whole assemblage, one by one. - -At last he picked out a rather burly man, who was sitting at a table by -himself, with an evening paper held up so that only occasional glimpses -of his face could be obtained. One of those glimpses had told him who -the man was. - -“Andrew Lampton!” he breathed softly. “And, in the same person, my -old friend, Joe Stokes! I thought I might catch him here. That is the -advantage of having friends in the underworld.” - -He strode over to the table, and looked over the top of the paper, and -said, in low, distinct tones: - -“Lampton, I want you!” - -The man made a quick movement toward his side pocket. As he did so, the -muzzle of an automatic pistol broke its way through the paper, and he -kept his hand still. - -“All right! I cave!” he growled. “Who are you?” - -“It doesn’t matter if you don’t know me,” was the detective’s reply. -“But I believe you do. Wait a moment!” - -Dexterously, Nick dipped into the coat pocket from which Lampton had -meant to take something, and from it lifted a businesslike automatic. - -“Any more besides this, Andrew?” - -“A knife in my inside waistcoat pocket,” he replied briefly. “It’s in a -sheath. Take it out if you like, but I don’t mean to use it.” - -“It would be foolish if you did,” returned Nick. “Anyhow, I’m not here -to arrest you. I want to talk business.” - -“Why didn’t you say so at first?” - -“I haven’t had time to say anything, first or last,” rejoined the -detective. “Have you anything on for to-night?” - -“Nothing.” - -“Well, you may as well pick up that bundle of money you’ve just dropped -under the table. We can burn it later.” - -Andrew Lampton grinned and picked up a roll of counterfeit bills which -had been noticed by the sharp eyes of the detective as soon as they -were put on the floor. - -“Can’t fool you, Mr. Carter!” - -“Not on some things, I hope. We are going to my house. Any of your pals -in this house?” - -“Not that I know of. Some of them were taken in the raid in Jersey City -the other night, and the others are lying low for the present. I wasn’t -in that thing, but I heard about it.” - -“I supposed you would,” said Nick, with a smile. “Where’s T. Burton -Potter?” - -“I don’t know.” - -“Tell the truth, Lampton.” - -“I am telling it. Potter has vanished, and there isn’t any of the gang -know where he is exactly.” - -“Well, come on. We’ll walk across. You don’t mind the exercise, do you?” - -Nick asked this question as politely as if he had been addressing some -intimate friend. Lampton grinned, as he answered, with equal courtesy: - -“Not at all, I assure you. It will give me pleasure, especially with an -agreeable companion.” - -They strolled out of the café together, and any person who observed -them might have said they were on the best of terms. Nobody would have -suspected that Carter was keeping a sharp eye on the smiling man at his -side, and that he would have used his pistol if that had been necessary -to prevent his running away. - -But nothing of the kind happened. Andrew Lampton chatted on the topics -of the day—the theaters, politics, literature, and so forth. He did not -mention criminal matters, nor speak of anything that might have the -slightest bearing on his own favorite occupation, “shoving the queer.” -And yet the roll of phony notes was still in his pocket, waiting to be -burned as soon as they should be in Nick’s home. - -Once seated in the library, in an easy-chair, Lampton handed the -bills to the detective. The latter placed them in a small brazier, -and, with the aid of a certain chemical, reduced them to ashes in an -infinitesimal space of time—much quicker than he could have done it -with simple fire. - -“Rather a pity to see such good stuff burned up,” remarked Andrew -Lampton, with a wry smile, as he began to puff on the perfecto Nick had -passed to him. “I don’t think better hundreds and fifties were ever -turned out, even in Washington.” - -“It would have been more of a pity if they had been left in your -pocket,” answered the detective. “They might have meant a five years’ -stretch for you in a Federal prison.” - -“That’s immaterial,” laughed Lampton. “I expect to be taken in sooner -or later, if I stay in the game. It’s only a question of time. Now, -what do you want me for?” - -“I want those papers you took out of Howard Milmarsh’s trunk in Maple, -for the first thing.” - -“Go on,” said Lampton, smoking comfortably. “What next?” - -“You are to go on with that trick you have arranged with Louden Powers, -to beat Howard Milmarsh out of his fortune. You got the idea while you -were in the Northwest, the night we chased you through the window.” - -“I didn’t know it was you who did it,” snarled Lampton, frowning for -the first time. “What do you know about Louden Powers and me?” - -“Everything!” was the quick reply. “You were to see him to-night, at -eleven o’clock. You’ll keep that appointment, and, if you are wise, you -won’t tell him that you saw me this evening. Now, where is Potter?” - -“I don’t know! Curse him!” - -There could be no doubt of the sincerity with which Andrew Lampton -uttered this malediction. Carter was sure the fellow did not know what -had become of the man who seemed to be as slippery as a greased pig. - -“Give me those papers belonging to Howard Milmarsh. They are of no use -to you now.” - -“How do you know?” grinned Lampton, recovering his equanimity a little. -“A man with those letters and other documents would have no difficulty -in proving himself the real Howard Milmarsh, especially when nature -had made them so much alike that it is difficult to tell one from the -other.” - -“Give me the papers!” repeated Nick, apparently undisturbed by what the -other had said. “I shall produce the real Howard Milmarsh when the time -comes, never fear.” - -“I don’t know now what you’ve brought me up here for,” complained -Lampton wearily. “I’ve had a pleasant smoke—this cigar is excellent—but -I would rather have been left alone, to spend my evening in my own -way. What is the game?” - -“I’ll tell you,” replied Nick, leaning easily back in his chair and -placing the end of his cigar in an ash tray. “It’s a pretty story, and -some people would call it a romance.” - -“Drive on!” - -“Howard Milmarsh disappeared a few years ago, just after his father -died. Howard did not know of his father’s death, but he knows of it -now. He hesitates to come back and claim his estate for reasons I need -not repeat.” - -“No, you need not repeat them,” broke out Lampton. “I know them well -enough. Keep on talking.” - -“So you and your rascally friend, Louden Powers, decided to produce a -Howard Milmarsh, who might claim the property, giving you and Powers -each a fair share—or what you would consider a fair share—of the -estate.” - -“That’s nonsense, Mr. Carter. Who’d believe such a wild tale as that?” - -“I would, when I have proof—and I have that,” rejoined the detective. -“The real Howard Milmarsh has changed considerably in experience in the -years he has been away. You know that, because you saw him at Maple, -and you’ve seen him elsewhere. It struck you that you knew a man who -looked so much like him that he might pass for the missing heir if he -were carefully coached.” - -“Who is the man?” - -“T. Burton Potter,” was the swift reply of the detective. - -“Pooh!” - -“That is the man,” went on Nick, disregarding the contemptuous -ejaculation. “I don’t care how you may try to pretend otherwise. I -_know_. He is so much like Howard Milmarsh, that, in the first few -moments that I saw him, I was actually not sure myself. But soon I saw -him doing things that I knew would be impossible to the man you want -him to impersonate, and, besides, there are minute points of difference -which anybody who knew Howard Milmarsh as well as I would distinguish -immediately.” - -“T. Burton Potter is a gentleman of leisure, I’ve been told,” grinned -Andrew Lampton. “But as for his being like Howard Milmarsh, I don’t -know anything about that.” - -“I don’t mind your being a liar, Lampton,” retorted Nick quietly. “But -I wish you would not pretend to be a stupid one. Did I not tell you -that I _know_?” - -“Why do you want me to go and see Louden Powers to-night?” - -The question came abruptly. Andrew Lampton had seen that it would be -useless to continue his bluffing tactics with the detective. - -“Go and see him and find out, if you can, where T. Burton Potter is. -I want him. And, before you go, give me those letters and papers. You -can’t use them now, and Louden Powers might try to take them from you -if he knew they were in your pocket.” - -“Looks to me as if this game were about up,” commented Lampton, as he -handed over the bundle of papers. “There they are! Just as I got them -from the trunk. I’ll have to depend on your good nature now.” - -“If you help me with this case, I’ll wipe everything off the slate to -date,” replied Nick. “Of course, what you may do afterward is at your -own risk.” - -“I’ll go and see Powers,” promised Lampton, rising from his chair. “But -I don’t believe he knows where Potter is. By the way, what earthly use -is T. Burton Potter to you, if he is not the real Howard Milmarsh?” - -“I think Potter knows where Howard is,” answered Flint. “He is a pretty -slick scoundrel, and can keep a secret. But I think I can swing some -influence with him, considering what I have found out about him.” - -“Ah! I tumble,” laughed Lampton. “Another thing I wanted to ask you. -When you were chasing him so hard on the night of the raid, didn’t you, -honest, believe he was the real Howard Milmarsh?” - -“I did at first. I’ve already told you that.” - -“And when did you find out that he wasn’t?” - -“That’s my own private business,” rejoined the detective. “Report to me -here to-morrow night. That’s all.” - -He pointed to the door as a sign of dismissal. - -“You’re not afraid that I’ll work up some scheme against you, or beat -it for parts unknown?” asked Lampton, smiling. “You seem to feel sure -I’ll obey your orders.” - -“I think you have too much regard for your own good to do otherwise,” -answered the detective, without looking up from the letter he was -reading. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - - A LOVELY SCRAP. - - -For half an hour after the departure of Andrew Lampton, the detective -sat at his table, reading letters and other papers, and occasionally -making notes for answers to be returned or business to be done. He was -a very busy man, and he was essentially methodical. Efficiency was his -watchword, as it is that of most successful men. - -“If I can get hold of this Potter, it won’t be long before I shall -be able to trace Howard Milmarsh. It is absurd for a young man to -remain out of his home and birthright for a mere idea. That Howard -is somewhere in New York I am convinced. I am inclined to think this -fellow Lampton knows also. If I were sure of it, he never would have -left my house to-night. As it is, I must have patience.” - -He lighted a cigar and smoked reflectively for ten minutes. Then, -suddenly, there was a sharp tap at his door, and Chick came in, -followed by Patsy Garvan. The faces of both indicated that they had -news. - -“I guess we’ve found T. Burton Potter!” cried Chick. “Although I never -expected to see him settle down seriously to work.” - -“What’s he working at?” - -“He’s doing some kind of clerical work in Partrom’s steel works, in -Harlem.” - -“Are you sure?” - -“Quite. I saw him in the yard, moving about among the men. He was in a -business suit, but he didn’t seem afraid to get his hands dirty. I saw -him lifting some black timbers out of the way when he wanted to get to -another part of the yard, and he helped some men to shove a truck along -the rails when it got stalled.” - -“Well, Potter is a well-built, powerful fellow,” observed Nick. “And we -know he can jump. The way he went across that alley on the roofs would -have stamped him an athlete without anything else.” - -“He’ll need to be an athlete up there at Partrom’s,” put in Patsy. “I -heard that a lot of the men are down on a certain foreman up there, and -that Potter is taking his side against the others. That generally means -a fight with a rough set of men like those at Partrom’s.” - -“I suppose Potter works only in the daytime?” asked Nick. - -“No. He’s on the night shift. You could get at him right now if you -wanted to go up there.” - -“I do want to go up there, and now,” interrupted the chief. “We’ll use -the big car. Telephone the chauffeur to bring it around right away.” - -While Patsy telephoned the chauffeur to come around with the big -racing car that Nick used when he was in a great hurry to get anywhere, -the detective put away his papers and got up, ready to go. - -He wore the cap he had on when he went to the café after Andrew -Lampton, but not the raincoat. He had given Lampton back his pistol, -but he had his own in his pocket, although he did not expect to have -to use it. But, then, he never did expect to use a weapon when he went -out. If there were a fight, it was pretty sure to start up all in a -hurry, without preliminaries. - -The big car took them up to within four blocks of Partrom’s big -steel mill and then Nick told his assistants to get out and walk the -remainder of the distance with him. - -“Stay here till we come back,” he directed his chauffeur. - -It did not take the three long to get to the front gates of the mill. -When they reached there, they found a lively scene, that none of them -had anticipated. The yard was full of fighting men. - -“What’s it all about?” asked Chick of the nearest man, who seemed to be -trying to break into the row without knowing just whom to hit. “Who’s -fighting?” - -“Everybody!” howled the man. “It’s that guy, Gordon, who’s got the -thing going. He and Douglas.” - -Nick remembered that Milmarsh had assumed the name of Robert Gordon -when working in the lumber woods at Maple, and he recalled also -that there had been a foreman named Douglas out there. He wondered -whether this was merely a coincidence, or whether it had some special -significance. - -There was no time for speculation on anything, however. The detective -could see that about a dozen men were aiming at one young fellow, who, -broad-shouldered and active as he was, found it difficult to stand off -all his assailants at once. - -The young man backed away from the crowd—not in haste or with any show -of fear, however. As he came nearer to Carter and his two assistants, -they were able to see his face in the red glow of the mill. - -“T. Burton Potter!” cried Chick. - -“That’s who it is!” agreed Patsy. - -“Howard Milmarsh or his wraith!” breathed Nick. - -Until now he had been a little doubtful as to the identity of T. Burton -Potter, although his mind was pretty nearly made up. But he felt sure -that this clean-limbed young man, who used his fists so scientifically, -could not be any one but the heir to the Milmarsh fortune. - -“Come on, boys!” cried Nick to his two assistants. “We’ll have to take -a hand in this.” - -Bob Gordon, as he chose to call himself, was holding back his foes with -considerable skill and pluck, but one pair of fists, no matter how well -they are employed, cannot do much good against twenty pairs. - -The men opposing him did not care much about fair play. All they wanted -was to beat down this bold young man, who set at defiance the whole -crowd, and defended the name of the absent foreman, Douglas, with a -courage worthy of one with eight generations of American blood in his -veins. - -Some of the men were trying to pin down Gordon’s arms so that he would -have no driving room, while some of the others, reaching over, struck -viciously at his head with their fists, knowing he could not reach them -when hemmed in so thoroughly. - -“They’ll be taking iron bars to him after a while, I guess, chief!” -remarked Patsy. “Let’s get into this!” - -Nick was already into it. A finished boxer, the detective bestowed a -scientific tap here and there on the faces and necks of those who were -crowding Gordon, thus compelling them to give him breathing room. - -At this moment, Chick caught a mean-looking fellow trying to sneak in -an uppercut on Gordon’s undefended face, while he was busy with half a -dozen others. - -“I reckon I’ll just hand you this!” observed Chick. - -As he spoke, he sent a good, hard crack to the sneak’s chin, doubling -him up like a jackknife, and sending him backward at full length. -Chick’s jab had been a “rock me to sleep,” as Patsy expressed it. - -“Keep back, some of you!” shouted Nick in a tone of thunder. “Twenty -against one! Aren’t you men? You can’t be Americans, or you wouldn’t -act like cowards!” - -His taunt may have shamed one or two of the better sort. But, as a -matter of fact, there were very few Americans in the mob. The effect of -this speech was to bring half a dozen of the big fellows—ironworkers, -and, therefore, powerful—against the detective. - -These men had a rough idea of how to use their fists, and they pressed -hard against Nick, who had to bring all his skill into play to defend -himself. It was a lively battle, and the shouts of boys, girls, and men -and women outside, together with the squeal of a police whistle, helped -to make it more so. - -Bob Gordon might have backed out now and got away if he had chosen to -do so. He had a sprained wrist, and his wind had been mostly knocked -out of him. But he came up to the side of Nick, anyhow. - -Chick and Patsy were both fighting like heroes. But the weight of -numbers was beginning to tell. There were too many for these four, -especially with one of them practically disabled. It began to look -dubious for Nick’s side. - -It was at this moment that a tall, rawboned man of about thirty, in a -blue sweater, who had been driving past the gateway on a truck, saw -what was going on inside the yard, and decided that it was the place -for him to break in. - -He swung off his truck and hurled himself through the gateway as if he -had been sent for. He was a big, two-fisted truckman, with a natural -love of fighting, which had had plenty of encouragement in many a -combat with other truckmen, and with rough-and-tumble battlers among -longshoremen on the various water fronts. - -“Come on, you dubs!” he bellowed. “Catch ’em as I hand ’em out. Take -’em anywhere you like—on your chin, in your eye, on the nose, or -anywhere. They’re all free, and every one is warranted full weight and -hundred per cent the real thing!” - -Evidently overjoyed at the prospect of a scrap that might last for an -hour, the big truckman, whose arms were long and his fists like wooden -mallets, ranged himself alongside Nick and his forces, and soon turned -the tide of battle. - -Five minutes later it looked like a regular rout for the enemy. - -But, just as the big truckman was beginning really to enjoy himself, -the police arrived in force, and Nick whispered to Chick to “Get Patsy -and come along. I don’t want to have to explain to the police now. -Where’s that man Gordon?” - -“I’m afraid he’s gone,” replied Chick. “I didn’t see him get away, but -that’s what he’s done.” - -“Too bad!” exclaimed the chief, allowing his chagrin to have voice for -once. “We had him right here, and now he’s gone.” - -“Well, anyhow, it was a lovely scrap!” chuckled Patsy, tenderly feeling -a bump over his left eye. “Did you see who that truckman was? It was -Bonesy Billings, who used to be a butcher in Fourth Avenue, and who -always brought your meat. I guess he recognized you, and that’s what -brought him into the fight.” - -“It was not only that,” added Chick. “I heard him say that Gordon -roomed at his house, and that he’d lick anybody who touched a roomer of -his.” - -“Do you know where Bonesy Billings lives?” asked Nick. - -“No. But I’ll bet I can find out,” replied Patsy. “Bonesy has driven -away now, or I’d ask him.” - -“Well, if he lives in this neighborhood—as I suppose he does—we ought -to get track of him. Look him up to-morrow, Patsy, and we’ll call on -him in the evening. He may hold the key to the mystery we are trying to -probe.” - -“You mean the finding of Howard Milmarsh?” asked Chick. - -“That’s it exactly,” replied the chief. “I am tired of this fooling. I -want the case off my hands. Come along! Let’s get home.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - - A WELL OF FIRE. - - -“So you are living in this brick house, and running the delicatessen -store as well?” said Nick the next evening, as he and his two -assistants stood outside Bonesy Billings’ home. “This is better than -being in a flat house downtown.” - -“You bet it is,” assented Bonesy. “Besides, my work is up here in this -section, and I’ve no reason to go downtown to live. There’s plenty of -these old brick houses up here that can be rented for about what you’d -pay for a flat around Ninety-seventh Street, and it’s much more airy -and nice here. Then we have some roomers, that help out.” - -“Who are they? Anybody I know, I wonder?” ventured Nick. - -“Not likely. There’s a musician and his daughter—a nice young girl, -and I have another one—that fellow the gang was trying to do up at -Partrom’s last night. His name’s Gordon.” - -“All!” remarked Carter, trying to be calm. “I’d like to see him again.” - -“Well, I guess you can. I think he’s up in his room now. He isn’t -working to-night. The superintendent of the mill has laid him off until -inquiries are made into that fuss where you took a hand. It’s a rotten -shame! Gordon wasn’t to blame for that. The others jumped on him, and -he had to hold ’em off. He’s told me often that nothing can make him -fight—and he ain’t no coward, either.” - -“Look, chief. What’s that?” shouted Patsy Garvan excitedly, running -toward the house. “Fire!” - -“Heaven save us!” ejaculated Billings wildly. “It’s my house!” - -He dashed into the store, and through to the back room, where he saw at -once what had happened. His wife had put kerosene on the kitchen range, -and there had been an explosion which meant destruction for the house. - -Billings lifted his unconscious wife from the floor and ran out to the -street. Then he went back to save what few pieces of furniture he might -hope to get back before the fire took everything its own way. - -The only hope lay in the fact that it was a brick structure, and not a -frame one. The house had been built after the fire laws had forbidden -the putting up of wooden buildings in that area. But there had been -many brick houses put up before the era of iron-frame skyscrapers, and -this was one of them. - -An alarm had been turned in, and already members of the fire department -were dashing up with their machines. It looked as if the fire would -soon be overcome, when somebody shouted: - -“Look! There’s somebody up top!” - -The firemen, with their ladders, had already rescued a woman and two -children from another window. But these people who were shouting for -help from an attic were in the next house, which also had caught fire. - -The firemen—efficient and cool-nerved, as all New York firemen are—put -their ladders up. But owing to the formation of the house, it was -impossible to get at the attic quickly. - -Nick Carter had seen that it was a young girl at the window, and his -wonderful memory carried him back to that night at Maple, where he -had seen the girl they called Bessie Silvius, with her father, Roscoe -Silvius, who had played and sung in the garden of the Savoy. - -“That only confirms my belief that Howard Milmarsh is here,” he told -himself. “It would be likely for them to live in the same house in New -York if they could, after being friends in the wilds of Canada.” - -This passed his mind like a flash as he looked to see how they might be -rescued. He had seen that the firemen could not do it from the outside, -and he made up his mind to a desperate undertaking. - -Fortunately, Nick was known to all the battalion chiefs of the fire -department, and to most of the other men. They all recognized him as -a wonderful detective, and he was allowed privileges that ordinary -citizens do not possess, even though they may have influence and great -wealth. - -It is not an easy thing to get inside the fire lines and be permitted -to move about freely—unless you happen to be a newspaper man. - -“Keep back, Patsy!” shouted Nick, as he dashed into the house, amid a -shower of sparks and through a flood of water pouring from two or three -lines of hose. “I’m going alone!” - -“Come back!” bellowed a battalion chief. “You can’t get through there!” - -Patsy and Chick would both have followed their chief, but firemen held -them back, and they were obliged to yield. - -As they looked up, they saw a man lean from the attic window of -Billings’ house and Patsy yelled that it was Potter. - -“It’s either Potter or Howard Milmarsh,” called out Chick. “I don’t -know one from the other these days.” - -“He’s going to try and save that girl!” said Patsy. - -“Sure enough!” assented Chick. “But where’s the chief?” he added, in a -tone of agony. “That’s what he went into that house for. I wish we’d -never heard of this Milmarsh case!” - -“Come down out of that attic!” roared a chief through his megaphone at -Potter or Milmarsh, whichever it was. “You can’t reach the girl. Hurry -down, and you may save yourself. Another moment will be too late!” - -But the man at the attic window paid no heed. His eyes were on the -girl, who still leaned from the other window, and who was uttering -scream after scream of despairing terror. - -The roar of the fire, the hissing of the water, and the thud of the -fire engines all made up a deafening confusion of sounds. But, through -it all, Chick heard the man at the other window call out cheerfully: - -“Don’t give way, Bessie! I’m coming to save you by the roof!” - -“Oh, Howard! Howard!” responded the girl, shrill with horror. “My -father is here, and he’s helpless!” - -“Keep up your heart!” responded the man. “I’m coming!” - -“Say, Patsy, she called him ‘Howard.’ Did you hear it?” - -“Sure!” - -“Then that looks as if he is the real thing, doesn’t it?” - -But Patsy did not reply. He was wondering whether the man would -reappear. He had vanished from the window, and he might have fallen -back, exhausted, into the awful caldron of flame and smoke behind him. - -“We’ll have to get a ladder up there!” cried a fire chief. “Up with -her, boys! The third house is on fire now. We must get this fellow out -somehow. There’s a better chance with the ladder at this house than -either of the others.” - -It was Bonesy Billings’ house in which the young man called “Howard” by -the girl had just disappeared from the attic window. It was not burning -so fiercely as the other two. - -Whether the firemen succeeded in getting the ladder to the window where -the young man was believed to be, neither Chick nor Patsy could see for -the smoke. Besides, their attention was distracted from it in their -anxiety for their beloved chief. - -Meanwhile, Nick was bounding, head down, up the flaming stairs. As -he reached—barely reached—the landing of the second floor, the whole -staircase collapsed behind him. As it did so, it sent a great gush -of flame and burning embers far upward and out of the front door. -Several firemen, who had been trying to follow him, tumbled out, half -suffocated, into the arms of their comrades outside! - -Nick glanced over his shoulder as he heard the crash. He saw the well -of fire where the stairs had been, and he knew that death in its most -appalling form had missed him by only a few inches! - -He pressed on still upward, with smoke and sparks around him, and -death—almost certain, as it seemed—ahead! - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - - FIVE SECONDS FROM DEATH. - - -Somehow—he never knew how—Nick found his way to the top of the house. -Here he was obliged to pause for a moment. His heart was pounding and -his breath came short. Some little rest he _must_ have! - -“Hello! There’s something thudding overhead!” he gasped. “By Heaven! It -is somebody trying to break through that trapdoor in the roof! It may -be some of the firemen!” he added hopefully. “That means that we shall -get the girl and the others yet. Hurrah for the firemen of New York!” - -A door was burst open on his right and a girl rushed forth, wild with -excitement. - -“Oh, Howard!” she cried. “I’m so thankful you are here! Quick! Quick! -My father!” - -Then, in the gloom and lurid glare of the fire, she found she was -talking to a stranger, and she hesitated to say more. - -But Nick Carter quickly reassured her, and his cheery tones acted like -a stimulant, as he called out: - -“Don’t be afraid, and be ready! Leave your father to me! We must get -out by the roof. There is no other way. The firemen are up there. -They’ll soon break through with their axes. Don’t you hear them -hammering on the trapdoor?” - -“No,” she cried. “It isn’t the firemen. It’s Howard—Mr. Milmarsh! He -can’t open that trap! Oh, can’t we help? Can’t we do something?” - -The name Milmarsh was spoken by this girl as if he were a close friend! -It struck the detective with peculiar force, and he resolved more than -ever that the young man, as well as the girl, must be saved. Here was -the end of his strange case, if only he could get every one clear of -the fire! - -But other things soon crowded these thoughts out of his mind—which, -indeed, they had held only for a second or two. He rushed into the -attic and seized a small pine table. This made a platform for him under -the trapdoor, and enabled him to reach up and shoot back the bolt. - -“It’s open!” he shouted. - -Then he pushed his head through and found himself looking into the face -of—either T. Burton Potter or Howard Milmarsh, he did not know which, -for certain. - -The grime on the detective’s face had changed it so completely that he -was not surprised that there was no recognition in the eyes of the man -looking down at him. Indeed, the man did not see him. He only peered -past him into the gloom, where the girl stood. - -“Where is your father, Bessie?” he asked. “I’m coming down.” - -“No, stay where you are!” interposed Nick. “You can be more helpful up -there. I’ll bring her father.” - -Old Roscoe Silvius, haggard from illness, sat up on a bed in the -adjoining room. Nick wrapped him in a blanket and had him out before -the old man knew what was happening. - -It was not an easy task to lift the helpless old man through the trap. -But Howard Milmarsh helped from above, and it was accomplished in less -time than might have been expected. - -“Now, you!” cried the detective to the girl. “I’ll lift you.” - -Bessie Silvius helped herself a great deal, and in a moment was on -the roof, by the side of her father and Howard Milmarsh—as, for -convenience, we will continue to call the young man. - -Nick followed the girl with one active spring, and, standing upright on -the roof, looked around. One glance was enough to show him that their -only hope of escape lay in crossing the roof of the next house, and so -reaching a place where they might descend to the street. - -The next house was the one which had suffered most by the fire, and the -roof looked as if it might fall in at any moment. Therein lay most of -their peril. - -“Go ahead with the young lady,” directed the detective, as Howard -looked at him inquiringly. “I will bring her father. Push on!” - -Howard drew the girl away, and Nick lifted the old man, carrying him -on a stalwart shoulder along the shaky roof. Fortunately, the roof was -flat, and there was only a low parapet dividing it from the next house, -one that it was easy to step over. - -It was here that the real peril began, however. The house was a mere -blazing shell. In many places the roof had burned through, revealing -fire and blazing rafters below in the awful hell-like pit. - -At every step there was danger of a plunge into the abyss of death -below. But, with the luck that often attends daring and desperation, -they reached the third house in safety. - -“We shall have to climb down the front,” said Nick. “The firemen ought -to have a ladder there by this time. But there’s a sloping roof to be -negotiated. We must be very careful, or it will send us headlong to the -street, after all.” - -“I’ll go first,” offered Howard. - -Before Nick could object—if he had intended to do so—Howard Milmarsh -had crawled up the steep and slippery slate roof, and was holding to -the ridgepole. - -Reaching down, he took Bessie Silvius’ hand and pulled her up to the -ridge, so that she could slide down the other side of the flat part of -the roof. - -“Wait a moment!” called Howard to the detective. “I’ll come back and -help you!” - -“No! You and the young lady get to the ground as soon as you can. I do -not need any help. But this roof is getting worse every minute. There -is no time for argument.” - -This was obvious. The slates were splitting off in the growing heat, -and the rafters below were burning fiercely. It would be only a -question of seconds when everything would tumble in at once. - -Having seen that Howard and the girl had obeyed him, Nick then attacked -the fearsome task of climbing the roof with the weight of the old -musician, and getting down the other side. - -He accomplished the feat, and then saw that Howard Milmarsh was on the -ladder at the top, ready to help him. The girl had already been carried -or had climbed herself to the ground and safety. - -“No, no!” cried Carter to Howard. “Go down! I can manage. The ladder -won’t bear three of us.” - -It called for all the iron nerve possessed by the detective to crawl -across the remainder of the roof, carrying the dead weight of Roscoe -Silvius, and it was a ticklish thing to work his way over the edge -of the building to the ladder. One false step would have hurled both -headlong down. - -But that false step was never taken. The detective seldom made anything -of the kind at any time. There was no fireman at the top of the ladder -to assist him by relieving him of his burden. - -He knew that was because Milmarsh had not yet reached the bottom, but -he could not afford to wait. The entire roof was likely to collapse at -any instant. - -Slowly he began to descend. As he placed his foot on the third rung -from the top, he heard the ladder crack loudly about halfway down. - -“Quick!” came the shout from below. “The ladder’s sprung! Slide down! -It’s your only chance!” - -But that was just what Nick, having only one hand free, could not do. -He kept on moving downward as fast as he could, step by step. There was -nothing else to be done. - -It was a period of breathless suspense. There were no more cries from -below. The great crowd was watching this one man fighting death to save -another, and they felt instinctively that any unnecessary noise might -disturb him. - -Suddenly one broad-shouldered young man rushed out from the throng held -back by a cordon of police. It was Chick! - -Dodging the police and firemen who tried to stop him, he gained the -foot of the ladder and went swarming up like a monkey. - -Almost immediately he was standing just below Carter, and speaking -to him with the coolness that was characteristic of both of them in -moments of fierce peril. - -Just as Chick got there the ladder began to sag in the middle! - -“Drop him on my shoulder, chief!” - -“All right! Glad you’re here!” - -Carefully, but not too fast, the weight of the old man was transferred -to Chick’s arm and shoulder. - -“I have him!” announced Chick. “I’ll have to walk down with him. But -you slide! Just wait till I’m nearly down. Then come!” - -Chick had already begun to move while he spoke, and he was at the -bottom in such a short time that his feat would have done credit to any -old sailor of the ancient windjammer days. - -Nick was not far behind him. He walked down the rungs till a shout told -him his assistant was off the ladder. Then, gripping the sides, he slid -down like a streak. - -He had not a fraction of a second to spare! The ladder cracked in the -middle just as he passed the weak place. He had to drop a few feet, as -it was. - -“Get back there!” roared the fire chief, through his megaphone. - -The warning was none too soon. As the crowd sprang away, the roof and -upper walls of the middle house fell with a crash, and a great volcano -of smoke, sparks, and dust flew up into the air. - -Some of the débris fell among the crowd. It could not be otherwise. -Cries of fright and pain arose here and there, and there was danger of -a panic. - -But the police were efficient—as New York police always are—and soon -there was comparative order, as those who were injured were carried -away in the ambulances which had been waiting on the chance that they -might be needed. - -Neither Nick Carter, Chick, nor Patsy Garvan were hurt. The girl and -her father had disappeared, but the detective felt sure they were being -cared for by somebody, and it did not worry him. What he wanted was to -find the man he had been hunting so long, Howard Milmarsh. - -Chick and Patsy both knew what was passing in the mind of their chief, -and they, too, were looking about for Milmarsh. - -“There he is!” shouted Patsy. “I wonder if he’s hurt!” - -Nick Carter wondered this, too, as he saw Howard Milmarsh leaning on -the iron fence of a house a little distance away, across the street, -with his head resting on his hand. - -“It didn’t get you, did it?” asked Nick, hurrying over to him. - -“No. I’m all right! A little shaken, that’s all. But we saved Bessie! -That’s the main point!” - -“Hum!” grunted Patsy significantly. “When a fellow’s stuck on a girl, -he don’t care for much else—eh, Chick?” - -“I don’t know anything about it,” grinned Chick, who felt happy over -the way everything had turned out. “What do I know about girls?” - -Nick slipped an arm around Howard Milmarsh’s shoulder, and there was -sympathy in his strong, smoke-begrimed face, which drew forth response -from the other at once. - -“A brick struck me on the head,” he said, with an involuntary groan. -“It hurt my head. But it’s nothing serious.” - -“You need rest and quiet for a while, and I’ll see that you get it. -Come with me.” - -Howard Milmarsh was willing to accept anybody’s kindly ministrations -now. The reaction had come, and he felt as weak as a little child. -Without answering, he suffered himself to be led away, Carter on one -side of him, and Chick on the other, while Patsy ran ahead to see that -the chauffeur was there with the big motor car. - -When they had lifted the now half-fainting young man into the car and -disposed him comfortably with the rugs that were always in the car, -Chick and Patsy got in with him. - -Nick took his place by the side of the chauffeur. As the car started, -on its way to the detective’s home, Nick tried to compose his mind and -comprehend the strange happenings that had brought to him the heir to -the Milmarsh millions. - -“‘There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, rough hew them how we -will,’” he quoted softly to himself. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - - ANOTHER KINK. - - -Although Howard Milmarsh had declared that he was not much hurt, and -soon would be well again, it was found that his injuries were more -serious than either he or Nick Carter had believed at first. - -The patient was kept at Nick’s home that night, and the detective’s own -physician, the famous Doctor Grant, came in. He gave the sick man a -long examination. Then, after prescribing a sedative, he beckoned Nick -one side, for a private report. - -“The truth is, Carter, his mind has gone.” - -The detective started and a look of genuine horror appeared in his face. - -“Do you mean that he is permanently insane?” - -“No. I wouldn’t say that. But the blow on the head, with the excitement -and mental strain, have been too much for his brain. It has produced -a condition of aphasia, or loss of memory, which makes him unable to -talk in a coherent manner, simply because he can’t think.” - -“I understand. But I hope he will soon recover.” - -Doctor Grant shrugged his shoulders. As a physician, he was more -interested in the case from a scientific point of view than anything -else. At the same time, he was not wanting in sympathy. - -“My advice is to have him removed to a hospital, where he will be under -constant supervision and will have proper care. You can put him in a -private room—that is, if you do not mind the expense——” - -“The expense is nothing,” interrupted the detective impatiently. - -“Very well. Then that is what you’d better do. In time, with quiet and -careful nursing, together with medical attention, he will come around, -I have no doubt. I will see him every day. I’m on the staff of the -Universal Hospital—where I should advise you to send him—and I will put -him on my regular list.” - -An ambulance conveyed the patient to the Universal Hospital, and he -was put to bed in one of the best private rooms. Special nurses were -engaged for him—one day nurse and one for the night—and orders given -that he be not left alone for an instant. - -Having done this, the detective could only wait, although it worried -him to think that, now that he had found the missing heir, it was only -to see him physically unable to take possession of his rights. - -“I suppose you are sure this is the real, genuine Howard Milmarsh, eh?” -suggested Chick, the evening that they had had the sick, and still -partly unconscious, young man taken to the hospital. - -“I am not sure of anything,” returned his chief, lighting a perfecto. -“But if he isn’t, then I am worse fooled than I am generally in a -matter of identity.” - -A tap at the door, and the butler entered, to announce “Mr. Andrew -Lampton!” - -“Show him in.” - -Lampton came in with rather a jaunty step, bowed to Carter and glanced -questioningly in the direction of his companion. - -“You can say what you have to say, Lampton,” was Nick’s reply to -this silent query. “This is Chick Carter, and he is my confidential -assistant. Take a chair.” - -Andrew Lampton seated himself slowly, at the same time keeping his eyes -fixed on the detective, while a cynical smile played about his lips. - -“Where is T. Burton Potter?” asked Nick, handing a cigar box to his -visitor. “You have not brought him with you?” - -Andrew Lampton took a perfecto from the box, and accepted a light -before he answered. Then he said calmly: - -“I have not brought him with me, because he is in the Universal -Hospital. He was badly hurt at a fire last night, I have been told, -and has been removed to the hospital, where it is expected he will not -recover.” - -It was with difficulty that Nick maintained his usual calm exterior. -Here was an assertion that he could not disprove while the patient at -the Universal Hospital was unable to speak for himself. True, the girl, -Bessie Silvius, had called him Howard Milmarsh. But if T. Burton Potter -were slick enough to deceive others, why should he not have fooled the -girl also? - -These thoughts ran like lightning through the detective’s brain, as -he and Andrew Lampton both smoked steadily. The former was staring at -a picture on the opposite side of the room, as if his mind were quite -occupied with it, to the exclusion of everything else. - -“What makes you think the man in the hospital is T. Burton Potter?” he -inquired, at last. - -“Well, I was told by Louden Powers that he lived in that house, and -that he had been accepted by some of Milmarsh’s intimate friends as -Milmarsh, and that he had been injured at last night’s fire.” - -“You know I was at that fire?” asked Nick quietly. - -“Naturally. Everybody knows that.” - -“How does everybody know it?” - -“Haven’t you seen the evening papers?” - -“No. I saw the morning papers, and my name did not appear in them. I -requested that it should not. Also, I asked that Howard Milmarsh’s name -be kept out of the account of the fire.” - -“Well, here is an evening paper,” returned Lampton, handing him one. -“It is evident that the news leaked. I don’t mind saying, however, that -Louden Powers and I were both at that fire, and that we saw you come -down the ladder with that old man. Somebody else—the gentleman over -there, whom you tell me is your assistant—carried him down the lower -part of the ladder. Then you slid down by yourself.” - -Nick glanced down the column of print detailing the incidents of -the fire, and saw that his own name and Howard Milmarsh’s were both -mentioned. He had little doubt that the “leak” had been contrived by -Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton. But he did not say so. It was his -custom to let the other party play his hand out before he showed his -own, if it could be done. - -“How long had T. Burton Potter been living in that house where the fire -was?” he asked, at last. - -“Only a few days, I understand. That’s what the man who rents the house -tells me. He is a truckman, and his name is said to be Billings. They -call him Bonesy Billings, but I should think the ‘Bonesy’ is only a -nickname. At all events, that is the only first name I heard for him. -He calls his roomer Howard Milmarsh. But that only shows how much -alike Potter and this Milmarsh must be; when nobody can tell which is -which. You haven’t heard anything of the real Milmarsh, have you?” - -“I think I have,” was Nick’s curt reply. - -He had to admit to himself that Andrew Lampton and Louden Powers -were playing a cunning game. They had taken instant advantage of the -sickness of the man hurt at the fire to declare that he was T. Burton -Potter, and not Howard Milmarsh. And the worst of it was that it could -not be disproved unless the poor fellow whose memory was gone could be -brought to his senses. - -“Where is Louden Powers?” - -This question came suddenly, but it did not disturb Lampton. He puffed -contentedly at the good cigar between his lips, and answered briefly: - -“I don’t know.” - -“You saw him last night?” - -“Yes. But that is the last time I saw him. Louden said he had a little -business to attend to, which would keep him out of New York for a -few days. Then he hopped on a street car and was gone. Mighty slick -citizen, Louden!” - -“What is to prevent my putting you in the Tombs while I look into this -matter?” suddenly demanded Nick. - -Chick, who had been sitting at his desk in a corner of the room, jumped -to his feet as his chief abruptly flung the question at Lampton. Chick -was as much surprised as anybody—more so than Lampton appeared to be, -for that worthy did not move in his chair, and took the time to inhale -a few more puffs of his cigar, before he answered coolly: - -“Your word, my dear boy! You promised me you would not do anything of -that kind so long as I did what you requested. Well, I’ve done it. -You wanted me to bring T. Burton Potter to you, and you have him in -your own care. He is in the hospital, it is true. But he’s under your -own eye, and you might not have had him if I had chosen to get him -away before the fire broke out. I could have done it easily, but I was -pledged to you, and, of course, I could not go back on you. I know you -will keep faith with me.” - -“That is true,” admitted the detective. “It would be better if I had -you securely in a cell. But I won’t do it at present.” - -“Thanks!” - -“I do not concede that you had anything to do with putting T. Burton -Potter into my hands—if the young man in the hospital really is -Potter—but I will allow you to have your own way about that.” - -“It is the truth. That’s why. You know it, too, Mr. Carter. Well, if -there is nothing else, I reckon I’ll be going. If you want me again, -you can hear of me at the café in Third Avenue, where you found me -before. So long!” - -With the remnant of the perfecto sticking up from the corner of his -mouth, Andrew Lampton strolled to the door, opened it, and disappeared. -As the door closed, Chick remarked casually: - -“Patsy will see where he goes. I’ve given him a standing order not to -lose sight of Andrew Lampton when once he has been here.” - -“Quite right!” commended the chief. “Now we have a lot of our work to -do all over again! I believed I really had Howard Milmarsh and could -close up the case. But these rascals have started a new game, and we -shall have to see it through.” - -“You don’t believe it is really T. Burton Potter who is in the -hospital, do you?” asked Chick. - -“I shall have to prove it isn’t. That’s the task they have set for me, -and it will not be an easy one.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - - ANOTHER SCHEME. - - -The weeks went slowly by, and the patient in the private room at the -Universal Hospital remained in the bewildered condition in which he had -been since the night of the fire. He improved physically, but his mind -was still a blank. - -“Have you seen this, chief?” asked Chick one morning, as, after -breakfast, he opened the morning paper, which Carter had been too busy -to look at yet. “Another scheme to open up a beautiful section in -Muddyford or Eden-in-the-Swamp. It’s an advertisement, and it reads -like a romance. Listen!” - -He read the principal display lines in a full-page advertisement, as -follows: - -“‘The new Paradise City! Artistic Homes for Everybody, which are paid -for the same as rent. A bower in the midst of nature’s loveliness.’ -And so on. Get on to that old gag, chief, ‘Paid for the same as rent?’ -That’s a lulu.” - -“Advertisements of that kind are always in the papers,” remarked Nick -carelessly. “Some of those real-estate developments are all right, too. -Others are not, of course.” - -“I don’t know anything about this one,” went on his assistant. “But -I couldn’t help noticing it, because it’s the same one we’ve been -getting booklets about. Here’s one that was in the mail box yesterday. -It was just shoved through the slit by hand. That’s what makes it look -fishy. As if they were afraid to use the mails, in case of government -inquiries.” - -“You may be wrong about that, Chick,” answered his employer absently, -as he lighted his after-breakfast cigar. “What’s the booklet about?” - -“Well, the heading looks as if it might possibly interest us. It -reads: ‘The Lost Heir Found! The Story of a Great Estate to be Given to -the Use and Benefit of Everybody.’” - -“What’s that?” demanded Nick, suddenly interested. - -“Well, there’s a lot in it about a long-lost heir having suddenly -returned and claimed his own. He has traveled far during his years of -absence, and, while away, he has made a deep study of country homes for -the masses at a low cost. It is a hobby with him.” - -“Go on. Are you reading from the book?” - -“I am picking out the important parts,” returned Chick. “Do you want to -see it? Here it is.” - -He handed the gaudy-covered pamphlet to his chief, who rapidly absorbed -the salient points of its contents. He had the faculty of skimming -pages and getting their purport in a few hasty glances. - -One paragraph that particularly interested him explained things in -these rather bombastic terms: - -“The long-lost heir of this estate—which is within a few miles of New -York City—has resolved that some of the broad acres which have now -become his shall be surrendered to the people. Upon these acres he will -build a model settlement, a city of beautiful homes, each set in a -fair garden of its own. To these he invites those who have heretofore -been cooped up in city flats to come and live, really, in the lap of -bounteous nature. Come to the new Paradise City and see for yourselves.” - -The exact situation of the new Paradise City was not given. Those -who were interested could call at room No. 2006 in one of the great -skyscraping office buildings downtown, and there learn all they might -wish to know. It was also stated that a small sum down would be -required. After that the property could be paid for in monthly payments. - -“There is nothing remarkable about this,” remarked Nick, “except about -the long-lost heir. That gives me a feeling that it may be the Milmarsh -estate somebody is playing with. I don’t see how it is, exactly, -unless some one has seen the attorneys, Johnson, Robertson & Judkins, -and persuaded them that Howard Milmarsh has turned up.” - -“How can that be?” asked Chick. - -“Do you know for certain whether it is T. Burton Potter or Howard -Milmarsh lying in that room at the Universal Hospital?” - -Nick put this query significantly, and Chick immediately screwed up one -eye. - -“We might call up the lawyers on the telephone and find out something -about it,” he suggested. - -“We might. But I prefer to look into it myself. The lawyers will take -what evidence is presented, and act upon it. They may have done so -already. It looks to me as if they have. If I were to call them up -there would be a lot of bustle immediately, and the scoundrels, if they -really have tried to steal a march on me, would be on their guard.” - -“It’s Lampton, I suppose.” - -“And Louden Powers,” added Nick. “I have not much doubt about that. -We’ll go up to room No. 2006 in that building and see what we can find -out.” - -“What are we to look like?” asked the young man, quite as a matter of -course. - -“I’ll be an old man, in shabby clothes. You can be my son, with -spectacles and a cap pulled down low. That will be disguise enough. -They would spot us at once if we didn’t do something to change our -appearance. I hate to do that kind of thing, but it can’t be helped in -this case.” - -Half an hour later a feeble old man, in a long, thin overcoat and -wearing a soft, black hat with a wide brim, was helped upon a Broadway -car by a young man with dark spectacles and wearing a cap. The rest of -the young fellow’s apparel was a shabby sack suit and a blue necktie -under a frayed collar. His shoes were of tan leather and badly scuffed. - -The look of the two suggested that they had a little money saved, -but were the kind of people who were obliged to watch their nickels -carefully. - -They found that there were three offices belonging to the Paradise -Improvement Company, although only one was open to the public. It was a -sort of anteroom, and there were a number of people waiting to see the -big man in the inner office when Nick Carter and his assistant forced -their way in through the throng. - -“Say, chief!” whispered Chick. “There’s Billings!” - -Sure enough, Bonesy Billings was there to purchase a lot at Paradise -City. He did not care who heard him talk about his business. He was -telling a chance acquaintance that his house had caught fire, but that -his furniture was all insured, and he had enough money now to go and -live in the country, to raise chickens and garden truck and keep a cow. -He figured he could make a fair living that way and wouldn’t have to -work as he had in New York. - -“I’d like to warn him to be careful,” remarked Chick, in a low tone, to -his chief. “He’s just the kind of simple fellow to swallow all that is -told him, and I don’t like the general look of these offices. They are -too gorgeous to be entirely honest, I’m afraid.” - -Bonesy Billings went into the inner sanctum, and after about fifteen -minutes came out with a quantity of “literature” in his hands. This -consisted of booklets, circulars, statements of what had been done to -improve the plots to be sold, and plenty of gay-colored pictures. - -“Well, I’m going to look it over,” announced Bonesy, to anybody who -would listen. “It’s out in the country, all right, and it’s been a -private estate for a hundred years. But it’s such a big place that the -present owners can afford to have this Paradise City built in one part -of it without its ever being seen from the windows of the big house. -The folks in that mansion will be neighbors of them that buys in -Paradise. I guess I’ll go up there of evenings and hear the daughter of -the family—if there is one—play the pianner. Good old ragtime, I hope.” - -“Where is the place?” ventured Chick. - -“Why, it’s a family by the name of Milmarsh,” replied Bonesy. “Howard -Milmarsh, who has been away for three years or so, is home again, and -it’s him that’s laying out this new place. He’s all right, Howard is.” - -“Is he inside the offices now?” - -“No, I guess not. It’s the manager who does the business. He’s a -lawyer, I was told.” - -“I’d like to see him,” put in Nick, in a quavering voice. “I hope I -shan’t have to wait long.” - -There was a note of appeal in this from the seemingly old man that -touched the hearts of most of the people waiting to see the manager. - -“Let him go in first. I’m willing,” declared a man who evidently was -one who worked hard with his hands, and who was the next in line. “If -everybody else is agreeable, let the old gentleman go right in.” - -There was no dissent, and Chick, taking his chief by the elbow, -propelled him into the inner office. - -Three persons were in the room, but none of them were known to the -detective or Chick. - -“Too slick to give themselves away,” whispered the latter, as they -entered. “I half expected to see Louden Powers or Lampton.” - -“They are in the background, I guess,” was the hasty reply. - -They advanced into the large room, and Nick bowed humbly to a portly, -dignified man behind the large table. On either side of him were -younger men, who appeared to be assistants. There was a typewriter in -front of one of them. - -It would be tedious to describe the interview in detail. Suffice it -that when Nick and his assistant came out of the offices, they had -a bundle of circulars and booklets, and had learned positively that -somebody who called himself Howard Milmarsh had taken possession of the -estate. - -One thing rather relieved Nick, and that was the admission from the big -man behind the desk that Mr. Milmarsh had not formally taken possession -of his property yet. There were some legal matters to be adjusted, he -said, which might take a month or more. But Mr. Milmarsh was selling -plots now, with the understanding that buildings would begin after the -settlement of his estate. - -“It’s a swindle, of course. But it is in the hands of good lawyers, and -they know just how to smooth over the rough places for their clients,” -remarked Nick. “I should like to see Lampton.” - -Little more was said until the two were again at home. They had not -used the street cars this time. Chick caught a passing taxi, and they -rode quickly home. - -“Let Patsy run over to that café and find out something about Andrew -Lampton. I understand he has lost sight of him in the last three weeks.” - -“Well, you did not want him to spend any more time watching the -fellow,” Chick reminded him. - -“I know that. We traced him to a hotel uptown, and he was living there -till three weeks ago. Then he vanished, and I did not think it worth -while to trouble Patsy about it any longer.” - -Chick looked at his chief in a peculiar way. He felt convinced that -there was something passing in the detective’s mind that he had not -chosen to divulge. He was right, as his next words showed. - -“I had information that he was in the neighborhood of the Milmarsh -home. Captain Brown is an old friend of mine. I telephoned him, and he -said a man who did not give his name, but who, he since has learned, -calls himself Powers, stayed at the Old Pike Inn one night. After that -he went up to the Milmarsh home, and is believed to be the guest of -Howard Milmarsh. If Louden Powers is there, the chances are that Andrew -Lampton is not far away.” - -Patsy hastened out on his errand, and in about half an hour returned -with the information that Andrew Lampton had gone to the country, but -that no one knew what was his destination. - -“That will do, Patsy. You will have to remain on watch here for a few -days. Chick and I are going out to the Old Pike Inn on the midnight -train.” - -“There’s a train two hours earlier than the ‘Owl,’” suggested Patsy. - -“I know that,” was Nick’s reply. “But I do not care to reach there -while many people are about.” - -“I see,” said Patsy with a grin. “You want to sneak in on rubbers.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - - WHICH WAS WHICH? - - -At eight o’clock the next morning the chief and Chick faced each other -across a well-served breakfast in a private dining room in the Old Pike -Inn, while Captain Brown, the proprietor, smiled on them from a chair -at the window. - -“Well, of course, Carter,” went on Brown, who had been speaking, “we -can’t tell much about this Howard Milmarsh. I used to see him down -here at the Inn pretty often, and I thought I knew him. He has changed -a little in the few years he has been away. But the features are the -same, of course, and his size and shape have not much altered. In fact, -I thought he would have grown heavier than he has.” - -“Does he come down to the Inn now?” - -“Never seen him since the night he arrived, with that man Andrew -Lampton. That was before Louden Powers came. Powers stayed here one -night, but the other two went straight up to the Milmarsh residence. -I happened to be down at the railroad station when they arrived, or I -wouldn’t have seen them at all.” - -“Did you speak to them?” - -“Oh, yes. Milmarsh shook hands with me, and said I had not changed -since he saw me last, and I handed him back a similar line of talk. You -know how men do when they haven’t seen each other for a long time.” - -Carter nodded and poured out another cup of coffee for Chick. - -“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Captain Brown jovially. “What humbugs men are! I -could see a lot of changes in him, but I did not think he would want me -to say so, and, of course, I didn’t.” - -“Well, we came up here to learn what really was going on,” observed -Nick, after a pause. “What are they doing at Paradise City?” - -“Nothing.” - -“No building going on?” - -“Why, no. They couldn’t build there. It’s that swampy place over to the -northeast. Mr. Milmarsh—I mean this Howard Milmarsh’s father—never did -anything with it. He talked about having it filled in some time. But he -never did it. If he had, he would have made it an extension to his golf -links.” - -“They are selling plots, aren’t they?” - -“Yes.” - -“Do the people who buy the plots think the swamp won’t hurt?” threw in -Chick, as he finished his breakfast. - -“They don’t see the swamp,” replied Captain Brown. - -“How do they buy, then?” - -“From a map. Ha, ha, ha! Swamps don’t show on maps—unless you want them -to. You ought to know that.” - -“I do know it,” replied Chick. “But I didn’t suppose they could put -over such a bluff as that. It isn’t Howard Milmarsh who does it, is it?” - -Nick listened with some show of interest for Captain Brown’s reply to -this. - -“I don’t know who is at the back of the Paradise City project,” he -answered more seriously. “I suppose Howard Milmarsh must sanction it, -or it wouldn’t be going on. But the fellows engineering the game are -Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton.” - -It was apparent to Nick Carter that Captain Brown could have told more -about the business if he had chosen to do so. But he was manager of the -Old Pike Inn, and it was his policy not to say anything about anybody -which might rebound and hurt his trade. He was an innkeeper first of -all, and he never forgot his own interests. - -“Well, captain, you will be careful not to let anybody know who we -are, of course?” adjured the detective. “We shall go and see the swamp -during the day, and to-night there will be something else we shall have -to attend to. Secrecy is important, but I was sure we could depend on -you.” - -“You can bank on me to the last cent,” replied Captain Brown -impressively. “You say you want to look at that swamp?” - -“Yes.” - -“You don’t want to walk through it, I suppose?” - -“Hardly,” said Nick, with a smile. “It must be pretty wet about this -time.” - -“Almost a lake! What I was about to suggest is that I can take you -along the east road in my car, and you can see the swamp over the -fence. If that is all you want of it.” - -“That will be just what we do want,” replied Nick. “I should like to -assure myself that nothing has been done to alter the appearance of the -place. How soon do we start?” - -“In ten minutes, if you like. I’ll go down and telephone the garage at -once, and have the machine at the door by the time you are ready. It -will be an open car—unless you would rather ride in a limousine. You -would not be so exposed to view then.” - -“It’s a lonely road, and if we do see anybody staring, we can pull our -hats down over our eyes, and be looking for something that we may have -dropped in the car,” said the chief. “We’ll take the open car.” - -Neither Carter nor Chick made any attempt to disguise themselves for -this trip. They appeared merely to be two visitors to Old Pike Inn -looking at the country as the guests of Captain Brown. He often took -guests out in his car. - -Nick knew something about the section of the Milmarsh estate generally -spoken of by those who lived in the neighborhood as “the swamp.” But he -wanted to look it over, to make sure that it had not been changed. - -He kept in mind the instructions of the elder Howard Milmarsh, to see -that his son was not deprived of any of his rights. - -If this was the real Howard Milmarsh who had seated himself in the -mansion, with these two shady characters, Louden Powers and Andrew -Lampton, as his chief advisers, then it was the detective’s clear duty -to go there and tell the new head of the Milmarsh family what his -father’s wishes were. - -“I shall know more about it after to-night,” was the way he finally -settled it with himself. - -The swamp looked about the same as he always had seen it, and he ground -his teeth in indignation as he thought of the poor people who were -giving up their money for worse than nothing at all. - -It was just as they had passed the swamp, and were turning into another -road, away from the Milmarsh estate, that Nick caught sight of a man -walking in a narrow path not far from the big house, apparently in deep -thought. - -His head was bent and his hands were clasped behind him, as he -strolled, looking neither to the right nor left. - -“Who is that?” asked Nick, who had not had a look at the man’s face. - -But at that instant the musing one looked up, and the morning sun fell -right across his countenance, bringing up plainly every feature. - -It was only a momentary glimpse that the chief and Chick had of the -man’s face. But it was enough for both of them to see it so clearly -that both knew it was the man who called himself Howard Milmarsh. - -“Either that man is Howard Milmarsh, or I can’t tell the rightful owner -of this place from a rascal who ought to be in jail. I wonder whether I -shall find out which is which?” - -Carter had said this loudly enough for his assistant to hear, and it -was in a tone of conviction that the latter replied: - -“You’ll find out, chief, and, by ginger, I believe I know already what -the verdict will be.” - -“You are more sure than I am, Chick. I thought I _knew_ that the man -who is in the Universal Hospital is Howard Milmarsh. But that man we -have just passed looks as much like the real one as the other. It’s a -puzzle. But I must untangle it somehow.” - -“We are going to do it to-night, aren’t we?” - -“Yes. At least, we’ll try. You have the long dusters and big caps in -that suit case, haven’t you, Chick?” - -“All right, chief. We won’t look like ourselves when we are rigged -up for our little visit to the big house on the hill. You can bet on -that.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - - BY UNDERGROUND. - - -It was soon after darkness had set in—a darkness helped by a drizzling -rain which had begun in the afternoon—when two men in long dusters and -with large caps pulled over their eyes crept through the shrubbery at -the back of the Milmarsh mansion and moved along the stone foundation -wall, as if looking for something. - -“Here it is, Chick. Howard Milmarsh, the father, showed it to me once -when we were walking through the grounds. It’s the hole through which -they used to take the colored people so that they could keep them -in safety till they could be sent up State and over the border into -Canada.” - -“It was part of the ‘underground railroad’ in slavery days, I suppose?” - -“Yes. The Milmarsh who lived here seventy years ago was an -abolitionist, and his wife was particularly enthusiastic in trying to -help negroes to escape from the South. It’s a good thing for us now. -Come along!” - -The hole that Nick had discovered in the stone foundation wall was -about four feet square, and was covered by a wooden board on which -composition had been placed, so that it looked like the stones all -about it. Only one who knew where to look would be likely to discover -that there was any break at all in the wall. - -The disguised board was easily removed by pressing a secret spring. - -“Get in, Chick. Enter feet first. Sit down and let yourself go.” - -“I may get a hard bump,” protested the young man. - -“No, you won’t. I promise you that,” replied his chief. - -Chick gingerly stepped into the hole, with his back to the outer world -and his feet straight out before him. - -Hardly had he assumed his position when he began to slide, and in a -second he was scooting down a long, smooth chute in black darkness. -Suddenly he stopped in the midst of what felt like a gigantic feather -bed. - -He heard his chief chuckling at the hole, and he realized that when -slaves were brought into this house, every care was taken that they -should not be hurt in the process. - -He got to his feet, and found himself standing on a smooth floor, while -Nick softly warned him to keep out of the way. - -There was a slight scuffle in the distance, then a whisking sound, and -his employer shot into the midst of the feather bed, just as he had -done. - -The glow of an electric flash light showed him that his chief was by -his side, smiling, as he cast the light about. - -“You see, Chick, this room is cut off from all the inhabited part of -the house—except in a roundabout way that I will show you later. It is -solidly built, and no one could get at the people housed here except by -that one opening in the outer wall. The one by which we came in.” - -Nick also pointed out marks on the wall where bunks had been, and told -his assistant that it had been possible for nearly two hundred persons -to sleep in the room at one time. - -“I have been told that more than two hundred refugees have stayed here -all night on occasion. But I doubt whether they slept much. Now come -with me. I’m going to find out to-night, if I can, where the real -Howard Milmarsh is.” - -Chick did not reply. He had implicit confidence in the great detective -by whom he was proud to be employed, and he only wondered how the -object was to be accomplished—not whether it would be. - -In one corner the detective fumbled for a few moments, and a panel in -the wooden wall swung open on a pivot in the center, top, and bottom. -There was space enough for an ordinary-sized person to go through, and -even a stout one could have squeezed in. - -Nick went ahead, and from the darkness beyond told his assistant to -follow. - -No sooner were they both in, than Nick directed the glow of his flash -light up a flight of narrow, winding stairs. They seemed as if they -might go to the top of the house, for Chick felt as if he never would -be at the end of turning around. - -But the chief stopped after a while, and, opening another concealed -door, went through, followed by Chick. They were in a narrow hall -now—one with half a dozen twists and turns. - -“Hush!” - -It was the chief’s voice in a low tone of warning, for Chick had just -made an exclamation of annoyance as he stumbled over a low stool. - -Chick was silent. Then he started, for there were voices close to him, -although he could not see anybody but his employer. - -“That sounds like Andrew Lampton,” whispered Chick. - -“It is Lampton.” - -“And there’s Louden Powers.” - -“Right!” - -“Where are we, chief?” - -“I’ll show you. Sit on that stool—the one you just now fell over.” - -Nick turned the light on the stool, and also revealed that a similar -stool was by its side. - -The chief sat on one stool and Chick sank upon the other. This brought -their faces close against the wall. - -“Move that little, round piece of wood in front of you, Chick. It works -on a pivot. I have another one here.” - -“Gosh!” ejaculated Chick. “It’s a peephole!” - -“Yes. It’s in the carved frame of a big picture. That prevents the hole -being observed from the other side. We are now looking into the dining -room. I suppose this narrow place we are in was used when negroes were -being helped to freedom. Anyhow, it’s mighty useful to us now. I’m glad -Howard Milmarsh’s father showed it to me.” - -“Why did he do it?” - -“Only because I was curious about this wonderful old house. He was -proud of its mysteries and unexpected twists and turns. He and I were -good friends, and he knew he could depend on my keeping a silent tongue -about anything he might show me. Take that lesson to yourself.” - -“Of course,” returned Chick, in rather a hurt tone. “You never knew me -to talk about anything you told me, did you?” - -The chief reached over and took his assistant’s hand. He had not meant -to injure his feelings. - -“Look through the hole and take note of everything you see. There are -chinks all about the big picture in front of us—in the frame, that -is—and we ought to hear easily.” - -Nick was right in this. They could see and hear to perfection. - -The dining room of the Milmarsh mansion was an immense, lofty room—more -a hall than a room indeed. It was hung with pictures of dead-and-gone -Milmarshes, in the manner of a baronial hall in Europe, and was richly -lined with tapestries, while frescoes and other ornamentation seemed -never-ending. - -From the center of the ceiling hung a gorgeous chandelier, which had -been fitted with electric lights when that style of illumination came -in. But there were old-fashioned sconces for wax candles still on -the gilt arms, with the curious crystal pendants which went with the -candles, as well as pipes and tips for gas. - -At a table in the middle of the room, on which remained the white cloth -for dinner, sat three men. They were Louden Powers, Andrew Lampton, and -the young man whom Lampton had declared to be Howard Milmarsh. - -The last-named was speaking, in a thick voice that made Nick think of -that night, years ago, when Howard Milmarsh had rushed from the Old -Pike Inn, believing himself the murderer of his distant cousin, Richard -Jarvis. The voice seemed to be absolutely the same. - -“I don’t like this Paradise City business, Lampton,” he was saying, in -an angry tone. - -“You have nothing to say about it,” snapped Louden. - -“It’s my property, isn’t it?” - -“Yes, it’s your property,” assented Lampton. “But you never would have -proved your right to it without our help.” - -“Oh, I think I could,” snarled Milmarsh. “Carter would have helped me -if I’d asked him.” - -The other two men laughed derisively. - -“Why, you idiot!” broke out Powers. “He would not admit that you are -Howard Milmarsh.” - -“His Howard Milmarsh is in a hospital in New York.” - -“He doesn’t believe that man is Howard Milmarsh,” declared the man whom -we will call that for convenience, as has been done before in this -narrative. - -“He doesn’t know who he is,” said Powers. “He took him there as -Milmarsh, and, of course, he doesn’t like to have to confess that he -has turned out to be T. Burton Potter, after all.” - -“If that fellow ever should recover his mind and memory——” - -The young man said this musingly, as he poured himself out another -glass of champagne. - -“If he did, all the fat would be in the fire again,” finished Andrew -Lampton, also taking some more champagne. - -“Well, now, the point is what are we going to do about the Paradise -City affair?” said Louden Powers. “There is a row brewing, and the -people who have put their money into it want to know when they will get -their plots. Can’t you get those lawyers in New York to settle matters -for you, Howard?” - -“How am I to do that? They have let me take possession, but they are -slow to believe things—like all lawyers. They pretend to have some -doubts still whether I am the right man.” - -“What do they want?” - -“They insist that until Carter concedes in writing that the estate is -in the hands of the real Howard Milmarsh, they can allow me to remain -here only on sufferance.” - -“Well, then, the people can’t have their Paradise City plots. That’s -all there is to it. When you get a good hold on the bank account, as -well as just this property, we shall be able to pay those who make a -fuss, and we shan’t care what the others do.” - -Louden Powers said this in harsh, grating tones, as he grinned over his -wineglass at the other two. - -“How much money is there in the Paradise City treasury?” asked Andrew -Lampton. - -“After paying the manager and assistants, and the rent for the offices, -I have three thousand dollars and a few odd hundreds,” announced -Powers, consulting a small notebook. - -“Well, I’ll take a thousand of it. I’m tired of having no money. It’s -all very well to live in a fine house, but I want some cash.” - -“You have everything you want here,” snapped Louden Powers. “Plenty of -the best kind of food, wines, motor cars, servants, and everything else -a man could want. What are you bothering about money for?” - -“None of your business, Louden, what I want it for. Are you going to -hand over that thousand?” - -“You may as well,” put in Andrew Lampton. “If you have three thousand -clear, each of us is entitled to a thousand. The odd hundreds you can -throw back into the treasury. We may want another dividend before -this matter is all straightened out. I begin to doubt whether Howard -Milmarsh ever will come into his own.” - -“I don’t doubt it,” whispered Carter significantly to Chick. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - - DOUBTS. - - -There was more squabbling over the division of the booty, and much more -champagne was disposed of before an agreement was reached. But at last, -with a grudging look, Louden Powers brought out a leather wallet and -slowly counted out ten hundred-dollar bills to each of his companions. - -“There you are!” he grunted. “But it is a foolish thing to draw all -the capital out of a business before the time comes to wind it up. I’m -going to bed. It’s early—not much after eleven. But I’m tired. I have -to go down to New York to-morrow, to see how things are at the office.” - -“Hear that, chief?” whispered Chick. - -“Of course I do.” - -“Well, he may be going to make a get-away.” - -“He won’t succeed.” - -“How do you know?” - -“Patsy Garvan will be with you,” was the chief’s short reply. “Now, -keep still and watch.” - -Louden Powers staggered to his feet, and Carter realized, for the first -time, how drunk he was. - -“I’ll have to get some help to find my way to the elevator,” he -mumbled. “What kind of wine is that, anyhow, Howard?” - -“You’ll have to ask my father—if you know where he is,” laughed Howard -Milmarsh. “He bought it.” - -“Good for the old man!” squealed Andrew Lampton. “I say it’s durned -good booze! I wish I never had to drink anything worse! Whee! Come on, -old top! We’ll find the elevator!” - -He lurched over to Louden Powers, and the two worthies reeled out of -the room, and across the hall to the elevator, which was operated by an -electric button by the passenger. - -“I doubt whether they will be able to get upstairs in that,” muttered -Chick. “I wish we could sail in and knock their heads together!” - -“Why?” - -“We’d make such a racket that somebody might tell the actual truth in -the confusion. I can’t believe that fellow sitting at the table is the -real Howard Milmarsh.” - -“Neither can I, Chick. But he has possession, and he could not have -got that if he had not convinced the lawyers. And Johnson, Robertson & -Judkins are not easily convinced.” - -“That guy down there at the table is a blackguard. The real Howard -Milmarsh never behaved that way, did he?” - -Nick was thoughtful for a few moments, and he did not answer until he -saw the man in the dining room reach down into the pail on the floor at -his side, in which was still an unopened bottle of champagne, and take -out a large piece of ice, which he pressed to his forehead. - -“I have seen the real Howard Milmarsh do just what this fellow is doing -now. Of course, that does not prove that they are the same person, but -it is an indication. I have not _quite_ made up my mind yet.” - -For another fifteen minutes the young man at the table sat there -holding ice to his forehead. Occasionally he drank some water from the -carafe on the table. - -At last he got up and walked the length of the room and back, as if to -test his ability to do it without staggering. - -He was fairly successful, and he uttered a mirthless laugh as he -dropped again into his seat. - -“The blackguards!” he burst out suddenly. “The infernal, low-bred -rascals! They can’t even be decent crooks! This game they’ve played -on the poor devils who are paying for that swamp land is worse than -stealing the pennies from a blind man’s dog!” - -He took from a pocket the ten hundred-dollar notes and gazed at them -thoughtfully. - -“For two cents I’d put a match to these. I may not be a saint, but, by -the big bull of Bashan, I never was a robber of widows and orphans. At -least, not when I knew it!” - -He reached over to the silver match box on the table, and savagely -struck a light. He held the lighted match till it burned up brightly, -and then, with the notes in his left hand and the match in his right, -laughed again in the hollow way he had before. - -“Look!” whispered Chick excitedly. “The dub is going to burn up a -thousand dollars!” - -But he didn’t do it. Just as he was about to touch the flame to the -money, he shook his head, and, with another dry chuckle, blew out the -match and dropped it in an ash tray. - -“No, I won’t!” he mumbled. “What would be the use of that? The people -who paid it in wouldn’t get it. Besides, if those two scoundrels have -a thousand apiece, why shouldn’t I? And I need cash. This business of -having a big house, with servants and everything else, but no money, -isn’t the kind of thing I like. I suppose there’ll be hail Columbia -when it comes time to pay these servants, to say nothing of the butcher -and groceryman and all the rest of the tradesmen.” - -He was about to pour himself out another glass of champagne, but -changed his mind and took some water from the carafe instead. It looked -as if he were trying to sober up. - -“Well, I’ll go to bed,” he exclaimed, after another pause, during which -he seemed to be trying to collect his thoughts in some sort of orderly -array. “And, in the morning, I’ll begin to have this affair brought to -a focus. I’m tired of going on this way for nothing at all, just to -please other people.” - -He got up from his chair, and made his way out of the room with much -better grace than had the other two men. - -In a moment or two a man in livery, who seemed to have been waiting -somewhere close by until the convivial trio should disappear, came into -the room and began to clear away the remnants of the feast, as well as -the glasses and other paraphernalia that spoke of a carouse. - -He had not proceeded far in his work when another man, dressed just -like him, also stole into the room and silently assisted the first. - -When they had taken everything out of sight, including the tablecloth, -leaving the handsome mahogany table, with its highly polished surface, -glittering in the light of the chandelier, one of the men solemnly -addressed the other: - -“What do you think of it, Dobbs?” - -“Don’t know! How does it strike you, Kelly?” - -“I’ll tell you better at the end of the month.” - -“Ah! I could tell you now—if I wanted to,” blurted out Dobbs. - -“Better not. Don’t give yourself away,” interrupted Kelly. - -“Well, I say that if I don’t get my wages the day they’re due, it will -be a lawyer for mine.” - -“That’s different. The same here.” - -“Then you think it is——” - -“I’m not saying.” - -“Punk?” - -“Nothing doing!” - -“Hum! Let’s get out! There’s some good bottled beer downstairs.” - -“I’m with you,” responded Kelly, with alacrity. - -When they’d both gone out of the room, Chick again turned to his chief, -with a grin: - -“Isn’t this the queerest joint you ever struck, chief?” - -“It seems so. At the same time, I have more serious work here than to -speculate on the intentions of footmen, or even of the men who have -the privilege of drinking champagne ordered by my old friend, the late -Howard Milmarsh. I made him a promise the last time I saw him alive, -and I’m going to keep my word. Follow me, and I’ll show you something -more about this house that you may regard as curious.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - - GHOSTLY VISITANTS. - - -Wonderingly, Chick followed his employer along the dark corridor, -lighted at intervals by the electric flash, until they came to some -more winding stairs leading upward. - -“There seems to be a secret house within a house here, chief,” muttered -Chick. “A great place for ghosts, I should say.” - -Carter permitted himself a low laugh, and turned to place a hand on -Chick’s shoulder, as he replied: - -“Do you know, Chick, you have just about struck the nail on the head -without meaning it?” - -“I don’t get you.” - -“You will in a few minutes. Here we are!” - -They had gone up so many stairs that Chick had no clear idea of how -high they were in the house, when Carter pressed on the wall to his -right and opened a panel door like that which had admitted them to the -mysterious region they had been in for so long. - -This panel led into a large, lofty room, with the moonlight streaming -through a skylight. - -“What’s this, chief?” - -“This used to be Howard Milmarsh’s laboratory and studio,” was the -quiet answer. “It is at the top of the house, as you see, and there is -only one other way of reaching it besides that we came in by. That is -through the bedroom he used in his lifetime. It is on the floor below -this.” - -“Wonder whether the present Howard Milmarsh is in the same bedroom?” - -“I don’t know,” replied Nick. “But if he isn’t, he is sure to be in one -very near it, for the best bedchambers are all on the floor below this.” - -“Where do the servants sleep?” - -“In the west wing, some distance away from this part of the building. -But come over here. I may want some help.” - -There was a table and mirror against a wall across from the panel door, -with two electric lights each side of the glass. - -Chick turned on these lights without hesitation. He knew that the room -was so arranged that the light would not show outside, even if anybody -should happen to be watching, which was not at all likely. - -“Howard Milmarsh was deeply interested in theatricals,” explained -Nick. “He often had private performances in this house while his -wife was alive, and he always took part in them himself. This was his -dressing room. He used to ‘make-up’ here, and I suppose he had as fine -a collection of grease paint and other articles needed in a theatrical -dressing room as you could find anywhere in America to-day.” - -“But what are you going to do?” asked Chick. - -“I’m going to make myself look as much like the late Howard Milmarsh as -I can,” was the reply. “He always wore a mustache and pointed beard as -long as I knew him, and they were iron-gray toward the end of his life. -Here are the very things in this drawer.” - -Carter took some false beards and mustaches, and began to examine them, -occasionally twisting one to bring it to the desired shape. - -“Am I to take a hand in this?” asked Chick. - -“You certainly are, and you must not waste time, either. We’ve both to -be ready before midnight. You make-up like Howard Milmarsh, the present -one. There is a full wardrobe in those closets along the wall. You can -find anything you want. Just a plain sack suit is all you will need. -But there’s a black-and-white check that Howard used to wear a great -deal. Put that on. It’s distinctive.” - -It was five minutes to twelve when Nick Carter surveyed himself -critically in the mirror and decided he was enough like the father of -the present Howard Milmarsh to pass for him. Then he looked at his -assistant. He was much pleased, and he gave him the praise he felt he -deserved. - -“Excellent, Chick! Grease paint is a wonderful transformer—if you know -how to use it. You have changed all your features. When that fellow -downstairs sees you, he’ll think it’s himself.” - -“Or his ghost!” said Chick, with a smile. - -“Ghost!” repeated the chief. “That’s it exactly. Haven’t you wondered -what we are doing all this for?” - -“I supposed you had your reasons,” replied Chick humbly. - -“I have. I’m going to scare that fellow into telling the truth, if I -can. If he isn’t the real Howard Milmarsh, I’m in hopes I’ll make him -confess the fraud.” - -“But suppose he _is_ the real one, how will you work it then?” - -“That’s a question,” answered the detective soberly. “But I do not -expect to be called on to answer that. Now, put a little talcum powder -on your cheeks, so that you will look a little more ghostly.” - -“How about a smudge of phosphorus? Here’s some in this box. The old -gentleman certainly did not overlook anything.” - -“It might add still more ghostliness to the general effect,” assented -Nick. “Rub some on your cheeks and hands, and I will do the same.” - -Nick Carter had not exaggerated when he said that anybody seeing Chick -might think him the real Howard Milmarsh of the present day. - -He might have remarked that his own make-up was also perfect. If the -elder Milmarsh had been alive, anybody meeting the detective would have -declared him to be the multimillionaire steel manufacturer. - -A distant clock somewhere in the house, with deep, cathedral tones, -boomed out twelve strokes. - -“Midnight!” observed Nick. “Just the time for a ghostly visit.” - -He went to a door, which was fastened, like the others, by a secret -spring, and opened it wide. A narrow, winding staircase, of the -kind with which they had become familiar that night, led to a hall, -and along this a short walk brought them to a large door with heavy -portières in front. - -Howard Milmarsh, the elder, had been so intimate with the great -detective that he had told him more about the ways of his mansion than -he ever had confided to any one else. - -So Nick soon opened the door, and then another one beyond. - -“Stand still, Chick!” he whispered. “I must see whether he is in bed.” - -A moment later he returned to his assistant and whispered: - -“He is in bed and fast asleep. Do not speak a word unless I give you a -signal. Walk softly, and keep out of sight for the present.” - -Chick followed his chief into a large room which looked more like a -bedchamber of a hundred years ago than of to-day. - -Instead of the light furniture to which people are accustomed now, with -brass or mahogany bedstead and other articles to correspond, there was -an immense four-poster, with mahogany cornices, from which depended -thick hangings of purple velvet with lace lambrequins draped over them. - -A small electric light in a ground-glass globe hung over a table where -it would not shine in the face of an occupant of the bed, but which -relieved the gloom of the great, shadowy apartment. - -The man who might or might not be Howard Milmarsh lay asleep in -the bed. His potations had stupefied him to such an extent that he -slumbered heavily, his breath coming in long, stertorous snores, and he -did not move. - -Nick took from his pocket his electric flash, and, turning the light -full into the face of the sleeper, shook him gently and continuously. - -It required several seconds to bring the man to his waking senses, -and even then he was only half-conscious. Lazily opening his eyes, he -closed them quickly, for he had been blinded by the glaring eye of the -flash light. When, after a pause, he opened them again, the light was -gone. - -“Hello! What’s this?” he mumbled. “I must have been dreaming!” - -Satisfied that this was the explanation of the strange light he thought -he had seen, Howard Milmarsh composed himself to drop asleep again, -when a deep voice commanded him to “Awake!” - -He started up in bed and rubbed his eyes. - -“Heavens, I heard somebody speak!” he muttered. “Lampton or——” - -It was at this instant that he made out a shadowy form standing near -the bed, and as he stared the light of the flash was turned full upon -the figure of the ghostly visitor, and, traveling slowly upward, at -last came to the face of the elder Howard Milmarsh. Then the light was -blotted out, and the man in the bed, shaking with superstitious fear, -fell back upon his pillow. - -“Who are you?” asked the strange voice out of the gloom. - -Hardly knowing what he said, the man in the bed replied: - -“I am Howard Milmarsh. Who the deuce are you?” - -There was a touch of defiance in the last sentence that did more to -make Nick believe in the genuineness of this Howard Milmarsh than -anything else he might have said. But he remembered that a man who -would have the nerve to impersonate another to the extent of taking -possession of a large estate, with an eye to an immense fortune in -money later, would hardly be lacking in self-assurance. - -“I am your father, Howard Milmarsh, who desires to see his son come -into his rights. That is why I am here.” - -“Ah!” - -Nick realized that it would be impossible to frighten this rather cool -individual very long. At first, when he had been awakened from his -sleep in such a curious fashion, he had shown terror. But that was -passing away, and the detective expected that soon he would be called -on to deal with this young man in a material way, if at all. - -“This looks as if he might be the real Howard,” was his inward -comment. “Howard was never afraid of anything, and certainly he had no -superstition in his nature. He would be quite likely to send a bullet -through a ghost. Perhaps it is well this gentleman has no gun handy.” - -“If you are my son, you will be able to answer certain questions that I -shall put to you,” went on Nick. - -There was a pause. Then, in an incredulous tone, the young man in the -bed said: - -“I’ll answer any questions. But be honest about it, and don’t say you -said things you didn’t.” - -He had been edging away to the other side of the bed, and after the -first startled moment it struck the detective that the young man -was remarkably self-possessed, considering that he was talking to a -supposed ghost. - -“What did I say to you just before you went down to the Old Pike Inn -that night you killed Richard Jarvis?” - -The detective watched narrowly to see what effect his recalling Jarvis’ -death would have on the man who had killed him. - -He saw a decided start, and then the man in the bed fell upon his face -on the farther side of the bed, his face buried in the pillow. - -“What did I say?” repeated Nick, in hollow tones. - -He waited for a full quarter of a minute, during which the supposed -Howard Milmarsh writhed about the bed, with his face in the pillow. - -“Will you answer me?” - -“I can’t,” moaned the other. - -“Why not?” - -“Can’t you understand?” - -There was such agony in the voice that asked this that Nick was -puzzled. Surely it must be remorse that caused the alleged slayer to -groan in such utter despair. - -“You really are Howard Milmarsh?” asked Nick, after a pause. - -“Of course I am,” came the answer in muffled tones from the depths of -the pillow. “Why do you ask that?” - -“Look up—and see!” - -Before Nick said this he beckoned to Chick. When Howard Milmarsh slowly -lifted his face from the pillow and turned it toward the other side of -the bed his eyes rested upon what might have been the reflection of -himself in the clothing he had worn on the night of the fatal poker -party at the Old Pike Inn. - -For an instant he gazed at the figure of Howard Milmarsh, with its -creeping flames on the cheeks—for Chick had not been sparing of his -phosphorus—and a muffled shriek sprang from his lips. - -Then, as Carter opened his mouth to speak, there was a loud noise -outside the room, and a door at the farther end crashed open! - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII. - - A FIGHT IN THE DARK. - - -Two men came surging into the room just as Nick and his assistant -backed away into the shadows behind the bed curtains. - -“The light, Chick!” whispered Carter. - -Chick understood, and instantly snapped out the electric light in the -ground-glass globe on the table, putting the room in black darkness. - -They could hear somebody padding about without shoes not far away, and -they knew that Howard Milmarsh had jumped from the bed and was ready to -fight. - -It was no part of the detective’s plan to have an open battle with this -young man, however. Whether he were the real Howard Milmarsh or not, -the detective did not desire to let him know who was on his track. He -might guess, but he shouldn’t _know_, if it could be helped. - -Nick Carter had been in this bedchamber before, in the lifetime of the -elder Milmarsh, and he remembered where the switch was that controlled -the whole lighting of the room. - -Taking out his jackknife and feeling his way to a certain part of the -wall behind him, he put the electrical connection out of business with -a skillful twist. He knew there could be no light in the bedchamber now -unless one were brought in from outside. - -As he jumped back from the disabled switch, he heard the padding feet -moving toward it, followed, an instant later, by a muffled oath in the -tones of the young man from the bed. - -“Fooled him!” muttered Nick. - -Suddenly there arose a terrific racket across the room, and he knew -that Chick had come into collision with one of the two men who had come -in, at least. - -“Get out, you monkey!” growled Chick in a disguised tone. “Here’s one -for you!” - -A crash told the detective that Chick had floored his assailant, but -a quick renewal of the battle was indicated by more noise, with the -panting of two men in desperate contest. - -It was at this moment that a sinewy arm was thrown around the -detective’s neck from behind, while a knee was thrust into his back. -The assailant evidently understood the gentle art of garroting, for he -pulled hard while he pressed his knee harder against the detective’s -back. - -There could be only one result to an attack like this, made suddenly -and unexpectedly—Nick Carter had to let himself go to the floor. - -As he did so his adversary was on top of him, trying to hold him down -and obtain a grip on his throat. - -This was something different, however. Nick had no intention of -allowing such a liberty to be taken with him. He had yielded to the -garrote, because it was the only thing to be done. Now, however, when -he had a fair chance, things wore another aspect. - -He rolled over like a panther, and in a second had his assailant by the -collar of his pajamas. It was not the detective’s desire to hurt the -young man. The thing was to escape from the bedchamber without being -recognized. - -It was hardly likely that his identity was suspected. His disguise was -so good that nothing of his real personality could show through it, and -no one in the house had any reason to suppose he and Chick were near -Milmarsh. - -The two men who had crashed into the room—and who had been summoned by -an electric bell sounded by a push button from the bed—were the two -liveried men—Kelly and Dobbs—who had cleared away the cloth and glasses -from the dining table, but who were without their coats when they broke -in. - -It was these two men with whom Chick was engaged in the darkness while -his chief dealt with the occupant of the bed. - -“You’ll spring ghosts on me, will you?” mumbled Nick’s adversary, -trying to break loose. “I’ll give you something that will make you wish -you were a ghost.” - -Nick was obliged to admire the pluck and determination of the man. It -seemed to him just what the real Howard Milmarsh would do, and it made -the affair more complicated than ever to his mind. - -There was a second crash at the other end of the room, followed by a -grunt of satisfaction which Nick knew was in the tone of his assistant -and which indicated that he was the victor. - -But he could not say anything, for fear of betraying himself. He had -resolved that, at all odds, he must hide from this man who was fighting -so hard to get away from him that he had been followed into his very -bedroom by one who was resolved that the actual Howard Milmarsh should -have his rights. - -“Somebody coming outside!” Chick