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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..16de5dc --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63143 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63143) diff --git a/old/63143-0.txt b/old/63143-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 06fb121..0000000 --- a/old/63143-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7245 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Broken Bond, by Nicholas Carter - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. 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 Broken Bond - The Man Without Morals - -Author: Nicholas Carter - -Release Date: September 7, 2020 [eBook #63143] -[Most recently updated: April 15, 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 BROKEN BOND *** - - - - - 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 - - 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 troubles 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 Finger Prints 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 - 918—The Red Plague By Nicholas Carter - 919—Scoundrels Rampant By Nicholas Carter - 920—From Clew to Clew By Nicholas Carter - 921—When Rogues Conspire By Nicholas Carter - 922—Twelve in a Grave By Nicholas Carter - 923—The Great Opium Case By Nicholas Carter - 924—A Conspiracy of Rumors By Nicholas Carter - 925—A Klondike Claim By Nicholas Carter - 926—The Evil Formula By Nicholas Carter - 927—The Man of Many Faces By Nicholas Carter - 928—The Great Enigma By Nicholas Carter - 929—The Burden of Proof By Nicholas Carter - 930—The Stolen Brain By Nicholas Carter - 931—A Titled Counterfeiter By Nicholas Carter - 932—The Magic Necklace By Nicholas Carter - 933—’Round the World for a Quarter By Nicholas Carter - 934—Over the Edge of the World By Nicholas Carter - 935—In the Grip of Fate By Nicholas Carter - 936—The Case of Many Clews By Nicholas Carter - 937—The Sealed Door By Nicholas Carter - 938—Nick Carter and the Green Goods Men By Nicholas Carter - 939—The Man Without a Will By Nicholas Carter - 940—Tracked Across the Atlantic By Nicholas Carter - 941—A Clew From the Unknown By Nicholas Carter - 942—The Crime of a Countess By Nicholas Carter - 943—A Mixed Up Mess By Nicholas Carter - 944—The Great Money Order Swindle By Nicholas Carter - 945—The Adder’s Brood By Nicholas Carter - 946—A Wall Street Haul By Nicholas Carter - 947—For a Pawned Crown By Nicholas Carter - - - - - A BROKEN BOND - - OR, - - THE MAN WITHOUT MORALS - - - 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, 1917 - By Street & Smith Corporation - - A Broken Bond - - - (Printed in the United States of America) - - All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign - languages, including the Scandinavian. - - - - - A BROKEN BOND. - - - - - CHAPTER I. - - A SHOT FROM AMBUSH. - - -Behind a big rock which looked down over the wide, straggling road that -ran upward through the mountains crouched a long, lean figure. Snuggled -against his right shoulder was a rifle, and the bearded face beneath -the broad-brimmed panama was turned toward the roadway below. The hot -sun beat down remorselessly, and its blinding rays were reflected from -the rocks. Perspiration poured down the man’s face, and now and then -he moved impatiently to brush away some buzzing insect. His head was -raised slightly above the level of the rock, and from his point of -vantage a splendid panorama spread out beneath him. - -To his left lay the mountains, blue, remote, and full of rugged dignity -all their own. To his right, a fertile South American valley revealed -itself in the shimmering distance. Occasionally, as a light puff of -wind came up from the lowlands, it brought with it the dull, heavy -noise of an engine at work. - -Half an hour passed, and then the first sign of life was revealed in -the roadway below. There appeared round a bend a long line of mules, -each of them burdened with two big packs. In front of the train of -mules walked a white man clad in dingy overalls. - -The figure crouching behind the rock moved slightly and seemed to grow -tense and expectant, while the eyes in the bearded face glinted as they -peered down at the road. - -Nothing happened, however. The mules plodded on, with their leader -striding away ahead of them, and the lonely sentinel watched them until -they had passed down the road and had vanished below the level of the -rise which led them on to the plains. - -“He ought to be coming soon now.” - -The man spoke aloud, and there was a curious, metallic sound in his -rasping voice. - -Ten minutes passed, and then the clear, drumming sound of a horse’s -hoofs came to him, and presently around the same jagged spur there -appeared the figure of a man on horseback. He was riding along at a -good pace, but the reins were lying loosely across the horse’s neck, -and the animal was picking its way unguided down the rough surface of -the road. Evidently it was on a familiar trail. - -At the sight, the lurking figure grew tenser still, and the sound of -a low growl, almost animal-like in character, might have been heard. -Slowly the rifle was nestled closer to the shoulder. The panama hat, -being too conspicuous, was pulled off and dropped behind him, after -which the bare, rather bald head was lowered until the right cheek -touched the stock of the gun. The left eye was closed, and the right -sighted along the barrel, which at the same time was shifted, following -the man on horseback. - -A few moments passed, during which the down-pointed muzzle shifted like -a spy-glass, following the moving object. Then—— - -Crack! Into the still air a blue puff of smoke rose and hung for a -moment above the rock. The drone of the bullet sounded clearly down the -edge of the slope as the deadly missile hurled itself toward its mark. -A quick cry came up from the roadway, and the weapon was stealthily -withdrawn. - -Quickly, however, the man behind the rock peered down, but when he did -so he saw that blind chance had stepped in and thwarted him. The horse -had apparently stumbled on a loose rock just as the shot was fired, and -had reared back slightly to recover its footing; therefore, it was into -the animal’s soft, rounded neck that the heavy bullet had bored its -way, and not into the more precious target at which it had been aimed. - -The creature was now lying in the roadway, and the convulsive movements -of its limbs could be seen dimly through the little cloud of dust which -had been raised by its fall. - -The man on the horse’s back had been hurled in a heap by the side of -the road, but as his would-be murderer watched, he saw him rise to -his feet and stare up in the general direction of the rock from which -the shot had been fired. Warned by that movement, the skulker swiftly -jerked his head back and crouched still lower in his place. - -“Curse him!” the hard voice grated. “He always has the fiend’s own -luck!” - -Grasping his rifle and hat, but still keeping on hands and knees, he -began instinctively to crawl away under cover of the rock. He had gone -no more than a yard, though, before he paused irresolutely and his -fingers sought his belt. - -There were other bullets in that belt, but the man’s failure had -unnerved him, and a certain fatalistic instinct told him that he was -not likely to succeed in a second attempt, now that the first had come -to naught. The figure in the road would be on its guard now, and if -another shot missed its mark, the point from which it had been fired -would almost certainly be located. From that would only be a step to -the discovery of the shooter’s identity, and the latter did not care -to contemplate such a possibility. Consequently, with a snakelike -movement, the lean figure resumed its progress away from the rocks, -and presently, having reached the protection of large bowlders, -straightened up a little more and increased its pace. - -The fugitive knew that the man he had tried to kill was more than -usually fond of the dying horse, and would probably delay at its side -for a precious minute or two before attempting to solve the mystery of -the shot. That delay promised to enable him to make good his escape, -and he was resolved to take every possible advantage of it. For -perhaps fifteen minutes he doubled and twisted, now ascending and now -descending