squealed, hiding his real voice most -effectively. “Which way?” - -“The same!” thundered his chief, in a husky bass entirely unlike his -own voice. “Hurry!” - -He had been obliged to speak at last, but he did not think his tones -had revealed who he was. - -There was no time for consideration. The disturbance in the -room—particularly the falling to the floor of the two servants under -the impact of Chick’s hard and skillfully used fists—had awakened the -two rascals who had been carousing in the dining room, and they were -coming to see what the fuss was about. - -Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton were both seasoned drinkers. When they -staggered out of the dining room and into the elevator, both were well -steeped in wine. Many men in such a condition would have slept through -any disturbance. - -But these were not of that kind. Powers awoke first, and, getting -into some of his clothing, went to the next room to get Lampton out. -Then the two went along the hall to see what was going on in Howard -Milmarsh’s bedroom. - -It would not have mattered so much to Carter about these men coming if -they had been in the dark. But each one had lighted a candle—placed in -their room so that they could have a light for cigars—and these candles -gave light enough for them to see where they were going. - -As soon as Nick knew that others were coming to the room, and that -they bore lights with them, he felt that he must act quickly to escape -recognition. - -“Now we’ll have you, and find out what the game is!” chuckled the -supposed Howard Milmarsh, as he pushed Nick a little backward. “I’ll -tell you a ghost story of my own before I’m through.” - -This boasting assertion was the last he had the opportunity of making. -Stooping and catching the young man around the waist, the stalwart -detective lifted him from the floor and hurled him clear across the bed -to the floor beyond. - -As he fell, his head struck the wall, and he doubled up, unconscious. - -Nick did not trouble himself to find out whether the man was hurt badly -or not. There was no time. Instead, he felt in the bed for pillows, and -grabbed up two of them. - -“The door! Get!” he shouted, but carefully disguising his voice in a -sort of squeak. “You know where it is. I’ll attend to these others!” - -Chick had seen the two men coming along the hall, and had recognized -them. Before he could obey his chief and retreat, they had seen him, -and Louden Powers cried out hastily: - -“What’s the game, Howard? Why aren’t you undressed? Is it the jimjams -you have? Say, young fellow, you ought to let the wine alone after -this. It’s too much for that bean of yours. You’re not used to it. Get -into bed and sleep. That will give the rest of us a chance. Holy blue! -Have you been knocking the butlers down, too? Say, this is going to -make trouble. None of ’em will stay with us, and they’ll be wanting -their pay before they will get out, too!” - -Louden Powders was advancing, with Lampton, as he said all this, and -both men were in the bedroom, candles and all. - -Nick did not give them time to say anything more, and he stopped their -further progress into the room in a most effective fashion. - -He hurled the two pillows, one after the other, at each candle, sending -them both flying out of the hands of their holders and plunging the -room again into black darkness. - -Before he had thrown the pillows he saw that Chick had reached the part -of the wall where the secret panel door was situated, and he knew that -a simple pressure in the right spot would provide them both with an -exit. - -His aim was true with the pillows. Notwithstanding that he was hidden -from the two rascals by the bed hangings, and that he had to hurl the -pillows nearly the whole length of the room, he sent each straight to -its mark, and neither Louden Powers nor Andrew Lampton saw where they -came from. - -No sooner was the apartment in darkness than Carter rushed over to -where Chick stood and seized him by the arm. - -“Do we beat it now?” whispered Chick. - -“Yes! Quick!” - -The secret panel swung open, and the chief shoved his assistant ahead -of him through the opening. Ere he could follow, he heard Louden -Powers’ voice remarking, with a shiver: - -“What’s that? A window open? Hurry, Lampton! He’s getting out that way! -Come on! We’ll fool him yet!” - -Nick slipped through the narrow doorway made by the opening of the -panel, and, as he closed it softly, he whispered to his assistant, with -a low laugh: - -“Looks to me as if they are the persons who are fooled!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII. - - THE ELDER JARVIS. - - -Although the adventure had not turned out as satisfactorily as he could -have wished, Nick felt that he had made some gain toward getting at the -truth with regard to the identity of Howard Milmarsh. - -The conspirators knew that they were watched, and whether this young -man whom they seemed to be leading by the nose was the real heir or -not, they had been made aware that they would not have it all their own -way without investigation by other parties. - -It was while they were removing the make-up and costumes they had worn -in the characters of the two Howard Milmarshes that Carter and his -assistant discussed the probability of this being the actual young -Howard, after all. - -“The preponderance of evidence is on his side, I must confess,” -declared Nick, as he finished dressing in his own clothes, after -removing all the grease paint and false hair from his face, as well as -the iron-gray wig he had worn as the elder Milmarsh. “He looks like -Howard, has the same voice, and certainly fights like him.” - -“And yet you can’t quite believe in him?” - -“Not quite. If only the Howard Milmarsh who is sick in the Universal -Hospital would get well, there would be little trouble in deciding -positively whether he or this one who has possession of the place is -the true one. It is a curious case—and as puzzling a one as I ever -attacked.” - -“What are we going to do now?” asked Chick. - -“You are right, Chick,” smiled his chief. “That is getting right down -to business. Well, I think we’ll go back to the Old Pike Inn and get -some sleep. There will be a busy day for us to-morrow.” - -“All days are busy—especially since we took up this Howard Milmarsh -case,” observed Chick, smiling. - -“That’s true. Well, come on, and don’t make a noise as you move along. -There are listening ears on the other side of the wall, remember.” - -They made their way out of the Milmarsh mansion without discovery, and -in due time reached the Old Pike Inn, where they went to bed and slept -till the morning was fairly well advanced. - -Indeed, they were still at breakfast in the private dining room into -which Captain Brown had led them, so that none of the other guests -should see them, when the captain came in and told them that Thomas -Jarvis was in the office and wanted to see Mr. Carter. - -“Thomas Jarvis! Do you mean Richard Jarvis’ father?” - -“Yes. He has been living here in the inn for a month past. He must have -seen you come in or go out, and recognized you. Those raincoats and -caps are pretty good, but a man who knows you and could get a good look -at your face would know you in spite of them.” - -“Well, you may as well show him in here,” answered Nick. “I believe I -know what he is after.” - -In ten minutes Thomas Jarvis had visited the detective, told his -story, and been dismissed. He had come to say that, as Howard Milmarsh -had not appeared to claim the property of his late father, it came -automatically to the Jarvis branch, and as he, Thomas, was the only -living Jarvis, of course it was his. - -“You know that Howard Milmarsh _has_ appeared, and that he is living in -the Milmarsh residence at this very time?” asked Carter. - -“I know that a man calling himself Howard Milmarsh is there,” was the -reply. - -“You don’t believe he is the real man, then?” - -“I didn’t say so.” - -“Your tone said it,” was the detective’s rejoinder. - -“Do you believe he is the real Howard Milmarsh?” asked Thomas Jarvis. - -“Unless another one should turn up with a better claim, I have no right -to doubt it.” - -“Well, I more than doubt it,” declared Jarvis roughly. “I am the heir -at law of this property, and I’m going to have it.” - -“I wish you luck,” returned Nick. - -With the exception of formal “Good mornings!” that was all of the -interview, and Thomas Jarvis retired. - -“This puts a new twist into the case,” laughed Nick, when the door -closed. “Is it not strange that, with a great fortune like the Milmarsh -estate, to say nothing of the wonderful steel-manufacturing business -that goes with it, there should be at least one claimant outside of -these two Howard Milmarshes. But I wouldn’t give much for Thomas -Jarvis’ chance.” - -“He’s the fellow who killed his son accidentally, isn’t he?” asked -Chick. - -“Not so bad as that, although Richard Jarvis was killed while -quarreling with his father. He stumbled over something as he was about -to strike his father, and fell, with his head against an iron fender. -If he were still alive, I suppose he would be claiming to be Howard -Milmarsh’s heir.” - -“Are we going back to New York to-day?” asked Chick. - -“Yes. There is nothing to be done here. Until we can bring the poor -fellow in the Universal to his senses, I don’t see much hope of coming -to a decision. And that may never be, according to one of the nurses -who has been watching the patient.” - -“Doctor Grayson doesn’t say so, does he?” - -“The doctor is away from the city, unfortunately. He has been called -to attend a wealthy and influential patient of his in Chicago. But -he’ll be in New York to-morrow, I’m told, and then I may obtain some -dependable information.” - -But the detective and Chick did not go to New York that day. -Circumstances arose to prevent them of a nature that neither had -anticipated. - -They were still in the room in which they had breakfasted and had their -interview with Thomas Jarvis, when Captain Brown, after a hasty knock, -burst into the room with excitement flaming out all over him. - -“Carter! What do you think?” - -“I don’t know. What is it?” - -“They’re here!” spluttered the captain. - -“Who? What’s the trouble?” - -“The Paradise City people!” - -“Upon my word, I don’t know what you’re driving at, Captain Brown,” -returned Nick, somewhat impatiently. “Who are the Paradise City people?” - -Captain Brown had cooled down a little by this time, and he took a seat -and fanned himself with his hat for a few moments, as he pointed to the -window. - -Chick stepped over and looked out. - -“Well, what’s broken loose?” - -Before he could answer, there was another knock at the door. In -quick response to the detective’s “Come in!” a young man, also in -considerable excitement, surged into the apartment. - -The young man was Patsy Garvan! - -“Say, chief, I been wanting to get to you, but I thought I’d better -wait till I knew you’d want me.” - -“Well?” - -“There’s going to be merry hilltop to pay at Milmarsh’s to-day, and we -ought to get busy, or there won’t be any house for Howard Milmarsh to -take when he does prove his rights.” - -“What do you know about it, Patsy?” put in Chick. “I see a big mob of -people going up the road—men and women—and they look ugly.” - -“They are ugly. See that big fellow at the head of the procession in a -blue sweater? Know who he is?” - -Chick peered harder at the disorderly gathering making its way up the -winding road toward the gates of the Milmarsh estate. But the big man -had gone too far for sure recognition. - -“Looks as if it might be Bonesy Billings!” said Chick. “It’s about his -build, and I know he has bought property in the Paradise City place.” - -“You’ve hit it, Chick,” nodded Patsy. “It is Bonesy, and he’s hotter’n -the inside of a coke oven. He’s got on to the fact that this isn’t any -more than a swamp, and he’s come up here to have it out with the guys -that sold him the plot.” - -“How about the manager and his men at the office in New York, Patsy?” -asked Nick. - -“The office is busted up and the men are gone. I’m told they only hired -the furniture there, so they didn’t have to move it. They paid up -everything in the way of rent and for the furniture two days ago, and -beat it for—for—Paradise, I guess,” laughed Patsy. - -“They paid up everything, you say?” - -“Everything about the office. You can bet they were slick enough to do -that. They didn’t want to have any more publicity than they could help. -If they’d tried to beat the office rent or the furniture hire, they’d -have been followed up here to Milmarsh, and that would have meant a -fuss for the other guys who are living high in that big house on the -hill.” - -“You mean the Milmarsh residence?” asked Captain Brown. - -“Sure, that’s what I mean,” replied Patsy. “It’s the only big house on -a hill around here that I know anything about. Gee! Look at that bunch -going up the road. There’s nearly a hundred of them.” - -“And women among them,” remarked Captain Brown. - -“Sure! That’s what’s going to make it so hard on the other side. -The women have helped to save the money that’s gone into that phony -real-estate, and they’re going to get back their coin or bust somebody. -You can bet your bottom dollar on that!” - -“Who is at the back of all this swindle?” asked Captain Brown. “Do you -know, Carter?” - -“I know only what is apparent to everybody,” was the detective’s -answer. “The property is on the Milmarsh estate, and there is a Howard -Milmarsh living on it at present. The advertisements of Paradise City -say that the long-lost heir is back to his own, and that he means -to give people of limited means an opportunity to find homes in the -country. You’ve seen the booklets, haven’t you, captain?” - -“Yes, but I thought you might know something more than they made -public. Advertisements are splendid things in their way, and as a rule -they are truthful. But exaggeration will creep into them occasionally, -and often there are details which the writer of the advertisement -forgot to put in.” - -“That’s what Bonesy Billings says,” remarked Patsy. “He told me that -coming up on the train.” - -“Oh, you came up from New York with this crowd, then?” asked Nick. - -“Yes—those that came from New York. Some of ’em live at places along -the railroad. There’s a bunch from Yonkers, for instance, and others -from the Bronx. But they are all here.” - -“How was it worked up?” asked Chick, smiling, for he knew Patsy had the -whole matter in his head. - -“They’ve been having meetings for more than a week,” explained Patsy. -“I heard about them two days ago, and I’ve been to two of the meetings. -They were hot stuff, I’m telling you. Some of the speakers were in -favor of coming up here with dynamite bombs and blowing everything to -blazes.” - -“You mean the Milmarsh house?” queried Captain Brown. - -“I mean everything up here. The Old Pike Inn was to go, too, because -some of them say it harbors men who are mixed up in this swindle to rob -poor people of their savings.” - -“Is that so?” exclaimed Captain Brown, more interested than ever. “Look -here, Carter! We can’t let this go on! We’ll have to take a hand in it. -You will go up to the house with me, won’t you?” - -“I intended to go up there,” was the quiet reply. “Can we use your big -motor car?” - -“Of course. I’ll have it got ready at once. Then we can take a -roundabout way and get to the house before the mob.” - -“That was what I calculated on,” returned the detective. - -Captain Brown hustled out of the room to order his car, while Nick -gazed out of the window at the excited mob of both sexes on their way -to the Milmarsh mansion. - -“We shall have to save the property at all events, Chick,” he remarked, -without turning around. “The rightful heir must not have his place -destroyed before he has time to settle down.” - -“Have you found the rightful heir, chief?” asked Patsy Garvan eagerly. - -“I believe I have,” was the detective’s calm reply. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX. - - THE INSURGENTS. - - -While Nick Carter and his two assistants were waiting for the motor car -that was to take them up to the Milmarsh home ahead of the crowd of -angry purchasers of Paradise City property there was increasing wrath -among the men and women following Bonesy Billings. - -“We’ll burn the place down over his head!” yelled one frantic woman, -who had given up every cent her late husband had left her to make a -payment on Paradise City. “Any man who would rob a poor widow ain’t fit -to live.” - -“Kill him first and burn down the house with his carcass in it!” -screamed another feminine voice. - -“Louden Powers! He’s the one!” roared a big man. - -“He ain’t no worse than Andrew Lampton!” declared another. - -“Kill Howard Milmarsh! He’s the worst!” shrieked the woman who had -spoken first—the widow. “If he had any of the goodness of his father in -him, he couldn’t have done it.” - -“What are we waitin’ for, Bonesy?” demanded a man nearly as big as -himself, who acted as a sort of lieutenant. “Ain’t we goin’ right up -there?” - -“Yes, but we want to know what we’re goin’ to do when we’re there,” -returned Billings. “Things has to be did reg’lar an’ up to the handle. -These mugs we’re goin’ to see is mighty slick. Don’t forget that.” - -“Ain’t slick enough to rob us!” shouted the widow. - -“They’ve did it already,” cried the other woman. - -“Yes, but we’re goin’ to get our money back, an’ take it out of ’em by -lickin’ ’em, too,” growled a man who had not spoken heretofore. - -“If you guys will keep still a minute, I’d like to address the -meeting,” announced Bonesy Billings, somewhat pompously. - -“Good ol’ Bonesy!” enthusiastically shouted a young fellow in the -background. “Let him spiel!” - -“Shut up!” ordered Bonesy ungraciously. “This here ain’t your put-in -nohow.” - -“Scuse me!” rejoined the other, with a sarcastic inflection that -he would not have dared to employ if he’d been nearer the powerful -Billings. “It was in my nut that I had the floor. Scuse me!” - -Bonesy Billings cast a look of disgust in the direction of the rather -“fresh” young man in the rear. Then he cleared his throat for a speech, -with a loud and impressive “Hem!” - -“Feller citizens—an’ ladies!” he began. “It has been decided that we -has all been soaked good an’ hard by the mugs what is up in that house -on the hill—the same as is knowed by all on us as the Milmarsh mansion.” - -“Good stuff!” interrupted the irrepressible man at the back of the -gathering. - -“I’ll come over an’ paste you in the jaw if you don’t shut up!” menaced -Billings. Then, resuming his oratorical tone, he continued: “We have -tried to get satisfaction at the office in N’ York, an’ we’ve been told -ev’rything will come out all right, though we can see it won’t. The -fellers at the office has beat it for parts unknown, an’ what have we?” - -“Swamp!” cried the regular interrupter at the back. - -“That’s right,” agreed Billings. “It is jest swamp, an’ sech swamp you -couldn’t dry it out in a million years, nor fill it in, nuther. As for -buildin’ houses there, it couldn’t be did. Yet we’ve paid out our good -money for this here swamp land, an’ now the guys that beat us out of -our coin is laughin’ at us. What are we goin’ to do about it?” - -“Kill ’em!” shouted the widow. - -“With hatpins,” added the other woman. - -“We ain’t goin’ to take chances on the ’lectric chair—unless they make -us,” returned Billings. “But we are goin’ right into the house an’ -demand our money back. If we don’t git it, then we will——” - -Bonesy Billings flourished a long, powerful arm, and there was a -bludgeon in his grip. - -There could be no doubt as to what he intended. His hard face was set, -and he meant business. - -He did not continue his harangue. He looked over the stern faces of his -followers, and he knew that they would stand by him to the end. They -felt that they had suffered the worst kind of injustice and that no -punishment would be too great for the men guilty of it. - -It was only about a week before that suspicion began to ripen into -conviction. There had been mumblings among those who could not get to -see the places they had bought. They wanted to know what they had to -show for their money besides the gaudy “certificates” that had been -issued by the Paradise City Improvement Company. - -There were no real signatures on the certificates. Such names as were -there had not been written. They were facsimiles of signatures that no -one recognized. Neither “Powers,” “Lampton,” or “Howard Milmarsh” were -among them. This omission had been pointed out in the meetings that had -been held. Bonesy Billings laid particular stress on this. He also had -his eye on other details which did not appeal to him as sound. - -For example, he had known the young man who lay in Universal Hospital -very well, and had liked him. To Billings he was known as Bob Gordon. -But Billings knew that Bessie Silvius and her father, old Roscoe -Silvius, declared that he was really Howard Milmarsh. If this Bob -Gordon could only tell what he knew, it might straighten out the -Paradise City affair. Billings could not see how anybody else had a -right to the name of Howard Milmarsh and to sell land belonging to the -estate. - -He turned to look again at his followers. He had taken his place on a -large stump at the side of the road when he made his speech, and he was -still there when he decided to send forth a last word of direction and -warning. - -“It’s near two mile up to the front door of the Milmarsh house,” he -told them in his stentorian tones. “You’d better walk in reg’lar double -formation—that is, two by two. Me an’ Kid Plang,” indicating his -stalwart lieutenant, “will lead. Keep yer lamps on us, an’ be ready to -take orders as I give ’em. We’ve got to have discerpline if we’re goin’ -to git anywhere. Don’t fail to remember that there. Forward! March!” - -Steadily the double column moved on. The road was smooth, and, though -it was uphill, no one seemed to mind it. All were keyed up for action, -and thought only of obtaining recompense for what they paid out and -suffered as the result of what, they were now convinced, was nothing -but a heartless fraud. - -Up the winding carriage drive they marched, and soon were gathered on -the wide porch in front of the tall, forbidding-looking house. - -Every window was closed and protected by sun blinds. The outer door, -which usually stood open, was also closed. There were no signs of life -to be seen. - -Yet Bonesy Billings was convinced that there were eyes behind those sun -blinds which had taken careful note of their approach. He knocked at -the door with his knuckles at the same time that his lieutenant, Kid -Plang, rang the electric bell again and again. - -For several minutes there was no response. Then suddenly a voice hailed -them from above, and they saw that Andrew Lampton was at an open window -at the third-story. - -“What do you want, gentlemen?” he asked suavely. - -“Ah, can that ‘gentlemen’ stuff!” shouted the lieutenant. “We want to -come in for a conference.” - -“What about?” - -“You know what about well enough,” roared Bonesy Billings. “Where’s -Howard Milmarsh?” - -“He’s here. But he is not saying anything. I’ll do the talking—if there -is to be any.” - -“Well, you can bet there’s going to be talking! We want our money back -that’s been paid for those plots in Paradise City.” - -“You do? Why?” - -“Because the whole thing is a swindle!” replied Billings. “That’s why!” - -“You’re mistaken. Paradise City is there, and as soon as Howard -Milmarsh has settled certain details connected with the estate, -buildings will go up and you will all have the homes, as agreed.” - -“We’re coming in,” declared Billings doggedly. “We can’t talk business -standin’ out here.” - -“You can’t come in. Mr. Milmarsh would not care to have so many people -walking over his carpets and rugs. I’ve told you all there is to tell. -Now I’ll say good morning!” - -A clod of earth was hurled by somebody in the crowd. It smashed itself -against the wall, by the side of the window, not more than a foot from -Andrew Lampton’s head. He drew it in quickly, closing the window. - -“Give him another!” screamed the widow. “Send a stone up there and -smash the glass. He’s only tryin’ to put us off.” - -“Shet up!” ordered Billings. “I’m runnin’ this thing. Don’t nobody -chuck anything at the house unless I tell you to.” - -Billings was so big, and his habit of having his own way gave him such -command, that several men who had taken stones from their pockets they -had picked up on the way put them back. - -“What are we goin’ to do, Bonesy?” asked Kid Plang, in a low tone. - -“We’ll rush that front door if somebody don’t come out and give us -satisfaction,” replied Bonesy. “Look! There’s somebody else at the -window. Wait a moment, and let’s see what he’s goin’ to do.” - -It was Louden Powers this time. He opened the window at which Lampton -had appeared, and called out sharply: - -“Look here, you people! There’s nothing to be made by your coming up -here making a disturbance.” - -“We’re not making a disturbance,” interrupted Billings. “We want to see -Mr. Milmarsh.” - -“You can’t see him. Is that all?” - -“No; it isn’t all by a jugful!” snapped back Bonesy Billings, trying to -hold back his wrath. “We’ve been beaten on this Paradise City deal, and -we are goin’ to find out what Howard Milmarsh means to do about it.” - -“I can tell you that,” replied Powers. “He is going to see that every -one gets what is right. There is no reason for you to say you have been -beaten. You have not. Paradise City is all right—that is, it will be.” - -“We want to see Howard Milmarsh,” repeated Billings resolutely. - -“You can’t see him. And if you don’t get away from here and go back -to where you came from, there’s going to be a lot of arrests and some -clubbing, most likely. We’ve telephoned the police, and they’ll soon be -here.” - -With this threat, Louden Powers suddenly pulled the outside sun blinds -shut, and directly afterward Billings and his followers heard the -window come down with a slam. - -“Well, boys! There’s only one thing to be done now. The front door, -and—altogether!