the foothills. At the end of that time he had reached the -road again, and, watching his chance, dodged across it. This latest -move brought him into thick woods, through which he hurriedly threaded -his way in the direction of the valley. - -He hid his rifle in a hollow tree, and when he reached the little -mining camp he had cunningly concealed all evidence of agitation or -guilt. - -The knowledge of the act was not destined to remain locked in his own -breast, however, as he was soon to learn. At his destination, the -Condor Mine, he found Charlie Floyd, the mine’s physician, waiting for -him, and wearing a very stern expression. - -“I have something important to say to you, Mr. Stone,” the young doctor -said grimly, and led the way to a spot where they were out of earshot. - -“What’s up?” demanded Stone, who was one of the two original owners of -the mine. He and his partner, Winthrop Crawford, had only recently sold -out for a cool million. - -“Much,” was the grave answer. “I happened to be roaming about in the -foothills back there a little while ago, and I saw you take that pot -shot at Mr. Crawford.” - -“What are you raving about?” growled Stone, with the greatest apparent -surprise. - -“I’m not raving at all, Mr. Stone. I always carry field glasses on my -walks, as you know, and, being startled by the shot, I looked in that -direction, saw the puff of smoke from behind the rock, and leveled -my glasses on the spot. I saw you when you looked down to see if the -bullet had done its work; saw you as plainly as if you had been not -more than ten feet away. There’s no possibility of a mistake. I was -in a position to watch your movements afterward, and saw you sneaking -away. I recognized your hat, too.” - -Stone had wilted at first when the field glasses were mentioned, but -now he seemed to have plucked up fresh courage, and even assumed a -defiant attitude. - -“Well, what are you going to do about it?” he demanded. “One or the -other of us will have to kick the bucket sooner or later. Crawford has -it in for me, and I only acted in self-defense. If I don’t get him -first, he’ll get me as sure as fate.” - -The young physician looked at him searchingly, but there was much more -of pity than condemnation in his glance. - -“You needn’t be afraid that I’m going to give you up to justice, Mr. -Stone,” he said, after a pause. “You’ll resent it, of course, but I’m -pretty sure that you’re not responsible for your actions. I hold your -liberty, if not your life, in my hands, though, and I’m going to name a -condition in return for my silence.” - - - - - CHAPTER II. - - THE WITNESS MAKES CONDITIONS. - - -James Stone assumed a belligerent attitude. - -“What do you mean by saying I’m not accountable?” he blustered. “You -think I’m crazy?” - -“I wouldn’t use quite such a harsh word,” was the reply. “But I’ve been -watching you for some time, and I’m certain that your mind is slightly -affected. This grouch of yours against Mr. Crawford is entirely -uncalled-for, and everybody knows it but you. He’s the best friend you -have in the world, and would do anything and everything for you. Until -lately you’ve been the same toward him, and there’s nothing that could -have caused such a breach. Mr. Crawford wouldn’t harm a hair of your -head, and you wouldn’t think of harming him if you were yourself.” - -“Rot!” exclaimed Stone. “You don’t know anything about it, Floyd, -and it’s none of your business; it’s nobody’s business but ours. -Something has come between us, and you’ll have to take my word for -it that Crawford has got it in for me. He’s a deep one. You’d think -butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, but all the time he’s scheming to -finish his old partner. I know, and I’m not going to have any young -whipper-snapper tell me to my face that I’m crazy.” - -Charlie Floyd’s lips tightened. - -“Would you prefer to be branded as a would-be assassin, Mr. Stone?” he -asked cuttingly. “I’m putting the most innocent interpretation I can to -your act, and if you know what’s good for yourself you’ll accept it as -the lesser of two evils. You have a great deal more influence here than -I have in most ways, but you know that Mr. Crawford is more popular -than you. You’ve lost your popularity in these last few months by your -dogged, brooding manner and your harsh words. If I should reveal this -attempt of yours on your partner’s life, you know perfectly well that -it would go hard with you. No one would have any sympathy for you, and -you’d get the limit. Just think of that before you call me names, and -remember that I have it in my power to break you. Now will you listen -to what I have to say?” - -The miner moistened his lips and glanced about with shifty eyes. - -“I’ll listen, Charlie,” he said, with a suggestion of a whine in his -tone. “It ain’t pleasant to be called crazy, you know, but if you’ll -stand by me I’ll make it worth your while.” - -The young physician knew at once what he meant. - -“None of that, Mr. Stone!” he said quickly. “I don’t want a cent of -your money. I would not keep silent for the whole five hundred thousand -they say you received for your half interest in the Condor. I’m making -this offer simply for your own good. I really believe you’re not -responsible for your recent actions, but I feel sure there isn’t much -the matter with you. For that reason I want to shield you from the -consequences if I can, and try to set you on the road to recovery. You -and Crawford are going to New York soon, aren’t you?” - -“That’s the plan—by the next boat,” was the sullen reply. “We figured -it out before this came up, and of course I was anxious to get back -home when I’d made my pile. I haven’t been back in twenty-five years. -When this break came, though, I wasn’t keen on going back with Win. But -he wouldn’t hear of anything else. I reckon he thinks the trip will -give him a good chance to polish me off.” - -“The plan still holds good, then?” - -“Yes. I ain’t a coward, and if one of us doesn’t get the other before, -then you won’t find me backing out.” - -Young Floyd’s brows were knit, and he gazed absent-mindedly at the -ground for some moments. - -“Well,” he said at length, “it’s a big responsibility to take, and I -don’t know that I ought to assume it, but there doesn’t seem to be -anything else to do—short of giving you up.” - -His eyes sought Stone’s and held them. - -“Mr. Stone,” he continued, speaking slowly, “I need not repeat that I’m -in a position to cause your arrest at any moment, and to give the most -damaging testimony against you. I don’t want to do it, because of what -I believe in regard to your condition, but you may be sure that I’ll -do it at the drop of the hat if anything happens to Mr. Crawford or if -you make any other attempt on his life. Now, remembering that, will you -give me your solemn promise—will you swear, in fact—that you’ll have no -other crime against you, and that when you reach New York you’ll do as -I say?” - -The bronzed miner hesitated for some time, then held out his hand, -which Floyd took. - -“I swear to you, Charlie,” he said, “that I won’t start anything -myself, if that’s what you want. Of course, if Crawford tries anything -on me I’ll have to defend myself. You couldn’t expect me to take it -without lifting a finger.” - -“Certainly not,” the young doctor agreed. “Mind you, though, you’ve got -to refrain from anything hostile, unless you actually catch him in an -attempt on you—which is out of the question, as he would be incapable -of doing such a thing.” - -“Incapable your grandmother!” was the scornful response. “You don’t -know Win Crawford as well as I do. I’ve given you my word, though. Now -what else do you want?” - -“I want you to remember what will happen to you if you fail to keep -this oath. Will you?” - -“I ain’t likely to forget. Is that all? What was it you wanted me to do -in New York?” - -“To go to see some one who can help you, if any one can.” - -“You mean a doctor?” - -“Yes, a great one—the head of one of the biggest hospitals in the city.” - -“Look here!” Stone burst out angrily. “Are you trying to have me sent -to an asylum?” - -“Not at all,” Floyd hastened to say in a soothing tone. “Doctor -Follansbee isn’t very keen on asylums, except as a last resort. He’s -a famous specialist in nervous and mental diseases, but his chief aim -is always to keep people out of asylums, if possible; in other words, -to cure them without interfering with their liberty or branding them -as insane. I desire you to go to him—in fact, I must insist upon your -doing so, if I’m to shield you from the consequences of this morning’s -act. If, as I suspect, your mind is slightly affected in this one -respect, he may be able to help you very easily, and if he does, -you’ll never cease to be grateful to him. If, on the other hand, he -finds you perfectly sane, there will be nothing more to be said, and -I’ll continue to keep silence unless you make some further attempt on -Mr. Crawford. You need not fear to consult Doctor Follansbee. As I -say, he’ll never think of sending a man like you to an asylum, and, -as people go to him for all sorts of nervous troubles as well as for -operations, no one outside will draw any conclusions if your visit to -him is known. Will you promise to call on him as soon as you reach New -York?” - -“I suppose so,” Stone agreed reluctantly. “It’s mighty hard lines to be -ordered about like this, and sent to one of those confounded alienist -fellows, but you’ve got the whip hand just now, Charlie, and it’s up to -me to take my medicine. Where will I find the wonderful Follansbee?” - -Doctor Floyd took a letter from his pocket, removed the envelope, and -scribbled the name and address on the back. When he handed it to Stone -the latter read: - -“Doctor Stephen Follansbee, St. Swithin’s Hospital, Amsterdam Avenue, -New York City.” - -“There you are,” Floyd said. “I know you don’t want to do this, Mr. -Stone, and that it’s all you can stand to have me make this condition, -but I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with it. It’s that—or the other, -and I imagine you would find a trial and conviction for attempted -murder a little more irksome than either of the things I have asked you -to do.” - -“I guess that’s right,” admitted the miner. “You’re a good fellow, -Charlie, and I know you mean well. You’ve rubbed it in pretty -thoroughly, and there’s a lot you don’t understand; but I reckon I’m -lucky at that. I’ll keep my hands off Win Crawford until I’ve the -chance to see this Follansbee person. After that—well, we’ll see what -we shall see.” - -“That’s all I can ask at present,” Floyd returned, “and you can rely -on Doctor Follansbee’s word. He’s a queer-looking individual, and -very eccentric. You needn’t be surprised if he seems to agree with -everything you say about Mr. Crawford. His methods are all his own, -and they seem very peculiar at times, but he gets results in the most -wonderful way. I know, because I studied under him in medical school. -He’s far from a beauty, and has a manner which antagonizes a good many, -but he’s too big to care about that. Here comes Mr. Crawford, though. -Remember your promise, and don’t try any tricks!” - - - - - CHAPTER III. - - AN UNFORTUNATE LETTER. - - -The young physician halted at a little distance and watched the meeting -between the two partners. - -Crawford had been trudging along with head bent, as if brooding over -the loss of his faithful animal and the mystery of that unexpected -shot, but when he looked up at length and saw Stone, he hastened his -steps and called after him. - -His genial greeting was borne to Floyd’s ears. - -“Hello, Jimmy!” Crawford shouted. “How’s the boy this morning?” - -There was nothing for Stone to do but to halt and turn. He nodded -curtly, however, and when they walked on together, it was evident that -Crawford was doing all the talking. - -“That’s a queer deal,” thought Floyd, with a puzzled, apprehensive look -on his face. “If Stone isn’t touched in the head, I’ll miss my guess, -but I can’t imagine what the cause of it is. They’ve been pals for -years, and have gone through thick and thin together. Their friendship -has been the talk of this mining country for I don’t know how long, -and Crawford seems to be as fond of his partner as ever, in spite of -all the rebuffs he has given him lately. I’m afraid I’ve made a big -mistake and been altogether too easy on Stone. I’d never forgive myself -if anything happened to Crawford, but it didn’t seem right to make the -other suffer for that insane act.” - -He went about his duties in an absent-minded way, however, and had done -a great deal of thinking before he encountered Crawford that afternoon, -as he was making his rounds. The two men greeted each other cordially, -and after Floyd had looked about to see that they were unobserved he -said quickly: - -“I’ll walk along for a short distance with you, if I may, Mr. Crawford. -I find myself in a very difficult position, and what I’ve decided to -say seems like a very serious breach of confidence. I feel that I must -say it, though, because otherwise the responsibility would be too heavy -for me to bear.” - -Crawford looked at him keenly. - -“Is it about Jimmy Stone?” he asked. - -“How did you guess?” was the surprised query. - -“Oh, I’m not blind, Charlie, and I can put two and two together. Jimmy -hasn’t been himself for months, and I know others have noticed it. I -saw him talking with you this morning. Have you any idea what is the -matter with him?” - -The young physician tapped his forehead significantly. - -“I’m afraid it’s—a little of that,” he answered reluctantly. - -“You do? I feared something of the sort, but I hoped I was mistaken. -What a pity! Jimmy has always been one of the finest and whitest men -that ever stepped the earth, and a friend worth having. I’ve worried -and worried over him lately, and tried to recall anything I had said -or done that might have turned him against me. I haven’t been able to -think of a thing that any man in his sound sense would resent to such -an extent, and I’ve been obliged to come to the conclusion that he was -not altogether responsible. Do you think anything can be done for him? -We’ve both got plenty of money now, and I’m ready and willing——” - -“I’m sure you are, Mr. Crawford,” Floyd assured him, “and I hope -Mr. Stone can be helped. In fact, I’m almost sure he can be. He’s -absolutely normal in every other way, and this change is so recent that -the trouble can’t be very deep-seated. He has promised me that he will -consult a famous alienist in New York.” - -“He has?” - -Crawford gave a start as he put the question. - -“Then you’ve actually talked with him about it?” he went on -wonderingly. “Has he sought your advice?” - -“Hardly,” was the reply. “I butted in, and, of course, he was up in -arms in a moment. Nobody likes to be called crazy—least of all a crazy -man. It had to be done, though. If I tell you something, will you give -me your word not to use it in any way against Mr. Stone?” - -“Of course. I’d protect Jimmy’s life at the risk of my own any day.” - -“I haven’t a doubt of it, but this is asking a great deal of you. Mr. -Crawford, it was—it was your partner who fired that shot at you this -morning.” - -Crawford gave the young doctor a long, searching look, and then said -quietly: - -“That isn’t exactly news to me, Charlie. I guessed as much.” - -“You did? And yet you could greet him as you did?” - -“Why not? It was not the Jimmy Stone I’ve known for twenty years or -more who did it. It was this surly, glowering chap who has stepped into -his shoes. I don’t bear any ill will—I can’t. I’ve been looking for -something of the sort, and of course I’ve tried to protect myself and -shall continue to do so. I have no intention of having him confined, -though, and you must promise me that you won’t take any such steps. -There’s no danger to any one else, and if I choose to run the risk it’s -my own business.” - -“I knew that would be your attitude,” Floyd told him, “and I allowed -myself to promise Mr. Stone that on certain conditions I would not play -the part of informer.” - -“You accused him of it, then?” - -“Yes. I witnessed the whole thing, and told him I had done so. I used -my knowledge to extract a couple of promises from him, but since then -I’ve been wondering if I did right. I’ve worried a lot about the -possible consequences to you, and finally I made up my mind that I’d -simply have to warn you. Strictly speaking, I didn’t give my word to -say nothing to you. I simply agreed not to inform the authorities; but -of course Stone did not dream that I would tell you, and I feel like -a sneak in doing so. I couldn’t bear to let you