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXX. - - NICK CARTER’S WORD. - - -While the threat about the police caused some of the more timid spirits -in the crowd to hang back and even talk of going home, the majority -were determined to fight their way into the house at all hazards. - -“We’ll git there, if everybody joins in!” proclaimed Billings. “As many -men as can squeeze in help me to push down this door.” - -But the door was heavy and solidly bolted in place, and the combined -strength of half a dozen powerful men was insufficient to force it from -its hinges on one side or its fastenings on the other. - -“We’ll keep on till we do it,” was Billings’ decision, and the attack -was renewed. - -Meanwhile, there was a decided feeling of apprehension inside the -house. Andrew Lampton, Louden Powers, and the man whom they called -Howard Milmarsh were all in the bedroom which had been occupied by -Louden, which was at the front of the house, and at whose window had -taken place the parley with Bonesy Billings. - -“I’ve got the outside blinds bolted,” announced Louden Powers, “and the -window is closed. Of course, if ever they got through the sunblinds, -they could easily smash the window. My idea is to fight them off as -they come in. We can’t hope that the house is strong enough in itself -to keep them out. It is not a castle.” - -“Can’t we make some terms with them?” suggested the alleged Howard. - -Louden Powers turned on him with a snarl. - -“What for? And how are you going to do it? Do you want to give up your -thousand dollars?” - -“I might not have to do that.” - -“Yes, you would. And they would expect Lampton and me to do the same. -Well, I won’t do it. Neither will Lampton. All we can do is to keep -these people out till the police get here.” - -“You haven’t telephoned the police, have you?” asked Lampton, with a -look of alarm. - -Louden Powers contrived to wink at Lampton, while, in a loud tone, he -replied: - -“Of course I have. We may not be able to hold off this crowd ourselves, -and we’ve got to have the police. You can see that, Howard.” - -“I don’t see anything, except that you have got me into an infernal -scrape with your Paradise City idea. What is the use of it, just for a -little ready money now, when we shall have plenty of it as soon as the -estate is settled. I was a fool to give in to you.” - -“I don’t know that,” put in Lampton. “Things are getting mighty hot in -this house, and I’m inclined to get away from it while the going is -good. What was the meaning of all that fuss last night? Who were those -two men who looked so much like the two Howard Milmarshes?” - -“I don’t know who the old man was. But it’s my belief the other was the -fellow who got hurt in that fire and who says he is the real Howard -Milmarsh. It couldn’t have been anybody else.” - -“Well, how do you suppose he got into your bedroom?” - -“There’s only one way to account for it, and that is that Nick Carter -had a hand in it. He has been trying to beat me out of this property -with that fellow who is in the hospital, and it may be that his man has -recovered enough to come here.” - -“Got his memory back, eh?” - -“I don’t know about that. He could be brought here to scare me without -that. He didn’t speak last night—only looked at me.” - -“He was quite a scrapper,” observed Lampton. - -“Well, he could be that and still not have all his senses about him,” -maintained the other. - -“I’ll tell you one thing, fellows,” suddenly broke in the possessor -of the Milmarsh mansion. “I’m just about sick of this whole thing. It -looks to me as if I’m the scapegoat, while you get all the profit. I’m -going to give up. There’s too much trouble in trying to prove that I am -the rightful heir. I’d rather be poor, and worry along as I have done -for years than take all this that I’ve gone through with since I’ve -been up in this devilish house.” - -“What’s the matter with you? Are you——” - -“Yes,” broke in the young man violently. “I’m going to give the whole -game away. I don’t care what you say. I’m not going to take the chance -of five years in the pen just to——” - -“Oh, shut up!” broke in Louden in his usual masterful way. “You have to -do what you’re told. You are the heir to the Milmarsh fortune. We’ve -proved that for you. Now you talk about backing out, just because you -have not nerve to hold on to what is your own. You make me sick!” - -“Here! Quit fighting over that!” broke in Andrew Lampton, running into -the room from the landing, where he had been listening to the noise -outside. “Those fellows have broken down the outer door, and they are -coming in. They won’t have much trouble forcing the inner door, for -that’s half glass.” - -There was a crash of glass below, which told that the mob had made its -way into the house. - -“Where is he?” roared the voice of Bonesy Billings. “Bring him down! We -want him!” - -Already they could hear the rumbling of many feet upon the lower floor, -when a clear, ringing voice rose far above the din. - -“Stop!” - -It was the voice of Nick Carter. - -It seemed as if his voice had some power far above that wielded by the -order of authority. The men on the third-story heard the mob actually -falling back and stumbling down the stairs. - -“How did _he_ get in here?” growled Louden Powers. - -“Didn’t come in with the mob, did he?” suggested Lampton. - -“I told you,” gasped the man they called Howard Milmarsh. “I knew this -man, Carter, was in it. He brought those two people into my bedroom -last night when I had been drinking so much that my nerve was nearly -gone. I was sure of it! He told me some time ago he’d get me if I -didn’t act square. Now I know I haven’t been square with him, and here -he is.” - -“Well, he’s taking our side, you idiot!” grumbled Powers. “He’s holding -them back.” - -“He has his own purposes to serve if he is. Look here, Louden, I’m -going to tell him just what is the truth.” - -“Howard Milmarsh,” broke in Andrew Lampton. “You’re crazy. All this -bother over your estate has turned your brain. Isn’t that so, Louden?” - -“Of course. But, listen!” - -“We want Howard Milmarsh!” they heard Bonesy Billings shout. “He’s -robbed us, and we want him.” - -Nick Carter had come out of one of the rooms on the second floor and -now stood at the head of the lower flight of stairs, with Chick and -Patsy Garvan on either side of him. All three were looking down at the -mob with a coolness that caused even the excited men and women below -them to wonder. - -“You can’t have Howard Milmarsh,” said Carter. “Bonesy Billings, you -know me, don’t you?” - -Billings came a step nearer, so that he could look into the face of the -detective. Then he uttered an ejaculation of astonishment. - -“Mr. Carter!” - -“Yes. And this is Chick by my side. You know him, and Patsy Garvan!” - -“Sure I do!” - -“Say, Bonesy,” put in Kid Plang behind impatiently, “what’s all this -guff you’re giving us? Who are these guys? None of ’em is Howard -Milmarsh. I know that. And they ain’t Louden Powers nor Andrew Lampton, -either, I’m willing to bet. Lead us up them stairs if you’re goin’ to. -If not, I’ll do it!” - -Kid Plang tried to push past Billings. One sweep of Bonesy’s powerful -arm sent him down among the others in a disgruntled heap. - -There was a hubbub of shouting and grumbling, and Bonesy turned to -shake his fist at them as he bellowed: - -“Shut up down there, or I’ll come an’ lick some of you! Can’t you see -I’m talking to a gentleman for the benefit of all of us?” - -“It don’t look like it,” growled Plang, as, he got to his feet, but -carefully kept out of reach of Bonesy’s arm and fist. - -“Now, Mr. Carter,” went on Billings, addressing the detective, “I know -you are square, and so are them two with you. But we’ve come here to -get back the money what’s been stole from widders an’ orphans an’ -workin’ men who have had to work hard for everything they have. The -money was stole on the pretense that there was a fine tract of land on -this estate what was to be sold on easy terms for homes.” - -“I know that’s true,” remarked Nick quietly. - -“What do you suppose he’s getting at?” muttered Lampton to Powers on -the upper landing. - -“Listen, and we’ll find out. Then we’ll know what to do.” - -Louden Powers spoke calmly. He was much the bolder rascal of the two. -His iron nerve it was that had brought the plot to its present point. -He did not despair yet of putting it through to entire success. - -“We’ve looked into this thing, and we find the land is nothing but -swamp, and it wouldn’t be possible to build houses on it—at least, not -till thousands of dollars had been spent on draining it and filling it -in. There ain’t no sign as these ducks what have our money mean to do -any such thing.” - -“Well?” - -“Then we’re going to see this Howard Milmarsh and make him give back -our money first of all. After that we’ll sue him for damages. There’s -good lawyers in New York what will take our cases and not ask no fee -unless they win for us. An’ we’d be sure to win, so we’re goin’ up here -to find this Howard Milmarsh—if you’ll step out of our way, Mr. Carter.” - -“That’s the talk!” called out somebody in the heart of the crowd. “Take -us to Howard Milmarsh!” - -“Howard Milmarsh is not here,” said the detective in loud, clear tones. - -“What?” blurted out Billings. “Not here? We have had positive word that -he is in this house.” - -“Look here, Bonesy,” returned Nick, still in a quiet, distinct voice, -“did you ever know me to say a thing that was not absolutely true?” - -“Never,” was the unhesitating testimony. - -“Then, I tell you, Howard Milmarsh is not in this house. Do you believe -me?” - -There was a moment of silence. The crowd below and the three men on the -third floor, at the top of the stairs, were waiting for what Bonesy -Billings would say. At last came the response: - -“_I believe you, Mr. Carter._” - -The man who stood between Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton, and whom -they had persistently addressed as Howard Milmarsh, made a movement as -if he would go down the stairs. - -The other two dragged him back savagely. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI. - - NICK CALLS A COUNCIL. - - -The trouble was not over yet, however. The emphatic manner in which -Bonesy Billings had said he believed the detective made a great -impression upon the majority of his followers. - -But there were some who were not prepared to accept the dictum in the -face of what they had been told. It was common report that Howard -Milmarsh was living in the house he had inherited from his father, and -that he was there now. For some reason it seemed that the detective was -trying to shield him. - -Few of those in the mob had not heard of the famous detective, and all -knew his reputation for straightforwardness. They were fully aware that -a falsehood would be simply impossible for him. Still, how could they -reconcile what he had just said with what they believed to be their -actual knowledge? - -“Look here, Bonesy!” ventured Plang while discreetly remaining out of -arm’s reach. “If Howard Milmarsh isn’t in the house, we can’t do any -harm by going up to talk to those other two men. We know they are here.” - -“That’s a good idea!” agreed three or four voices at the back. - -“What about it, Bonesy?” - -Billings looked inquiringly at Carter. - -“It would do no good,” said the detective. “The men you refer to would -not give you any satisfaction, and they would probably mislead you. If -you will go away now, I will give you my personal pledge that you shall -not lose anything over this Paradise City affair. You shall have back -the money you have laid out, and with it enough to compensate for any -loss or trouble you have suffered.” - -“I don’t see how you can guarantee that,” grumbled Kid Plang. - -“I promise it _in the name of Howard Milmarsh_!” - -“You seem to think you have a right to speak for him,” persisted Plang. -“How did you work that, if you haven’t seen him? You didn’t know we -were coming here to-day. Nobody did for certain, because we kept it a -secret. Bonesy can tell you that.” - -“Shut up!” ordered Billings. “Leave me out while you’re takin’ it on -yourself to conduct these here negotiations. I’ll ’tend to you later,” -he added, with menacing significance. - -“Well, I’m speakin’ for most of the crowd when I say we’re goin’ up -them stairs,” rejoined Kid Plang. “We want to see Louden Powers an’ -Andrew Lampton. This bunch hasn’t come all the way from New York -without wantin’ a run for its money. An’ I’ll help ’em to get it.” - -“Hey! Look there!” suddenly screamed the widow who had been prominent -from the first. “There he is! See! Look at him!” - -“Who?” roared half a dozen voices. - -“Howard Milmarsh! There he is. I’ve seen his picters, an’ I know it’s -him. He’s hidin’ behind them other two men! No, they’re shovin’ him -back! I don’t care for nobody. I’m goin’ up!” - -The woman tried to force herself to the front, but the mob was too -solidly packed in, and she could not move. - -Kid Plang tried to take advantage of the disturbance caused by the -shrieking woman to edge his way past Bonesy Billings. - -A straight left, delivered by Billings with splendid precision, sent -Kid Plang back for the second time since he had been on the stairs. -Only this time he was knocked senseless. The point of the chin had -received the blow. He fell in a heap in a corner of the stairs. - -This encounter was the signal for a general rush forward on the part of -the men and women below. - -The widow had caught a glimpse of the white face of the man who was -known to them, from his pictures, as Howard Milmarsh, and, while most -of the crowd did not believe she had seen the man she said she had, a -few held that Carter had been mistaken when he said Howard Milmarsh was -not in the house. - -“Chick!” whispered the detective. - -“Yes.” - -“Tell Patsy!” - -“All right.” - -Patsy Garvan was on the other side of Chick, and Carter did not care to -give orders that would be heard by the others. - -But it was easily understood by his two assistants that they were to -hold the stairs at all hazards, even before Nick called down to Bonesy -that the crowd must not come up. - -“I’m with you, Mr. Carter!” was Billings’ reply. “I wouldn’t care if -Howard Milmarsh came and stood at the top of them stairs now; I would -take your word, even agin’ my own eyesight.” - -The detective smiled. The loyalty of this burly truckman—who had seen -how he was willing to risk his life to save a girl and her father -from a fire, and who therefore respected him from the bottom of his -heart—touched him. - -“I will explain to you later, Billings,” he said, as he thrust one man -back by sheer strength, and then lifted another to throw him on top of -the now frantic mob which was storming the staircase. - -For five minutes Billings, Carter, Chick, and Patsy kept the crowd -back. Some blows were struck, but not many, considering how many -persons were in the fray. The truth was that Nick abstained from -hitting anybody unless he were forced into it, while his assistants, -taking their cue from him, also used their strength instead of -fighting the frenzied invaders. - -Bonesy Billings was as unwilling to strike as were the detectives. -These men whom he was now striving to push out of the house were his -friends. But a short time before he had been helping them to batter -down the doors to the house. It would have been hard indeed if he had -felt obliged to employ his tremendous fists against them now. - -His faith in Nick Carter was so great that he had resolved to end -the siege, but he did not feel any the better disposed toward Howard -Milmarsh or the two men who had been with him at the back of the -Paradise City enterprise. - -When he had kept his tacit pledge to the great detective and cleared -the house, then he would return to know what it all meant. - -That was exactly what he did. In due time, by alternate threats and -persuasions, plus considerable physical force, he put the last of the -mob on the porch outside, and saw them headed for the railroad station, -three miles away. - -“Wait there for me,” were his parting words. “I’ll be your delegate, -and you shall hear all that I find out here. Mr. Carter is on our side, -and he is going to see that we have justice.” - -“Three cheers for Carter!” shouted an enthusiastic man in the mob. - -“Hurrah!” yelled Bonesy. “That’s the right thing! Give ’em with a will, -boys—and girls, too!” he added, as a fortunate afterthought. - -The women joined with the men, their shrill tones being plainly audible -through the gruff voices of the men as they cheered the great detective -again and again while marching down the road. - -“There you are, Mr. Carter!” cried Bonesy, with a grin, as he returned -to the house. “Now, what is the next thing to be done.” - -“Louden, come down here!” called out Nick, as he looked up the stairs. -“And bring with you Andrew Lampton and that man who looks like Howard -Milmarsh.” - -“He _is_ Howard Milmarsh!” grunted Louden. “How did you get into this -house?” - -“That ought not to matter much to you,” said Nick. “It is a good thing -for you I got in somehow. Patsy, run around and tell Captain Brown he -can come in by the front entrance now. He is still sitting in his car, -I guess.” - -Louden Powers raised his eyebrows as he heard Carter give these -instructions. He began to wonder how many persons were to be brought -into the house by this detective who had taken charge of matters so -completely. - -“Come down, Louden!” repeated Nick. “It will be better for you.” - -There was a threat in these quiet words that Louden Powers well -understood. Although he had not been caught in the raid in Jersey -City a few nights before, he did not know how much evidence there was -against him in connection with the counterfeiting proceedings. He came -downstairs. - -“Is Lampton and the other man with you?” asked Nick. - -“We are coming,” replied Lampton for himself. - -“And the other man?” - -“He’s here.” - -Nick Carter had appeared to trust to the rascals to bring down the man -who had been called Howard Milmarsh. As a matter of fact, he did not -depend entirely on them. He had given a private signal to Chick, and -that exceedingly efficient assistant was ready to compel obedience by -Louden and Lampton if there had been too much hesitation on their part. - -“We’ll go into the dining room,” said Carter. “Get some of your -servants to come and open the sun blinds. We may as well have light -from the outside.” - -The two men—Dobbs and Kelly—who had been keeping discreetly in the -background while the row lasted, now stepped forward and let the -sunshine into the great dining room. - -“Now, chairs for everybody!” ordered Nick. “I will sit here, near the -door. Is Captain Brown coming?” - -“Here I am, Carter,” answered Captain Brown for himself, as he came in -with Patsy. “I saw that mob going down the road. I hope they won’t stay -at the Old Pike Inn and make a fuss.” - -“You have plenty of employees and special police to deal with them, -haven’t you?” asked Nick carelessly. - -“Oh, yes. Only I shouldn’t like my guests to be disturbed. It would -hurt the reputation of my house.” - -“They have taken another road and gone straight down to the railroad -station,” announced Patsy. “There’s another party wants to come in, -chief. I told him I’d ask you.” - -“Who is he?” - -“Mr. Thomas Jarvis.” - -“Jarvis?” cried Nick. “Let him come in, by all means! This is going to -be a most interesting gathering. Mr. Billings, you will kindly move -over to that other chair. I should like Mr. Jarvis to sit next to me.” - -“Anything you say, Mr. Carter,” said Billings, with a grin. “I wasn’t -never in sech a swell place as this before—not to set down with the -people who belonged to it, anyhow.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII. - - MURDER WILL OUT. - - -When Thomas Jarvis, with a grim expression on his tightly closed lips, -came into the room, there was a look of curiosity on the faces of both -Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton. - -The man who had been called Howard Milmarsh was the only person in the -large circle about the massive mahogany table who seemed not to be -interested. He was sitting opposite Nick Carter, his head bent forward, -so that his chin almost rested on his chest, and his eyes fixed -vacantly upon the table. - -“Now that we are all here, you may go,” said the detective, dismissing -the two menservants. - -“Don’t we have anything to drink?” asked Louden Powers. “Or is this to -be a dry session?” - -“We won’t drink,” replied Nick. “But I don’t think it will be so very -dry. We shall see.” - -He did not say anything more until Dobbs and Kelly had withdrawn. Then -he made a motion to his assistant, Chick, who locked the door and -handed the key to his chief. - -“Now, Mr. Jarvis, we’ll hear you first,” announced Carter. “What are -you here for?” - -“I’m here to take possession of my property,” replied Jarvis. “I have -had my attorney go through all the necessary legal forms, and I demand -that you all leave this house forthwith.” - -Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton laughed aloud, and even Chick and -Patsy indulged in a quiet smile. - -“I don’t think there is anything to be said about that, Mr. Jarvis, -except to inform you that Howard Milmarsh is here, and that therefore -your claim is nothing at all. Your attorney should have known that.” - -“I’m my own attorney!” snapped Jarvis. “I have been a lawyer long -enough to know my rights.” - -“Your knowledge of law may be fairly good—very good,” returned the -detective. “But the action of law must be based on sound facts, and it -seems as if you have overlooked them. I tell you that Howard Milmarsh -is here to claim his inheritance.” - -“You mean that man at the table?” barked Jarvis. “_He_ is not Howard -Milmarsh.” - -“You’re wrong,” interposed Louden Powers. “That’s just who he is.” - -Billings had been gazing curiously at the man Powers pointed to, and -who still sat with bent head, taking no part in the proceedings, and -seeming hardly to know that he was there. - -Nick Carter understood what was passing in the big truckman’s mind. - -“There are things that seem to you contradictory, Billings,” said Nick, -as their eyes met for a moment. “I will explain to you later. You will -find that I told you the truth.” - -Bonesy Billings shook his head in an embarrassed way, as he answered -hastily: - -“I hadn’t no thought of nothing else, Mr. Carter. But I saw that -gentleman over there, and I didn’t know what it meant.” - -“Now, that is all I have to say,” interrupted Jarvis. “This is my -house, and I should like to have it to myself. In the absence of any -other legal heir, I am the owner. The property passes all to me, as -next of kin. My son would have inherited it had he lived. But he died.” - -“He was killed!” suddenly thundered Nick. “He was struck down by a -champagne bottle. There are witnesses to prove it. I have one of them -in this room——” - -“Now, Carter!” interrupted Captain Brown, jumping to his feet. “You -have kept that quiet all these years. Why should——” - -“I’ll tell you why, Captain Brown,” broke in the detective. “There -is an effort on the part of Thomas Jarvis to rob the owner of this -property of his rights, and I am obliged to say what I do, in the -interests of justice.” - -“Justice?” - -It was Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton who uttered this word in unison -in an apprehensive tone. There seemed to be something about it that -grated on their sensibilities. - -Thomas Jarvis was sitting stiff in his chair, his eyes fixed upon Nick -Carter’s face, while he tried to mumble some protest. - -“I intended to keep this a secret to the end, because I have always -felt that the slayer of Richard Jarvis had great provocation, and -doubtless was carried away by the excitement of the moment to do a deed -that he has been remorseful for ever since.” - -“Didn’t it come out at the time?” asked Bonesy Billings. “Murders don’t -often get away from the police in these days.” - -“You’re right, Billings. I