remain in ignorance, -however, for if I had, I would have felt that I was indirectly -responsible if anything happened to you.” - -Crawford nodded slowly and gripped the young physician’s shoulder. - -“I understand, Charlie,” he said. “It was a knotty problem, but you’ve -solved it the best you knew how, and I thank you for your warning, -although it wasn’t necessary. What were the promises Jimmy gave you?” - -“I made him swear that he would make no further attempt on you -unless in self-defense. Nothing can persuade him, you know, that you -aren’t gunning for him, but I knew if he kept that promise nothing -would happen. It was a long chance to take with a man in his mental -condition, I suppose, but I couldn’t bear the thought of giving him up -to justice.” - -Crawford nodded understandingly. - -“Nor can I,” he said. “I hope he’ll keep the promise, knowing the light -in which your testimony would place him if he didn’t, but I don’t -intend to change my plans in the least. I’ll keep an eye on him as best -I can, but we’ll travel together unless he refuses. If he finishes -me—well, so be it. The responsibility will be mine, not yours. But what -about the other promise? Was it that he should seek the advice of a -specialist in New York?” - -“Yes. I gave him the name of Doctor Stephen Follansbee, the famous -head of St. Swithin’s Hospital. Doctor Follansbee is at the top of his -profession in New York, and has a great reputation for handling such -cases in an unusual way without resorting to the customary confinement -of the patient.” - -“Good! Nothing could be better! If Jimmy goes to him, we’ll hope that -all will come out right, and that I’ll soon have my old partner back. -I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Charlie, but we’d better -separate now. If Jimmy should happen to see us together, or hear that -we had been, he might smell a rat and make things decidedly unpleasant -for you.” - -They shook hands again and separated, but Doctor Floyd felt that he -had one more duty to perform that day. When he returned to the rough -little shack which he occupied, his first act after supper was to sit -down and write a rather lengthy letter. It was addressed to his former -professor, Doctor Follansbee, and in it he gave the celebrated alienist -a history of James Stone’s case, so far as he knew it. He wished -Follansbee to receive the letter before Stone’s arrival, and to have -something else to go on besides the man’s own statements. - -Incidentally, knowing that Follansbee’s charges were very high, he -thought best to mention the facts concerning the recent sale of the -mine. He informed the specialist that Stone and Crawford had been equal -partners in the Condor, and that the share of each was reputed to be -five hundred thousand dollars. For no particular reason, he added that -so far as was known Stone and Crawford were alone in the world, and -that the general understanding was that each had drawn a will in favor -of the other before the estrangement had come about. - -Young Floyd was nothing if not thorough, but had he known the -consequences which would follow the writing of that letter he would -have cut off his right hand rather than send it. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - - CRAWFORD IS TROUBLED. - - -The boat deck of the _Cortez_ was of wide expanse, shaded by gleaming -canvas. - -The South American liner had just passed Sandy Hook, bound inward, and -was making its stately way toward New York harbor. It was late in the -evening, and in a couple of deck chairs two figures were seated. The -men were chatting together quietly. The taller of the two, clean-shaven -and keen-faced, was puffing contentedly on a fragrant Havana. - -They were Nick Carter, the distinguished New York detective, and his -leading assistant, Chick Carter, who were returning from a couple of -weeks’ holiday spent in Jamaica. The _Cortez_ had touched at Kingston -on its way north from South American ports, and it was there that the -detective and his assistant had come on board. - -“Evidently we won’t be home until to-morrow morning,” Chick Carter said -quietly. “It will be too late for disembarking to-night. Of course we -could get a special dispensation, if necessary, but I don’t believe in -pulling wires unless there’s need for it. All the same, I’ll be glad to -get back into harness again.” - -Chick grinned in the darkness. He had enjoyed their short stay in -beautiful Jamaica, but he had noted that his chief had chafed at the -idleness, especially during the last few days. - -“Let’s hope there’s something waiting for us that will let us sit up -and take notice,” he said. “I feel fit to tackle anything.” - -They were both in evening dress and awaiting the sound of the dinner -gong, which soon called them to the saloon. - -There were over fifty first-class passengers on board, and at the -detective’s table were two men who had interested him. They sat side by -side opposite to him, and their broad shoulders and tanned features -told plainly that they were men who had spent the greater part of their -years out of doors in some hot country. - -Their manners and dress were curiously alike, but their faces differed -greatly. The man who sat on the right, and who Nick had found out was -Winthrop Crawford, had an open, kindly countenance. The trim gray beard -did not quite hide the friendly lines about the mouth; and the eyes, -although set in a network of wrinkles—such as one always notices on -the faces of those who have peered long over sun-drenched stretches of -plain or mountain—were wide and blue and looked out on the world in a -genial fashion. - -His companion, however, was almost the opposite, so far as looks were -concerned. There was nothing repellent about his features, to be sure, -but his expression was far from agreeable. His eyes were hard and -suspicious, his lips usually wore either a snarl or a sneer, and his -brows were drawn together with a surly frown most of the time. - -It was the head steward who had told Nick the names of the two men, and -had also added the information that they had been until recently joint -owners of a big silver mine in South America. - -The second man, James Stone, was the older of the two, and it was -his peculiar manner that had interested the detective first of all. -During the four or five days since Carter and his assistant had boarded -the _Cortez_, they had never heard Stone say more than half a dozen -words at a time to any one, even to his companion, Crawford. At the -table Nick noted that Crawford often tried to engage his partner in -conversation, but his efforts were always doomed to failure. Moreover, -the detective had observed the perplexed, anxious look which had come -into Crawford’s eyes many times after these rebuffs. - -The two mining men were in their places when Carter and Chick dropped -into their seats. Once or twice in the course of the meal the detective -caught Crawford glancing across at him with a look of interest, and -wondered what it meant. He was not surprised, therefore, when, after -the meal was over and he had entered the smoking room, he heard a voice -at his elbow, and, turning round, saw the bearded face of Winthrop -Crawford at his side. - -“I hope you’ll excuse me, Mr. Carter,” the man said in a deep, -melodious voice, “but I’ve just heard from the steward who you are, and -I’d like to make your acquaintance.” - -As a judge of character Nick Carter had no superior, and he saw that -the man in front of him was of the sterling, honest type; therefore, he -had no hesitation in holding out his hand. - -“It’s only another case of diamond cut diamond, Mr. Crawford,” he -answered, with a smile, “for I must also plead guilty to having made -inquiries about you.” - -Crawford pulled out a cigar case, and Nick accepted the “weed,” after -which they strolled across the big room and seated themselves on a -comfortable settee. - -“I’m returning to New York after an absence of a quarter of a -century,” Crawford explained, “and I don’t believe I know a single soul -there.” - -“You are taking a well-earned vacation, I suppose?” the detective -remarked. - -“Something of the sort,” was the answer. “As a matter of fact, I have -no occupation now, since my partner and I have sold out our mining -interests in South America. I have nothing definite in view, but