don’t suppose this would have been hushed up -if a person who—who has some influence had not prevented all the facts -becoming known.” - -“I’d let it go at that, if I were you, Carter,” pleaded Captain Brown, -his usually bronzed face a grayish white. “There’s no sense in raking -up such a thing as this.” - -“Yes, there is,” rejoined Nick. “Jarvis here has challenged me, and I -will take it up. He claims this property is——” - -“It is mine,” put in Jarvis doggedly. - -“Because your son is dead?” - -“Yes.” - -“And when you knew that Howard Milmarsh had run away from this part of -the country, you figured that he never would dare return, and that your -son Richard would be the heir.” - -“You can say what you like. The property is mine,” growled Jarvis, as -if determined to stick to one idea. - -“If your son Richard were to die, it would leave you the next of kin, -so far as legal forms go. Therefore, it might be to your interest if -Richard were to be put out of the world. He was not really your son, -you know, but your stepson.” - -“How did you know that?” demanded Jarvis, half rising. “It isn’t true, -anyhow.” - -“Oh, yes, it is. I can prove it, if necessary,” was the detective’s -answer. “You knew that Howard Milmarsh the elder was in poor health. -You had learned that his doctor gave him only a few more months of -life, and predicted that he would die suddenly. All that was part of -your knowledge.” - -“I don’t care to stay here any longer,” abruptly declared Thomas -Jarvis, rising to his feet. “I will go. But there will be proper -officers here during the day to eject the rascals who are trying to -steal my estate. Good morning!” - -But the door was locked and the key in Nick Carter’s pocket. - -“Better sit down till I have finished speaking,” he advised coolly. “I -do not intend to let you leave this room until I am ready.” - -“What do you mean?” - -“I’ll tell the rest of my story, and then you can answer your own -question. You will know what I mean.” - -“Rot!” - -Thomas Jarvis resumed his seat and stared at the detective. Those about -the table observed that he seemed to have grown very much older in the -last minute or two. His eyes had become dull, his jaw sagged, and he -did not appear to be as truculent as he had been when he came into the -room. - -“The truth is,” went on Nick, “that you killed your son Richard in a -quarrel, in the Old Pike Inn——” - -“Carter!” protested Captain Brown. “This will ruin my house!” - -“You knocked him down with a champagne bottle, as he came toward you to -strike you. He fell flat, with his head against the corner of the iron -fender. But the blow against the fender was a trifle. It glanced and -hardly cut the skin. The stroke that killed him was delivered by the -champagne bottle in your hand!” - -Bonesy Billings, Captain Brown, Louden Powers, and Lampton were all -on their feet, in their excitement. The man who was supposed to be -Howard Milmarsh and Thomas Jarvis were the only persons who remained -in their chairs. Chick and Patsy had both arisen, as if to prevent any -demonstration by Powers or Lampton. - -“Sit down!” commanded the detective. “There is nothing to be done. The -man who killed Richard Jarvis cannot escape.” - -The others dropped into their seats again. The two crooks showed more -terror than had been in their faces since first they knew Carter was in -the house. If this shrewd, deep-seeing detective could wind the toils -so easily about Thomas Jarvis for a crime committed years ago, why -would he not put them in cells for offenses of yesterday, as it were? - -Both Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton were uneasy. It is true that the -latter had practically a promise of safety if he delivered T. Burton -Potter into the hands of the detective. But he was not prepared to -produce Potter except as a last resort to keep himself out of prison. - -As for Louden Powers, he was a bold scoundrel, and he intended to make -a desperate fight to get away if he found Carter and his men closing in -on him. Only, he wished he were not locked in a room like this, with -the odds in numbers against him. - -“There’s Carter and his two men,” he mused. “Captain Brown, I guess, -and that big Billings. That would be five against one—for I don’t -suppose I could count on that weak-kneed Lampton. He has some sort of -pull on the detective. I wouldn’t mind betting he’s a ‘squealer.’” - -“Now, Mr. Jarvis,” continued Nick. “You have forced me to take this -action. If you had not attempted to cash in your crime, I should have -been inclined to let it rest in the oblivion to which you thought it -consigned. The fact that you have compelled me to remind you of it, in -the presence of these witnesses, emphasizes the world-old truth that -‘murder will out.’ What have you to say?” - -There was no answer. Thomas Jarvis’ gaze was fixed on the opposite -wall, and he had slumped curiously down in his large armchair. - -“Look here, Carter,” broke in Captain Brown again. “You don’t have to -drag me into this.” - -“You were a witness,” replied Nick coldly. “As a good citizen, your -duty is to tell the truth—if you are asked.” - -It has been remarked already that Captain Brown was a business man. He -thought more of the Old Pike Inn and its reputation than anything else -on earth probably. He groaned at this suggestion. - -“Chief!” suddenly shouted Chick. - -He and Patsy rushed to Thomas Jarvis simultaneously. But they were not -in time to prevent his slipping to the floor. - -Half a minute later, Nick, on one knee by the side of the prostrate -man, with a finger on the stilled pulse, looked up and said solemnly: - -“You need not worry about being called on to testify, Captain Brown. -The matter will never come up.” - -“Is he dead?” - -The response of the detective was to reverently cover the face of -Thomas Jarvis with his own handkerchief. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII. - - STILL HUNTING. - - -“Of course, Thomas Jarvis never was a real factor in this matter,” -remarked Nick, fifteen minutes later, when all that was mortal of -Jarvis had been removed to another room. “But we will go into the -claims of that young man who has been sitting silently at the other -side of the table from the beginning of the conference, and who——” - -The detective broke off. The chair occupied by the man who had been -declared by Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton to be Howard Milmarsh was -empty, and he was not in the room! - -Patsy and Chick had both helped remove the body of Thomas Jarvis, and -no one had taken any notice of the young man. He had been sitting there -when everybody else went out, watching the disposal of the still form -on a large sofa in the library. - -They were just returning, with Nick Carter in the lead, and speaking as -he came, when he saw that the alleged Howard Milmarsh had disappeared. - -There was a search all about the house and grounds which lasted for an -hour or more. At the end of that time, when not a trace of the missing -man could be found, Carter decided that there was nothing more to be -done there, and he told Chick and Patsy privately that he was going -back to New York. - -Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton had both taken an active part in the -hunt. They were loud in their protestations that he was the real heir, -and that somebody must have spirited him away in the interests of -enemies. - -“What do you mean by enemies?” asked the detective quietly, when the -whole party were again assembled in the dining room. “Do you mean that -persons who believe him to be actually Howard Milmarsh have hidden him -so that they can bring a spurious one in to take possession?” - -“You guess well,” grinned Louden Powers. - -“Mind I don’t guess a little too well for your peace of mind, Powers,” -was Nick’s rejoinder. “This estate has not been settled yet. Besides, -those people waiting at the station for Billings might come up here -again and hold you personally responsible for the fraud of Paradise -City. They count you partly in the swindle, as you know.” - -Powers sniffed scornfully, and lighted a cigarette, to show how much at -his ease he was. Andrew Lampton was discreetly silent. He had not the -bravado of his companion. - -“The crowd has gone back,” announced Patsy, who had been at the -telephone. “They got tired of waiting for Bonesy, and they took that -train which went out an hour ago. It’s lucky for these two guys that -they didn’t come back. The station agent tells me they was as hot as -fresh tamales. If it hadn’t been a three-mile walk, some of ’em was -coming back to lick the pair of ’em, just for luck.” - -“It is just as well,” put in Nick. “Come over here, Billings. I want to -talk to you.” - -The result of a minute or two of private converse between the detective -and Billings was that the big truckman smiled grimly and stood by the -door of the dining room, to indicate that he was ready to obey orders -at once. - -“You see, Chick,” explained Carter to his principal assistant, “I want -you to come back with me to New York, and it would be asking too much -of Patsy to guard those two men alone.” - -“He could do it, all right,” returned Chick. “I don’t think they would -get away if Patsy wanted to hold them. Besides, there are menservants -in the house.” - -“I don’t depend on servants, Chick—especially when they are new and -have no personal interest in the place in which they are employed. You -remember we heard two of them talking about their situation when they -did not suspect that they were overheard?” - -“When we were behind that big picture?” - -“Yes. So I’ve engaged Billings to stay here and act as a sort of -sergeant at arms while we are away. He and Patsy together will insure -Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton being here when we return.” - -“What are we going to do about Howard Milmarsh?” broke in Louden -Powers, who had been wondering what the detective was talking about, -but could not very well inquire. “I think I’d better go down to New -York and look around.” - -“Where would you look?” - -“In places where he generally hangs out. There’s a lot of joints where -you could find him ’most any time, and I——” - -“I never knew Howard Milmarsh to hang about in New York,” interrupted -Carter. “I think you have somebody else in mind.” - -“Who?” demanded Powers defiantly. - -“T. Burton Potter, for instance.” - -“I’m talking about Howard Milmarsh.” - -“Well, we will let you remain in the house here, while I look for -Howard Milmarsh. I’m quite as anxious as you are to find him,” was the -detective’s reply. “Come on, Chick!” - -“You want Andrew Lampton and me to stay here?” asked Powers, with a -suspicious inflection. “That’s something different from what you’ve -been giving us. You were handing it to us that we had no business in -this house.” - -“You have business in it now, Louden, because I believe you may help to -solve the problem of the missing heir. Captain Brown, you will take us -down to the station, won’t you? My car has gone back to New York.” - -“I’ll take you down with pleasure,” was the prompt response of the -manager of the Old Pike Inn. - -Captain Brown was so relieved to know that he would not be called on -as a witness to prove that Thomas Jarvis killed his son, that he was -willing to do anything for anybody. - -“I’ll go with you if you like,” volunteered Lampton. “Even if I can’t -find Howard Milmarsh, I might get my hands on T. Burton Potter. You -remember you wanted me to find him.” - -“I did want you to do that,” admitted Nick. “But not now. Even if I -don’t, it won’t make much difference as things have turned out. You -remain here with Louden Powers. Billings, you know what to do. You too, -Patsy!” - -Nick Carter and Chick swung out of the dining room, with Captain Brown. -No sooner were they outside than the door closed, and they heard a key -click in the lock. - -“Patsy and Billings are not taking any chances,” observed Chick, -smiling. - -“That is the only way to deal with men of that stripe, Chick. Captain, -if we hurry, we can make that two train for New York.” - -They just made the train, and, as Nick and his assistant sat silently -side by side, while the train rushed toward the metropolis, each was -occupied with his own thoughts. - -“Where shall we go first?” asked Chick, as they left the train at the -Grand Central and walked through the lofty concourse to Forty-second -Street. “Home, I suppose?” - -“Yes. We’ll go there and see what mail there is, and if anything -special calls for attention. Then we’ll visit the Universal Hospital.” - -“What do you suppose has become of that fellow who vanished from the -house up there this morning—the man who called himself Howard Milmarsh?” - -“That I don’t know. And I don’t much care, at present. But I should -like to correct you in one little particular, Chick. It is Louden -Powers and Andrew Lampton who have been calling him Howard Milmarsh. -You did not hear him say much about it.” - -“That’s true,” assented Chick reflectively. “Here’s a taxi. I called -him up just now.” - -“There’s an old man and a young lady waiting for you in the library, -sir,” said the butler, as they went into Nick’s quiet house. “I told -them I didn’t know when you would be back, but they said they would -wait half an hour, anyhow. Perhaps by that time you might be home. -They’ve been in the library an hour already. I was up there ten minutes -ago.” - -“They must want to see me rather badly,” was the chief’s comment, as he -ran lightly up the stairs. “Did they give you their names?” - -“No, sir. They said they would tell you when they saw you?” - -“Very well!” - -Nick opened the door of his library. As he stepped inside, he knew who -his visitors were. - -“Why, it’s the young lady who was in the fire that night,” he -exclaimed, in a tone of warm welcome. “Miss Silvius, isn’t it?” - -“Yes. And this is my father. If it hadn’t been for you, we couldn’t be -here now. We wanted to see you so much, Mr. Carter. I didn’t know till -to-day who it was that got us out of that fearful fire. I have not -seen Mr. Gordon—I mean Mr. Milmarsh since.” - -The detective shook hands with Bessie Silvius and her father, and then -introduced Chick, who thought the girl wonderfully pretty, and showed -it in his face. - -“I—I—wanted to thank you for what you did, Mr. Carter,” faltered the -girl. “And also—to ask if you knew where Mr. Milmarsh is.” - -“I _know_ where he is,” replied Nick gravely. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIV. - - THE GIRL IN THE CASE. - - -“Will you take me to him?” asked the girl, with a blush. Then she went -on in a more resolute tone, and as if she knew she had nothing of which -to be ashamed: “He has asked me to marry him, Mr. Carter.” - -“Ah!” - -“Yes, that’s what I told him,” she continued innocently. “I said it -could never be.” - -“I didn’t say anything,” smiled the detective. - -“I know you didn’t. At least, you only said ‘Ah!’ But I know what you -meant, and I agree with you.” - -“I wish you would explain, Miss Silvius.” - -“You mean that he is a multimillionaire, if he chooses to claim his -own. If I were to marry him, people might say he was throwing himself -away on a poor girl.” - -“I don’t think it would matter what people might say.” - -“It would matter a great deal to me,” she interrupted, with decision. -“I am getting a living by teaching music. My father teaches the violin. -We both play when we get a chance. And—and—sometimes the places we play -at are not at all—at all nice.” - -“Poor girl!” murmured Nick, below his breath. Then, aloud: “We all -have to do things we don’t like sometimes, Miss Silvius. I can assure -you, knowing Howard Milmarsh as well as I do, that if he asked you to -marry him, he will insist on your doing it—providing, of course, that -you care for him.” - -“I do,” burst out the girl involuntarily. Then she blushed again. “I -did not mean to say that. I’ve told him I shall never marry, and I -intend to keep my word.” - -“No doubt. Girls always intend to keep their word when they make a rash -assertion of that kind,” said Nick, with a laugh. “You say you haven’t -seen him since the night of the fire?” - -“No. We were all so much excited, and my poor father, who had -rheumatism, was in such a dangerous state, that I was only too glad -that some of the neighbors took us in and cared for us. When I came to -myself, and could make inquiries about Mr. Gordon, no one knew where he -was. I couldn’t find any one who remembered seeing him after he came -down the ladder, except that a policeman said he was hurt.” - -“I took him away in my motor car,” said the detective quietly. - -“You did? And is he well? Can you take me to him? Is he here, in your -house?” - -“Not at present. But what made you think of coming here to-day? Why did -you connect me with the disappearance of this—er—Mr. Gordon?” - -“The same policeman who told me he was taken away in a motor car saw me -on the street this morning. We have always been on speaking terms since -the fire. He said to-day he had heard that the motor car in which Mr. -Gordon—as everybody called him where he lived—was taken away belonged -to the detective, Nick Carter.” - -“Yes?” - -“It was not difficult to find your address. So my father and I came -down to try to see you. I was so disappointed when your man said you -were away. We had come a long way, and I was determined to see you if I -could. So we said we would wait.” - -“You have been here more than an hour?” - -“Yes, but we didn’t mind waiting, so long as you are here at last. We -should have waited another hour, and more than that. And if we had not -seen you to-day, we should have been here again to-morrow.” - -“That’s true, sir,” added Roscoe Silvius, who had hardly spoken. -“I can’t say all I should like, but I don’t think I need speak my -gratitude. You surely must _know_. Why, Mr. Carter, you plucked me out -of the very jaws of a horrible death!” - -“I’m very glad I happened to be there,” returned Carter earnestly. “At -such a time as that any man would have done what I did. Mr.—er—Gordon, -was as active as I was.” - -“Yes, but he couldn’t have done it alone, although I saw that he would -have given his life to save us. Then there is the young man over there -at the other side of the room—Mr. Chick. I remember how he helped to -get my father down the ladder when it was breaking in the middle. I -wish I could say something to him that would seem only partly adequate.” - -“Don’t say anything, Miss Silvius,” put in Chick, blushing like a girl -himself. “It was the chief who did it. I only helped him a little. -And—and—it was all in my day’s work. Nothing to talk about!” - -“Well, now, Mr. Carter, will you take me to him?” asked the girl, going -back to her former request. - -“I should hardly like to do that without first seeing him,” answered -the detective kindly. “You see——” - -“He is still ill? Isn’t that it, Mr. Carter?” - -There was an agony of anxiety in her voice that caused it to tremble as -she looked eagerly into his face. - -“Yes, he is ill,” admitted Nick. “I am going to see him at the -hospital.” - -“Is—is he very bad?” - -“I don’t know. I do not think so. The last time I saw him, some days -ago, he was up and dressed. The trouble is with his mind. The shock -of the injuries he suffered at the fire still affects him. I hope—and -expect—it will soon pass away.” - -“I wish I could see him.” - -“I intend that you shall—but not just now.” - -“When?” - -“Let me see. It is now four o’clock. I will go to the hospital. You may -have an opportunity this evening. I cannot promise, but it may be so. -Will you remain here until I get back. You have spent over an hour in -this room,” he added, smiling. “You won’t mind another half hour or so, -I’m sure.” - -“How kind you are!” she murmured. - -“Not at all. As Chick says, it is all in my day’s work.” - -Chick brought a bundle of magazines to her, and placed a chair for her -at the big table, with another for her father. - -Carter smiled inwardly as he noted the assiduous attentions of his -assistant. Bessie Silvius was a pretty girl. - -With a cheerful nod of farewell to Bessie and her father, and another -for Chick, the detective went out, picked up a taxi at the next corner, -and sped away to the Universal Hospital. - -He knew his way about the big building, and did not require anybody -to show him how to reach the private room he had engaged for Howard -Milmarsh. It was on the fourth floor, and there was good elevator -service. In fact, there were two passenger elevators, besides others -for taking patients, on cots, from one floor to another, and for other -hospital uses. - -Most of the doctors and nurses knew him, and he had to stop and speak -to several of them before he was allowed to enter the elevator and tell -the attendant to put him off on “the fourth.” - -As he walked down the long corridor on his way to the room, he met the -nurse who was in charge of Howard Milmarsh at night. - -“How is he, Miss Jordan?” he asked. - -“He had a good night, Mr. Carter. But I haven’t seen him since seven -this morning.” - -“His mind?” - -“I fancy it is better. He seems to remember things a little. I feel -sure he will recover in time.” - -This nurse had had long experience, comparatively. She was nearly -thirty years of age, and was considered one of the most competent of -her profession in the hospital. When she said a patient was better, -there was reason to believe she was right. - -“I’m glad to hear it, Miss Jordan. Were you going to see him now?” - -“Yes. I don’t go on till seven. But as I am in the hospital, I’ll go -in, of course, to see my patient. I am deeply interested in the case. -It is a sad one, it seems to me, for I hear that he is a very wealthy -man.” - -Miss Jordan looked inquiringly at Nick. But if she expected to receive -any information from him as to Howard Milmarsh’s private affairs, she -was disappointed. The detective was not given to idle gossip. - -The young man was known in the hospital as Robert Gordon. If he had -been entered in the name of Howard Milmarsh, there would have been -altogether too much curiosity about him, in Nick’s opinion. - -The two reached the door of the private room, and Miss Jordan tapped at -the door. - -It was opened quickly, and Nick saw that there were three doctors and -as many nurses standing between him and the bed, and all were talking -with more excitement than is usual in a sick chamber. - -“Is anything the matter?” demanded the detective. - -“He’s gone!” replied one of the doctors, with a jerk. “The patient has -left the hospital, and we are questioning Miss Sawyer, the day nurse, -to find out how it happened.” - -“Gone?” echoed Nick sharply. “Do you mean he ran away without anybody -knowing he had done so?” - -“No, no, Mr. Carter. Not so bad as that. Such a thing could not happen -in a well-managed institution like the Universal Hospital. But he went -for a stroll about the building, and on the lawn, and slipped out of -the front door without anybody in the office on the main floor noticing -him. That is the report.” - -“Oh, that’s the report, is it?” observed Nick dryly. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXV. - - GETTING A FOCUS. - - -“Do you mean that he was allowed to go walking about the hospital by -himself, so that he could slip away unnoticed?” - -It was Nick Carter asking the question, and he was seated in the room -from which Howard Milmarsh had vanished, talking to the day nurse, Miss -Sawyer, while the night nurse, Miss Jordan, listened. - -“I did not say that,” replied Miss Sawyer. “His brother was here.” - -“His brother?” - -“Yes. He was the very picture of Mr. Gordon—except that he was not -pale, from staying indoors, like the patient. In everything else they -were so much alike that you knew they were twins.” - -“Oh, you knew it.” - -“Yes. You could tell it from their remarkable resemblance to each -other. Besides, the other Mr. Gordon said they were twins.” - -“Had you ever seen the visiting brother before?” - -“No.” - -“He had never paid a visit to the patient till to-day? Did he explain -why that was?” - -“Yes. He said he had been away from New York for a long time—in the -West. He had heard of his brother being sick, and had come to the -hospital as soon as he arrived in the city.” - -“And then—what?” - -“He talked to Mr. Gordon for a little while, trying to make him -understand. He spoke of being in the West, and mentioned a place he -called Maple.” - -“Well?” - -“Mr. Gordon appeared to recognize that name, for he smiled and said -something that sounded like a girl’s name.” - -“What name?” - -“Bessie or Letty or Nelly. I could not be sure what it was, for he does -not talk plainly, you know. He never has had complete control of his -tongue since he came here.” - -“Was that all you noticed when they were talking? Was there any other -word that seemed to penetrate to his brain?” - -“Not that I saw. They talked for about fifteen minutes. Then Mr. -Gordon, as he said his name was—the visitor—proposed that he should -walk his brother about the hospital and out to the garden at the back.” - -“And you let him do it?” - -“Yes. It seemed reasonable that they should like to be together, after -so long a parting. Reasonable for the visitor, that is. The patient did -not make any sign one way or the other. Beyond a half smile, as if he -were pleased when the name of the girl was on his tongue, he was just -as he always is.” - -“It might have been better if you’d gone along, too, Miss Sawyer,” -remarked the detective. “You would then have seen them when they went -out of the front door. The patient had his hat, I suppose?” - -“Yes. He wore his usual clothing, hat and all. There was nothing in -his appearance different from hundreds of men you may see on Broadway -or Fifth Avenue at any time. I wish I had gone with them. But I argued -that he would be quite safe with his twin brother, and his absence gave -me an opportunity to look after little things about the room which are -difficult to attend to when he is there.” - -Nick saw the nurse’s point of view, and resolved not to make a -complaint at the office, as he might easily have done. Instead, he -walked out, stepped into his waiting taxicab, and hastened home. - -He told exactly what he had found at the hospital, leaving it to Chick -to make any comments that occurred to him. - -The girl and her father simply looked bewildered. They did not feel -that any harm had been done by the patient leaving the hospital with -his twin brother. Indeed, Bessie smiled, as if pleased that he was well -enough to go out. - -“You know who the twin brother is, of course, chief?” observed Chick. - -“It is not hard to guess.” - -“What is the game?” - -“That we must find out.” - -“When?” - -“Now.” - -“Where are you going to do it?” - -“The Milmarsh residence, it appears to me,” replied Nick. - -“Milmarsh, did you say?” asked the girl. “Do you suppose he has gone -there?” - -“It seems probable.” - -“So it does,” assented Bessie Silvius. “Oh, Mr. Carter! Perhaps he is -quite well—recovered his memory and everything! Well, if he has, that -is all I want to know. It is all I have a _right_ to know. We’ll go -now, my father and I. You won’t mind my coming again—to-morrow, or the -next day—to hear how he is, will you?” - -The pitiful appeal in her tones would have touched a much harder heart -than the detective’s. He walked close to her and took one of her hands -in his. - -“Miss Silvius, I hope you will not have to wait until to-morrow to hear -how Mr.—Mr. Gordon is. I was about to ask if you would go with us to -Milmarsh.” - -“Milmarsh?” - -“That is the name of the little place where the residence of the -Milmarshes is up on the hill. There is not much else there besides the -Old Pike Inn and a cluster of small stores to supply the country homes -around. We shall take a train in three-quarters of an hour.” - -“It will get us up there in less than an hour,” added Chick. “It’s an -express. The chief has that train schedule down fine. He never has to -look at a timetable.” - -“Meanwhile, I will have the housekeeper give us a meal of some kind. -She is a wonder at preparing a tasty luncheon or supper at short -notice.” - -“I don’t think I’m hungry,” protested the girl. - -“I know better,” contradicted Carter, smiling as he saw that Chick was -already at the house telephone, giving directions to the housekeeper. -“And your father needs something, too. You wouldn’t deprive him of the -refreshment he needs, I am sure, even if you were to refuse it for -yourself.” - -Thus chatting, to prevent Bessie Silvius objecting further, Nick led -the way into the dining room, where, in a wonderfully short space of -time, there were tea, coffee, cold meat, cake, pie, and other articles -of food, set forth in appetizing array. - -Roscoe Silvius evidently was hungry. The old gentleman attacked -everything set before him, and praised each dish as it reached him. -Bessie also was hungry, although she was not so ravenous as her father, -while the chief and Chick disposed of their food in the businesslike -manner of sensible men, who did not know when they would get a meal -again, and were determined to make the most of the one they had. - -The taxi that was to take them to the Grand Central was at the door -when they went downstairs, and they were comfortably seated in a parlor -car two minutes before the time for the train to pull out. - -“It all seems so wonderful,” declared Bessie, smiling, as she settled -down in the comfortable, roomy chair, and looked along the car. “This -morning I had no thought of finding him again in this world. Now, in -the evening, I am on my way to see him.” - -“You are almost too optimistic, I’m afraid,” said Nick, with a smile. -“We may not find him at Milmarsh. Only, I think that he may be there. -I have reasons of my own for believing so, but they may all turn out -fallacious. There goes the train.” - -In less than half an hour they were in a motor car, hired at the -station, and on their way up to the Milmarsh mansion. - -“Hello! What’s all the fuss on the porch?” exclaimed Chick. “Look, -chief! It isn’t the poor people that were fooled on Paradise City there -again, is it?” - -“I see Billings moving about very actively,” said the chief. “Hurry, -driver! Let’s get there!” - -The chauffeur put on more power and sent his machine along at a -headlong pace, which brought it up in front of the porch at the main -door with a rush. - -“What is it?” shouted Nick, at Patsy Garvan, who was by the side of the -big truckman. - -“The guy they called Howard Milmarsh is back again,” was the reply -hurled back by Patsy. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVI. - - WHERE THEY FOUND HIM. - - -Nick Carter jumped out of the car, leaving to Chick the congenial task -of helping out Bessie Silvius, and bolted into the house. - -“Where is he?” - -“In the dining room, locked in with the others,” reported Billings -coolly. “As soon as he came snooping up, I shoved him in with Louden -Powers and Lampton, and let them have it out between them. Then I came -out, to see who it was coming up the road in an automobile. It was you. -The other guy came only just a little while ago.” - -“You mean the man you have in the dining room?” - -“Yes. He said he walked up from the station, talking to another fellow -who was with him, when suddenly he missed him.” - -“Who?” - -“The other guy he was talking to.” - -“Do you mean to say that he allowed a man to get away from him while -they were actually talking, and didn’t see where he’d gone?” - -“That’s what he told us.” - -“I don’t believe it, for one,” put in Chick. - -“Unless this mug in the dining room is daffy. Then it might have -happened,” suggested Patsy. “Who is he, anyhow?” - -Nick did not stop to answer, although he could have done it. He went -over to Bessie Silvius, and asked her to wait in the drawing-room with -her father, for a little time, while he straightened out a little -misunderstanding that had occurred. - -“But, Mr. Carter, is that Mr. Gordon in the dining room? I mean, the -man they say came walking up the road with somebody else? Or was it he -who suddenly left the other?” - -“I shall have to go into the dining room to see the man before I can -answer that question.” - -He directed Chick to stay in the drawing-room with Bessie and her -father. It was a mission that Chick undertook with cheerfulness. Carter -saw him leading Bessie and Roscoe Silvius to the drawing-room with -Chesterfieldian politeness, and did not trouble any further about him. - -Billings opened the door of the dining room with the key he had in his -pocket, and Nick went in. - -He saw just about what he expected. Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton -each had a cigar going, and between them, still slumped down in his -chair, as if he never had moved, was the individual who had been put -forward as the real heir of the stupendous Milmarsh estate. - -Nick went to this man and shook him until he looked up vacantly. - -“Where is he?” demanded Nick. - -“I don’t know. I was bringing him here, because you wanted him. But he -wouldn’t come the whole distance, and it was no fault of mine. I guess -he is somewhere about the grounds.” - -“Why didn’t you search for him, instead of coming up to the house?” - -“Because I believed he’d come here. It is what anybody would have -believed. But as soon as I came up to the porch, some of these fellows -of yours saw me and dragged me into this room.” - -The speaker was not exactly stupid. He seemed to be rather dazed by -a rapid surge of events. That was the way Nick regarded him, and -doubtless he was right. He bent over and whispered in the man’s ear. - -The result was a brightening up, and a much firmer tone of voice, as he -said aloud: - -“Of course, I’ll go with you, and I reckon I can find him, too. But -you will have to keep these two men off me,” pointing to Powers and -Lampton. “They feel that things are slipping away from them, and they -will kill me if they have a chance.” - -“That is quite probable,” muttered the detective inaudibly. - -He led the cowed man out of the room, and saw that Patsy followed. He -turned to his young assistant and told him not to let anybody out of -the house till they returned. - -Once in the open air, Nick’s companion seemed to become a different -man. His step was springy, and when they came to a fence separating -them from a part of the ground that was full of high grass and tangled -shrubbery, he vaulted over it as lightly and cleanly as Nick himself. -His voice was almost firm, as he said: - -“I saw him looking over here as we came up the road, and once I heard -him mutter something about the west meadow. He seemed to know that part -of the estate, although I did not hear him say anything else.” - -“The west meadow,” repeated Nick. “Yes, I think I know where that is.” - -They walked for some little distance through the bushes and grass, -until the detective stopped and pointed to what was evidently a recent -trail. - -“See! Somebody has walked through this high grass and made a deep, wide -furrow. We shan’t have much trouble in finding him now, I think.” - -Perhaps Nick was surprised to find that the trail ended at the stone -foundation wall of the house, at the back, where the cover of the -tunnel that used to be part of the “underground railway” was made to -look like the surrounding stones. The tunnel has already been described. - -“Get in there!” commanded Carter. - -The man was not inclined to obey. He seemed to fear it meant getting -him at a disadvantage—perhaps locking him up in some dungeon from -which he might never emerge save to go into a regular prison. - -But Nick was not in a mood to be held back by anybody—least of all by -one whom he felt had no right to consideration. - -So the man went down the chute, just as Chick had, not so long before, -and the detective followed him. - -There is no necessity to tell bit by bit how they went along the secret -corridor which finally brought them to the back of the large picture -in the dining room, where Nick and his assistant had listened to the -conversation of the conspirators—one of whom was now actually in the -corridor himself. - -Suddenly a man sprang out of the blackness and seized Nick by the -throat, forcing him backward and almost to his knees. - -It was only for an instant that the detective was held at a -disadvantage. He hurled his assailant away, and, bringing out his -pocket flash, saw the man who had come with him lying on the floor in -the narrow space, while facing him, with wild, vengeful eyes, was the -sick man from the Universal Hospital! - -It was evident that the escaped patient did not recognize either Nick -or the other man, and equally certain that he regarded them both as -enemies. - -Even as the detective watched, he could see the long fingers, lean and -clawlike from long illness, twitching to get at his throat, while the -madman’s feet shuffled slightly, as if preparing for a sudden spring. - -Nick took the initiative. Telling the man on the floor to get up and -lend a hand, he threw one arm around the strange creature who had found -his way in some mysterious way to this secret corridor, and seized his -wrist from behind. By this wrestling trick, the detective had both the -hands of his captive firmly held. - -“Hold him for a moment!” he commanded the other man, who had arisen by -this time. “Poor fellow! He is too weak to resist much. Had you any -notion where he was?” - -“How could I have?” was the rejoinder, in an injured tone. “I never was -in this hole before. Where are we, anyhow?” - -“I’ll show you,” replied Nick. - -He felt along the wall until his linger touched a small knob. - -The next moment a panel turned open silently, and they were looking -through a doorway some four feet wide, down into the dining room, where -sat the men they had left there half an hour before. - -A shriek of horror burst from Andrew Lampton. But Louden Powers only -smiled derisively. He had an iron nerve, and nothing could surprise him -very much. He had always known there were secret passages about this -strange old house, although he never had found them for himself. - -The appearance of the two ghostly personages in the bedchamber on that -night had confirmed what he had heard about the hidden places in the -house. So it did not seem so very extraordinary that Nick Carter should -suddenly show himself in the wall, by two of the large pictures. - -At first only Nick was visible to the people in the dining room. But, -as he stepped forth upon a chair, and thus to the door, he led the -escaped sick man from the hospital, while following him was the person -the two conspirators had declared to be Howard Milmarsh. - -“What, chief?” shouted Patsy Garvan, in delight. “Did you get him?” - -“By hooky,” roared Bonesy Billings. “There’s two of ’em! They look just -alike! Now I know how you told the truth, Mr. Carter, while it looked -like—like the other thing.” - -The detective only nodded, as he put a large chair for the pale-faced -invalid, and forced him into it gently. - -The belligerence had gone from the face of the newcomer. He seemed to -be wondering—that was all. - -The most peculiar thing in the whole affair was that the man who had -been set forth as the real owner of the Milmarsh estate, and who had -appeared so dazed and in such terror of Powers and Lampton, now held up -his head and actually smiled, as if a great weight had been lifted from -his shoulders. - -Louden Powers scowled at him, but he replied only by a stare of -defiance. - -“That mug is going to give the whole snap away,” muttered Andrew -Lampton, in the ear of his fellow conspirator. - -“I’ll kill him if he does,” whispered back Louden Powers. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVII. - - THE RIGHTFUL HEIR. - - -“Bring in that young lady and her father, with Chick,” ordered the -detective, as he swung the secret panel shut and nodded to Patsy. - -“Gi’ me the key, Bonesy.” - -Billings unlocked the door, and, while Patsy was absent, he stood -guard. Not that it was needed, for nobody made an attempt to get out. - -“Here they are, chief!” cried Patsy, as he came in with the three -persons he had been sent for. - -The girl would have run to the sick man as soon as she saw him, and it -could be seen that a cry of recognition was ready to spring from her -lips. - -“Not yet!” warned Nick. “Patience for just a moment!” - -She nodded obediently and sank into the chair Chick set for her. Her -father, bewildered, was already seated. - -“Now, gentlemen,” went on the detective, “in the first place. I will -ask this man, who has been posing as Howard Milmarsh, what his name -really is.” - -“What is the use of my saying?” grumbled the man he addressed. “You -know it, and, of course, these other fellows do.” He pointed to Louden -Powers and Andrew Lampton. “They thought it was a slick game, and that -we could get away with the bluff. I knew we couldn’t.” - -“You could, if you’d had any nerve,” snarled Louden Powers. “But you -never could see a thing through. You are all right at the beginning. -But you haven’t the pluck to stay with a thing to the end. You’re like -a wet firecracker. There’s a whiz and a puff, and you’re done! You make -me sick, T. Burton Potter!” - -Potter smiled. He did not care what was said, now that the truth had -come out. - -“Then, if this guy’s name is Potter, the other one must be——” began -Bonesy Billings. - -Nick held up a hand to silence him. Then he whispered to Bessie Silvius. - -“Yes, Mr. Carter,” she answered aloud. “I believe he’ll know me. I’ll -try him.” - -She stepped over to the man who had spent so long a time in the -Universal Hospital, and laid a hand on his arm. He started and looked -at her. - -“Bob!” she whispered. “Don’t you know me?” - -It was very difficult for him to draw his senses together, but it could -be seen that her voice had touched a responsive chord in his being. He -held out his hand to her. - -As she took it, he murmured brokenly: - -“Bob Gordon? Yes, that is what they call me. But—but—it isn’t quite -right. How is it—Bessie?” - -She laughed half hysterically. - -“Did you hear that, Mr. Carter? He knows me! He called me by my name! -He is coming to himself!” - -The detective shook his head doubtfully. He was willing to admit that -remembering the girl’s name was a good sign, but it was not enough. - -“Let me try,” he said. - -Touching the young man on the shoulder, he bent over and whispered -sharply in his ear: - -“Howard Milmarsh!” - -There was a slight movement. But it could not be said that the name had -brought him to his senses. He slumped down in his chair again, and in a -weary voice murmured: “Bessie!” - -“The only thing he can think of,” remarked Chick. “He’s a lucky man.” - -“I don’t see where the luck comes in, if he’s off his nut,” rejoined -Patsy. - -Bonesy Billings, Chick and Patsy were all gathered about him, each one -watching for some other indications of returning intelligence besides -that contained in the single word, “Bessie!” - -It was this moment of which Louden Powers took advantage. With a sign -to Lampton, Louden crept toward the door. - -But Nick was on the alert, even though so deeply engaged. - -“Not yet, Louden!” he shouted, as he rushed forward to cut off the -rascal’s escape. - -“Get back!” roared Powers. “You’d better, if you don’t want to get -this.” - -He had picked up a heavy, cut-glass water bottle from the table, and -was swinging it around his head. - -Nick dashed at him, and Louden let the bottle go with all his force. - -The detective ducked, and the bottle went past. - -A shriek from Bessie Silvius made him turn quickly. - -Howard Milmarsh—the real one—was lying back in his chair, and a thin, -red stream trickled over his forehead. - -“Get that fellow!” shouted Nick, over his shoulder, as he rushed to the -wounded man crumpled up in the big armchair. - -“I’ve got him, all right,” replied Bonesy Billings. - -Billings had backheeled Louden Powers just as he got to the door, and -now was kneeling on the chest of the discomfited scoundrel. - -Lampton, scared, was in his chair. He had jumped up when Louden tried -to get away. Then, seeing that the attempt would fail, he prudently -resumed his seat in a hurry. - -Nick was examining the wound, putting his handkerchief to it and noting -at the same time that the sufferer was talking rapidly. - -“It just caught him with a glancing stroke,” announced the detective. -“It jarred him, but that is all. It is not serious. Just enough of a -concussion to——” - -He stopped and looked around him, with a hopeful look in his keen, dark -eyes. - -“What’s this?” the wounded man was saying, in a natural, though weak, -voice. “Are we off the roof? Is the fire still burning? We didn’t go -through, did we? Where’s Bessie?” - -“Here I am! Here I am!” she answered eagerly. - -He took her hand and stared into her face. Then he smiled. This time it -was with as much intelligence as her own. - -“Mr. Carter! Mr. Carter!” she screamed. - -“Yes?” - -“He has got back his senses! Look at him!” - -“Do you know who you are?” asked Nick, close to him. - -“Howard Milmarsh to you, Mr. Carter. Howard Milmarsh! What is the use -of my saying my name if anything else? You know me. I don’t care who -knows it now, anyhow. I had determined to give myself up. I killed -Richard Jarvis.” - -“No, you didn’t. You’re mistaken. You did not kill him,” declared the -detective emphatically. “You will take my word, won’t you?” - -“Take your word, Mr. Carter? Of course I will—I must! But are you sure?” - -“Of course I’m sure. I can prove it.” - -“Then is Richard Jarvis alive?” - -“No. But he died by an accident—after he had quite recovered from -the blow you gave him. It was only a knock-out. He came to in a few -minutes. You were scared unnecessarily. Now you will come into your -own.” - -“But—my father? Ah, yes! I know! My poor father!” - -Tears—real, comforting, natural tears—flowed from his eyes. They would -have proved, if there had been nothing else, that Howard Milmarsh was -again himself, and that he was prepared to face whatever might be his -fate. - -Nick Carter turned away, to see what Bonesy was doing to the prostrate, -cursing Louden Powers. - -“Take him away, Billings. Lock him up in a cellar, till the police -come.” - -As Bonesy Billings promptly obeyed, by yanking Louden Powers to his -feet as if he had been a sack of oats, Andrew Lampton exclaimed, in a -terrified tone: - -“Police? Have you sent for the police?” - -Nick waited till Louden Powers was out of the room. Then he went close -to Lampton, and spoke to him quietly: - -“Look here, Lampton. I promised that if you brought T. Burton Potter to -me, I would do something for you. I will keep my word by giving you -half an hour’s start of the police. Get out! I’d advise you to get over -the Canadian border as soon as you can do it. Don’t ever show up in New -York again. If you do. I won’t answer for the consequences. Understand?” - -Andrew Lampton did understand. He was out of the house almost before -the detective had finished speaking. - -“Are you going to bring any charge against me?” whimpered T. Burton -Potter. “Or may I go?” - -“I know you are a crook, Potter. But in this case I recognize that you -were led into mischief by stronger wills than your own. Your attempt to -defraud Howard Milmarsh of his rights would mean, perhaps, ten years in -Sing Sing if the charge were pressed. But you helped me find the right -man at last, and I believe you are really sorry for what you have done.” - -“Yes. And——” - -“Get out of this house,” interrupted Nick. “The same advice I gave to -Andrew Lampton applies to you. Lose no time in jumping over the line -into Canada. You may escape that way. It is your own lookout. Go, and -may you lead a better life in future.” - -“I will!” returned T. Burton Potter earnestly. “I have had such a scare -this time that I’m through with crookedness for all time.” - -“I hope that’s true.” - -“You bet it’s true,” insisted Potter, as he hurried from the room. - -“It seems to me that you’re letting all the crooks get away, chief,” -protested Chick mildly. “I think both Potter and Lampton ought to have -been handed over to the police, with Powers.” - -“Strictly speaking, according to the law, I suppose they should,” -conceded the chief. “But I have to consider Howard Milmarsh. He has -recovered his senses, it is true—thanks to that bottle over there—but -it will be some time before it will be safe to put him through another -mental strain.” - -“I guess you’re right.” - -“Of course he’s right,” put in Patsy. “He’s always right. It seems to -me that you had a lot of nerve to tell him he wasn’t.” - -“That will do,” interposed Nick, smiling. “I can’t afford to have -my two men—both of them the most loyal lieutenants a man could -have—arguing over me.” - -“But he said——” blurted out Patsy. - -“I know what he said, and he was right, in a way. But there are -circumstances that make it desirable that Howard Milmarsh should take -possession of his estate with as little fuss as possible. I promised -his father that I would see he was allowed to do so, and that’s what I -have to do.” - - * * * * * - -It was three months after that exciting night at the great Milmarsh -mansion on the hill. Another night of an exciting nature may be -mentioned. The excitement this time was of a much more pleasant kind, -however. The wedding of Howard Milmarsh and Bessie Silvius had just -taken place. - -Nick Carter, Chick, and Patsy were all there, together with -Billings—who wore evening clothes, for the first and only time in his -life. Chick had been the best man at the ceremony, and a niece of -Captain Brown’s was the bridesmaid. - -Among the guests were all the people who had been swindled over the -Paradise City land project. They had got back their money, with a large -bonus to each person in addition, and now were there to cheer the -finest man who ever had lived in that part of the country, in their -opinion, Howard Milmarsh. - -“That’s all right, so far as it goes,” remarked Patsy Garvan to Chick, -sotto voce, “but where would Howard Milmarsh have been to-day if it -were not for the chief?” - -“That’s so,” agreed Chick. “Howard is like all of us. 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