I’m -sure I shan’t be content to remain idle for long.” - -He leaned back and puffed at his cigar. - -“I’ve had a pretty tough time of it,” he went on. “The usual experience -of those who knock about the world seeking their fortunes; but I think -I can safely say that I’m secure now for the rest of my life—unless I -make a fool of myself.” - -“I’m very glad to hear of it,” Nick declared heartily. “I understood -that you and Mr. Stone had been fortunate.” - -Crawford nodded his head, but a shadow passed over his face. - -“It isn’t necessary to go into details, Mr. Carter,” he replied, “but -your informant was quite correct. Stone and I discovered and developed -the Condor Mine in Brazil. We worked it ourselves for over a year, and -then decided to sell out and come back home. It netted us about half a -million apiece. That’s very little, of course, as you count wealth up -here, but it’s enough for us to live on in comfort for the rest of our -lives. We have no one dependent on us—unfortunately.” - -“I’m sure you deserve it all,” the detective told him warmly. - -Crawford’s eyes grew misty with a host of memories of hard days and -lean ones—days when the nearest approach to a meal had been another -notch in the belt and the hope of something more substantial on the -morrow. - -“Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “I’ve earned it; and that brings me to -something I wanted to say. I’m a little afraid of your New York, Mr. -Carter. I know much more about prospecting than I do about finance. As -I’ve told you, there’s nothing to occupy my mind, and I suppose I’ll -soon be looking about for investments. If I’m not very careful, I’m -likely to fall among thieves.” - -He leaned across and placed his hand on Nick’s arm. - -“Even in South America we hear of Nick Carter,” he said, with a quiet -nod of his grizzled head, “and I count it a very fortunate chance that -I should have run across you here on this vessel. I have engaged rooms -at the Hotel Windermere, and I’ll be very glad if you’ll give me your -address. I should like to have some one to go to for advice if I find -that the sharks begin to gather.” - -Then, as the detective remained silent, Crawford went on: - -“It must be a strictly business undertaking, you understand. If I’m -doubtful about any concern or individual, I would like to call on you -and have you give me a report. I should expect you to make the usual -charge for such work—in fact, I would be willing to pay more than that, -because, as a friendless man who doesn’t understand the game, I would -profit more than usual by such invaluable assistance.” - -There was something curiously winning about Crawford’s voice, and the -man appealed strongly to Nick. The sort of assistance he asked for was -hardly in the detective’s line, but the simple, direct appeal gained -the day. - -“Very well,” he said, taking out his case and handing a card to -Crawford. “Let’s hope for your sake that you won’t have any very urgent -need of me, but here’s my address, and you can ring me up at any time. -I shall be very glad to do anything I can.” - -Crawford had just placed the card in his pocket when the door of the -smoking room opened and James Stone appeared. There was a little bar at -one end of the room, and it was toward this that Crawford’s partner was -headed. Stone’s eyes traveled across to Crawford, and the latter made -a move as though to rise to his feet, but his partner turned his head -away quickly and went on his way. There was more than a suggestion of -surliness, if not of enmity, in the way he ignored Crawford, and the -latter leaned back again with an involuntary sigh. - -Nick caught his eye. - -“I can’t make it out,” Crawford said at last, the troubled expression -deepening on his face. “I suppose you’ve noted that Stone and I hardly -exchange a word.” - - - - - CHAPTER V. - - ANOTHER MURDEROUS ATTACK. - - -“I must admit that I have noticed it,” Nick returned, “and it struck me -as being rather curious, under the circumstances.” - -“It beats me,” Crawford declared, glancing down at the bar, where the -broad-shouldered figure of his old comrade was standing. “Jimmy and I -have been chums for years. We’ve worked together and starved together, -and five years ago he saved my life at the risk of his own. He dived -into a flooded river, and it was touch and go whether he brought me out -or not.” - -The deep voice shook for a moment. “It’s beyond me,” he continued. “For -the last few months he’s been a changed man. I can hardly get a word -out of him, and many times I’ve caught him looking at me as though I -were his bitterest enemy.” - -There was no doubting the sincerity of Crawford’s emotions. His tanned -face twitched, and his hard, work-worn hands were clasped in a tight -grip as they rested on his knees. - -“Something has gone wrong,” he concluded, “but what it is Heaven only -knows. Would you believe me if I told you that he——” - -The detective waited curiously, but Crawford did not complete the -sentence, and a little silence fell between the two. - -As Stone had tossed off his drink, he passed them once more. When he -reached the door, however, he halted for a moment, then, swinging -around on his heel, beckoned to Crawford. It was almost a gasp of -relief that broke from the latter’s lips as he rose. - -“Hello!” he murmured. “He wants to speak to me, does he? Excuse me, Mr. -Carter.” - -The eager way in which he hurried toward his partner revealed to the -detective how anxious he was to make friends again. - -The two figures passed out through the doorway, and Nick mechanically -picked up a magazine from a neighboring table. Half an hour passed; -then, leaving the smoking room, the detective went off in search of -Chick. His young assistant was not to be seen, and presently Carter -returned to the boat deck, found a quiet gap between two suspended -boats, and, leaning on the rail, watched the distant lights along the -coast. - -Perhaps fifteen minutes later the detective heard a quick, muffled cry, -followed by the creak of a boat as some heavy object swung against it. -He straightened up and listened. A moment later a half-choked voice -came to him: - -“Jim! Jim! Good heavens! Are you trying to murder me?” - -Nick recognized the voice as that of Crawford’s, and, with a swift -bound, he leaped out of the dark gap between the boats in which he had -stood concealed. - -Sprinting forward along the deserted deck, he followed the direction -of the sound, and in another gap he saw standing out against the -background of the sea two struggling figures. They were locked in -each other’s arms, and one of them was swaying out over the rail at a -perilous angle. The detective saw that the figure of the man bending -over the rail was that of Crawford, and above him, with his fingers -clutched tightly around his throat, was James Stone. The former was -clutching at the murderous wrists of his companion, trying to release -the fierce grip, but even as Nick sighted them Stone made another -vicious lunge, and Crawford’s body was all but thrust out over the rail -into the sea. - -A swift, horrified spring carried Nick into the gap between the boats, -and realizing that there was not a moment to spare, he flung himself -at Stone. It was a straight-arm blow that the detective gave, with -the swift, trained precision of an experienced athlete. The great -detective’s bunched fist landed full on the hard, dogged face of James -Stone with resistless force. A strangled oath broke from the miner’s -lips, and he staggered back against the bow of the swinging boat, -releasing Crawford as he did so. - -Nick saw the unfortunate man’s body sway over the rail, and with a -headlong leap the detective hurled himself forward, gripping at the -toppling man. He was only just in the nick of time. His fingers caught -the ends of Crawford’s evening coat, and for a long tense moment he -hung over the rail, clutching in that way the otherwise unsupported -body of the miner. It was well for Crawford that the muscles of those -two arms were of a man much beyond the average strength. Carter felt as -though his arms were being pulled out of their sockets, but presently -he gathered himself for an extra effort, and slowly and carefully -pulled the swaying man upward until Crawford was able to grasp the rail -in his hands. A moment later, Nick had shifted his grasp until his -palms were under the man’s shoulders, and then with a tug Crawford was -lifted over the rail and deposited safely on the deck. - -The perspiration was pouring from the detective’s face, and his breath -was coming and going in great, choking pants, for Crawford was a heavy -man and the bodily effort had been a tremendous one. The miner clung to -the rail for a few moments, steadying himself there. Through the gloom -Nick could see the bearded face and the blue eyes fixed on his own. -At that instant, a quick, shuffling footfall came to the detective’s -ears, and he turned quickly around in time to see the figure of Stone -gliding like a black shadow along the pale, canvas-covered side of the -suspended boat. - -“Oh, no, you don’t, you confounded rascal!” Nick broke out, as he -started to follow the man. - -But before he could do so, Crawford reeled, stepped toward him, and -clutched him by the arm. - -“It’s—it’s you, Carter?” the miner breathed. - -“Yes. Let me go, though. I don’t want that scoundrel to get away.” - -Crawford’s fingers tightened their hold on his sleeve. - -“Don’t follow him! Let him go—for my sake!” he pleaded. - -Nick paused and peered with surprise into the man’s face. - -“I suppose you know what you’re saying?” the detective asked, in a -strange voice. - -“Perfectly.” - -“But that fellow tried to murder you.” - -“I know that only too well.” - -“And you mean to say you’re not going to lodge a complaint against him -or do anything in the matter?” - -The bearded face shone in the dusk. - -“That man will never be accused by me,” Crawford said positively. -“Don’t you recognize him?” - -The detective shrugged his shoulders. - -“Yes, I recognize him, all right,” he said. “It was Stone, your -partner, and also—if I had not come on the scene just when I did—your -murderer.” - -Crawford came closer to Carter and thrust his arm through that of the -detective. - -“That may be,” he said, “but I can’t forget that he’s also the man who -once saved my life, who has shared his last crust with me again and -again.” - -Then, as an exclamation of impatience broke from Nick’s lips, the miner -went on: - -“Oh, yes, I know that you think me a fool. You will think me even a -greater when I tell you that this is not the first time. He has tried -to do the same thing on this very voyage—to say nothing of an attempt -before we left South America.” - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - THE LOVE OF COMRADES. - - -“Good heavens!” Nick Carter broke out. “Do you actually mean to tell me -that he has attacked you before?” - -“I do,” the deep voice replied. “He tried to shoot me from ambush a -week or so before we left Brazil, and just prior to our arrival at -Kingston he made another attempt. He was not nearly so successful that -time, though. I managed to overpower him.” - -They were pacing along the dark deck now, and Nick heard the man by his -side draw a deep breath. - -“Something has gone wrong with Jimmy Stone,” he said quietly. “You -don’t know him as I do, Carter. Up to a short six months ago he was -like a brother to me. Man, I tell you that Jim Stone is the only person -in the world that I—I care two straws about. You know what it means to -men who have lived and starved together.” - -The rich voice stopped, and Nick caught something that was suspiciously -like a suppressed sob. Involuntarily he paused, and Crawford halted for -a moment, his shoulders shaking. - -A strong man’s grief is a terrible thing to witness, and the detective -felt himself tongue-tied. - -“My friend—my old comrade!” Crawford went on huskily. “Trying to murder -me! By Heaven, Carter, it almost breaks my heart!” - -He swung around suddenly and caught Nick by the arm again. - -“I want you to keep this thing a secret,” he said earnestly. “Jim -isn’t accountable for this mood that has been on him for the last few -months—he isn’t accountable for his actions. I had feared for some time -that there was a little trouble with his brain, and my suspicions were -confirmed before we left South America.” - -He then went on to tell in detail of Stone’s attempt to shoot him, as -revealed by the young physician; of the latter’s opinion of Stone’s -sanity—or, rather, insanity—and finally of the promise Floyd had wrung -from the misguided man. - -He told the detective that Stone had reluctantly agreed to consult a -famous specialist, but only because he had felt compelled to do so in -order to stop Floyd’s mouth. Unfortunately, however, he had forgotten -the specialist’s name and that of the hospital of which he was the head. - -Had Nick learned those important facts, there might have been a -different story to tell. - -“You will help me shield him, won’t you, Carter?” Crawford begged. “I -suppose I haven’t any right to ask it, but, after all, it’s my funeral -and not yours. That’s what I told Floyd. He couldn’t rest until he had -warned me, but it did not seem right for me to change my plans in any -way. Jim is my oldest and best friend—my only close friend, in fact—and -I couldn’t bear to cut adrift from him. Besides, I’ve been hoping all -the time that he’d come out from under this cloud; that I’d find -some way of reaching his heart and making it all right again. I have -tried time after time, but always failed. He thinks I’m his enemy, -and attributes to me all the evil suspicions that are bred in his -poor diseased brain. It seems hopeless, unless he can get some help, -but whatever happens I’m going to stick to him. There’s so little the -matter with him, you see, and I know that the man himself is one of the -finest. He would never dream of hurting any one if he were in his right -mind, least of all me.” - -“I have no doubt you are right about that,” the detective agreed, “and -that you’re the only one who is in any danger from him; nevertheless, I -can’t help thinking that your affection, highly commendable as it is, -has caused you to take a very foolish risk. You say yourself that you -haven’t been able to do him any good, and certainly he doesn’t take any -pleasure in your society, to say the least. It was very unwise of you -to have traveled all this distance with him, and to have occupied an -adjoining stateroom. It has simply put temptation in his way. You don’t -want to make him a murderer, do you, aside from the question of your -own safety?” - -“No, no! Heaven knows I don’t!” - -“Then you ought by all means to keep out of his way,” Nick advised -gravely. “You say that this Doctor Floyd extracted a promise from -him that he would do nothing more against you until he had seen this -specialist, but you admit that he has broken that promise not less than -twice during the voyage. Plainly there’s no reliance to be placed in -him, as there never is in the case of any one who is mentally affected -even in the slightest degree.” - -“I know,” admitted Crawford. “Jimmy doesn’t think he has broken his -promise, though. He made a condition that he should do nothing unless -I provoked it or he was obliged to act in self-defense. I’m sure he -thinks he has adhered to that condition. Both times when he has pounced -on me he snarled, ‘You would, would you?’ or something like that, as if -I had made some move to attack him.” - -“That’s just it,” commented the detective. “He’s obviously unbalanced, -and imagines all sorts of things. Under the circumstances, therefore, -you can do him no possible good, and may lose your life at any moment.” - -The miner shook his head. - -“I realize that what you say is all true,” he admitted, “but I’m afraid -I’m a fatalist, Mr. Carter. I simply can’t turn my back on Jimmy. I -feel that I must stick by him for the sake of old times, and, besides, -it seems like cowardice to do anything else. I’ve never been a coward, -and I don’t want to begin now. Anyway, I have engaged rooms for both of -us at the Windermere, connecting rooms. I’d feel like a selfish sneak -if I made any change. I don’t want Jimmy to have my blood on his head, -or the blood of any one, and I hope and pray it won’t come to that; but -the bonds between us are too strong to be broken by me. You see how -it is, Mr. Carter, and that it’s hopeless to argue with me. Are you -willing to let me go my way in this, and to promise me that you’ll not -take any action whatever?” - -The anxiety in his voice indicated how keenly Crawford felt the -situation. On the one hand, the man’s amazing obstinacy made Nick -very impatient, but on the other, he felt a strange admiration for -Crawford’s unfaltering loyalty. He thrust out his hand in the darkness, -and the palms of the two men met. - -“All right, Crawford,” he said, and his voice was deep and vibrating. -“I think you’re making a mistake, but it’s the kind of mistake one -can’t help honoring you for. I look upon you as one of the bravest men -I have ever met, and you may be sure that I will keep your secret.” - -Crawford wrung the outstretched hand. - -“I thank you with all my heart,” he said, “and I—I won’t forget that -you saved my life. Some day I hope to be able to repay you. In any -event, we’ll meet again in New York.” - -But neither he nor Nick dreamed of the curious circumstances that were -to draw them together again in the great city. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - FOLLANSBEE HITS THE NAIL. - - -It was little after eleven o’clock in the morning when a -broad-shouldered man turned into Amsterdam Avenue and began to move -slowly along the pavement, glancing now and then at the houses as he -passed. His tanned face suggested that he was a man from a warmer land, -and the stubborn chin and hard, sour look about the eyes were mute -tokens of the surly temper that ruled the stranger. He was wearing a -soft hat with a wide brim, and he had tilted it forward to shade his -eyes from the sun. Once he took a slip of paper from his pocket and -studied it for a moment. Evidently he was looking for an address. - -Presently he caught sight of what he sought—the big bulk of St. -Swithin’s Hospital, which occupied an entire block. He quickened -his pace and approached the great building. In the reception room, -however, a disappointment awaited him. When he asked for Doctor Stephen -Follansbee, he was told that that distinguished individual had not yet -arrived at the hospital that day. But after some argument he obtained -Follansbee’s private address, which proved to be also on Amsterdam -Avenue and not more than half a dozen blocks away. - -The stranger retraced his steps, therefore, and sought the new number. -He soon found it over the door of a house that was one of a row of -solid but by no means impressive residences. - -A maid admitted him and asked if he had an appointment with the doctor. -When informed that he had not, she invited him into the empty reception -room and told him Doctor Follansbee was busy, but that he would be free -in a few minutes. The visitor seated himself, picked up a magazine, and -began mechanically glancing it over. After ten or fifteen minutes, -the folding doors at the rear of the reception room were opened and a -patient emerged. Over the latter’s shoulder the waiting man caught a -glimpse of a stern, repellent figure in the doorway. - -The caller rose expectantly, but before he had a chance to step forward -or utter a word he was greeted in an unexpected, almost uncanny, -fashion. - -“Come in, Mr. Stone!” were the words which came from the man in the -doorway. - -With a start, James Stone grasped his hat and stepped forward. He could -not imagine by what black art the master of the house knew his name, -and he eyed his host apprehensively as he passed him and entered the -room beyond. - -He was doubtless face to face with the famous Doctor Stephen -Follansbee, but it was hard, indeed, to believe it. The man before him -could not have been more than five feet high. His head was as bare as a -billiard ball and curiously elongated in shape. The vulturelike face, -the almost fringeless eyelids, and the long, thin, hawklike nose held -him mute. - -Into the black, beady eyes there flickered a sudden mirth, and the thin -lips twisted into what was the ghost of a smile. - -“It’s all right, Stone!” the extraordinary individual declared. “You -have come to the right place. You may not think it, but I’m Doctor -Follansbee.” - -Was it possible? The man looked like some sinister bird of prey, and -yet he was at the head of a celebrated hospital and enjoyed the most -enviable reputation as an authority whose fame was countrywide. - -In response to a gesture from Follansbee the visitor dropped into a -chair close beside a small desk that stood by a window. The specialist -crossed the room with quick, birdlike steps and took his seat behind -the desk. In the momentary pause that followed, the two men eyed each -other, but what their thoughts were remained their respective secrets. -At least, Stone could not read the physician’s. - -“You expected to see some one very different, I suppose?” Follansbee -remarked, with a mocking smile. “A big, well-groomed figurehead with an -impressive manner and a carefully trimmed Vandyke beard? Confess, now.” - -Stone relaxed and laughed. It was a short, grating laugh, and the -physician’s eyes dilated slightly as he heard it. - -It was hardly the laugh of a sane person, and as Follansbee leaned -forward he noted that the pupils of Stone’s eyes were fixed and round, -a sign which the initiated always searches for in mental cases. - -“That’s about it,” the visitor admitted, in his harsh voice. “The—the -young man who spoke to me about you told me that you were the head of a -big hospital, and I’ve just been there.” - -Follansbee nodded. - -“I understand,” he said. “I can assure you that your friend was quite -correct, as you’ve doubtless found out for yourself, if you’ve been at -St. Swithin’s. I’ve never been called handsome, but I haven’t found -that a drawback, and I suspect that you didn’t come to see me for my -looks. Did you have a pleasant voyage on the _Cortez_?” - -Stone looked at him in open-mouthed amazement. - -“What do you know about me?” he demanded. “You nearly floored me by -calling me by my name, and now you——” - -“Oh, that isn’t all I know about you,” Follansbee assured him -maliciously. “I can tell you all about the Condor Mine and of your -partner, Winthrop Crawford—or shall we call him your ex-partner? I know -that you and he recently sold the Condor for a million, and that you -have both come back to your old stamping ground after an absence of a -quarter of a century or so. I know several other things, too, but we -won’t speak of them just yet.” - -Stone bit his lip and paled a little under his tan. - -“Well, I’ll be hanged!” he muttered. “I suppose Floyd must have written -to you about me. How in thunder you knew me, though, when I came in, is -more than I can understand.” - -“Who may ‘Floyd’ be?” queried Follansbee, as if he had never heard the -name before. - -His visitor looked at him in bewilderment, but again failed to read -that baffling countenance. - -“Why, he’s the young American doctor down in Brazil who advised me to -come to you,” he explained wonderingly. “He said he had studied under -you in medical school.” - -“Indeed! That’s very interesting,” murmured the specialist. “Hundreds -of young men have studied under me, however. I suppose I might say -thousands. It is gratifying to be remembered by one of them, of -course, but I cannot be expected——” - -“Then how in the world——” - -“Let’s not waste time over things out of our immediate concern,” -Follansbee interrupted. “Please remember that my time is valuable, very -valuable. You seem to be slow in getting to the point. I’ll help you -out. I happen to know the nature of your errand, but am also perfectly -well aware that your heart isn’t in it. Your real desires are of a very -different sort. Isn’t that so?” - -James Stone looked alarmed, as well he might. His conscience was by no -means clear, and the conversation seemed to be getting on decidedly -dangerous ground. - -“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he faltered, moistening -his lips. “Doctor Floyd had a fool notion that I was going crazy, -or something like that. I naturally didn’t take very kindly to the -idea, but I was more or less under obligations to him, and he was so -insistent that I promised to look you up. He said you would help me. Of -course, I don’t think I need any help—of that sort—but I’m a man of my -word, and that’s why I’m here.” - -“Very commendable!” murmured the head of St. Swithin’s. “Doctor Boyd, -or whatever his name is, was quite right. I can help you, in more ways -than one, and I perceive that what you really want is to be rid of your -former partner, Winthrop Crawford. Have I hit the nail on the head?” - -A meaning smile crossed the sinister face, and Follansbee leaned back -in his chair, the glance from his hard little eyes playing over his -caller’s face. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - “NAME YOUR PRICE.” - - -James Stone looked as if the ground had suddenly caved from under his -feet. His big body stiffened, his hands clutched his hat, and his -startled eyes were riveted on Follansbee’s countenance. He moistened -his dry lips again and attempted to speak, but it ended only in a -swallow, as evidenced by the movement in his throat. - -The great specialist seemed to enjoy the sensation he had made. - -“You know, Mr. Stone,” he went on, “that we doctors have a way, -sometimes, of locating a patient’s trouble by feeling him over until -we find a tender spot. When he winces, we know we’ve struck it, and -we draw our own conclusions. It’s obvious that I’ve found your tender -spot; therefore, there isn’t any use in your beating about the bush. -I know that you desire to eliminate Crawford. I might use a stronger -expression, but I’ll spare your feelings to that extent. Out with it, -now, man! You have a lot of poison bottled up in your system. Let -it come out. If there’s anything wrong with you mentally, as your -friend in Brazil seems to have thought, I’ll find it out and make due -allowances. On the other hand, if you’re sane, you need be no more -afraid of confiding in me. I’m not a policeman, you know—or a judge. -Remember, too, that I have said I could help you.” - -It was not so much his words, but the manner in which he uttered them -that gave James Stone a certain confidence. - -Follansbee was as far removed as possible from the type of the kindly, -tolerant, helpful physician. On the contrary, everything said, -every glance he cast—the whole man, in fact—would have been highly -distasteful to the average person. It was that very thing, however, -that tended to draw Stone out and to make him reveal the murderous -impulses which controlled him. - -It seemed incredible, but he had a feeling that he had nothing to fear -from the famous Doctor Follansbee; in fact, that the latter was a -possible ally. And in support of that startling belief, certain words -of young Floyd’s came to him. - -Floyd had said that Follansbee was very eccentric, had ways of doing -things that were all his own, and was in the habit of seeming to -sympathize with those who came to him, no matter what they might say or -do. - -The young physician had evidently been a firm believer in the man who -had once been his professor, but Stone found himself wondering if -Follansbee was what he had seemed to Floyd. He doubted it, and decided -he had found a kindred spirit. Follansbee’s mask seemed to be slipping -off. - -Emboldened by this, the miner dropped his great hands on his knees and -leaned forward, flinging a quick glance about him as he did so. - -“Are you sure we’ll not be heard here?” he asked, cunning returning to -his eyes. - -“Perfectly,” was the answer. “My servants are well trained, and these -walls are much thicker than those they put into the houses they build -nowadays. You can talk openly and freely, Stone, and your secrets will -be guarded.” - -Stone nodded, and the glitter in his eyes became more pronounced. - -“You are right, Doctor Follansbee,” he said. “I can’t figure out how -you know, but I want to get rid of Win Crawford. I—I want to get rid of -him before he gets rid of me.” - -His heavy face was wrinkled into a mask of cunning—the foolish, vacant -cunning of the insane. - -“He thinks he’s clever,” Stone went on; “thinks I don’t know what he’s -going to do. But I’m as cute as he is, and I’ve tumbled to him.” - -Follansbee had folded his long, flexible fingers and was leaning his -shoulders on the arms of his chair. His evil-looking eyes were slowly -taking on a mocking twinkle as they looked at the features of the man -in front of him. - -The skilled specialist had no further doubt about the matter. At that -moment he knew to a certainty that James Stone was mad, and that his -was the most dangerous form of insanity, for it centered only on one -object. - -Outwardly and in his everyday life, Stone might move and conduct -himself as an ordinary individual, but lurking always in his diseased -brain was one wild and terrible fancy—an insane fear and hatred of the -man who in the brighter, if less prosperous, past he had once risked -his life to save. - -It remained to be seen, however, in what Follansbee’s treatment of the -case would consist. - -“So you think that your partner is going to kill you, do you?” the -specialist asked. - -“I don’t think—I know!” the husky voice returned. “All this is only a -game of his. He has brought me to New York because he was afraid to do -it in Brazil. I have too many friends there, but he’ll find I’m too -much for him. Ha, ha! He’ll find out!” - -The laugh was so ugly and hollow, and the man so obviously getting -more and more excited that Follansbee decided to stave off a further -outburst. - -“That’s all right,” he said soothingly. “I’m sure you will be able to -look after yourself.” - -“I’m going to do more than that,” Stone announced malignantly. “I’m -going to kill him before he has a chance to kill me.” - -It was clear that he had thrown off all fear of Follansbee, either -under the influence of his own misguided desires or his belief that the -head of St. Swithin’s was not what he seemed to the world. - -With a quick movement he rose to his feet, and, leaning over the -desk, looked down into the physician’s eyes with a face that worked -convulsively. - -“And you’ve got to help me!” he added. “I’ve tried three times to do -it, twice on board the _Cortez_, but luck was against me every time.” - -“Three times!” Follansbee repeated, in astonishment. “Then Crawford -knows what you’re up to?” - -“Yes, he knows,” Stone answered, “but that doesn’t make any difference. -He’s a fool, and he thinks he’s got to stick by me to wait his own -chance. He and I are staying at the same hotel in connecting rooms. We -breakfasted at the same table this morning, and I had hard work to get -away from him.” - -“That’s queer,” the specialist remarked thoughtfully. “He must be a -fool!” - -His surprise was genuine. He was not capable of fathoming the true -cause of Crawford’s devotion to his old comrade—could not understand -that Stone’s partner had forgiven and deliberately left his life in -jeopardy for the sake of other days. - -And in James Stone’s distorted brain there was no more idea of the -truth. He stabbed at the desk with one thick finger. - -“That’s his cursed cunning, I tell you!” he declared. “He’s waiting -until he gets good and ready to strike. By Heaven, I can’t sleep at -night, sometimes, for thinking of it! That’s why he doesn’t leave me, -even though I’ve tried three times to kill him. He’s just waiting his -chance, waiting his chance.” - -The hoarse voice was lifted until it broke. - -“But his chance isn’t going to come!” the demented man insisted. “He -won’t live to get it! You’ve got to help me, I tell you. Floyd sent -me to you because he caught me trying to shoot Crawford out there, -and thought I was crazy. You know better, though, and I know something -about you. Floyd thinks you’re only a great doctor, but he’s a kid, -and he doesn’t know the world as I do. I ain’t crazy, Doctor Stephen -Follansbee; I ain’t a fool. Maybe New York thinks you’re a saint, -for all I know—though I don’t see how it can when it looks at that -face of yours! But I know you’re not. You may be the king-pin of your -profession, but you’re a crook as well—as big a rascal as ever walked -the earth! I know something about men, and you can’t fool me. - -“Now, let’s get down to business,” he continued. “Charlie Floyd sent me -here for one kind of help, but you’ve opened the way for another—and -that’s the kind I want. I ain’t very good at this sort of thing, I’ll -admit. I’ve failed three times, but if you take it on, I guess you’ll -get your man at the first crack. If you can’t I’ve got you wrong. I’m -willing to pay well, but I don’t want any backing and filling about it. -So name your price and let’s get busy, Doctor Stephen Follansbee, for -time is on the wing.” - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - - A “FAIR” OFFER. - - -“Sit down and cool off,” Doctor Follansbee advised; and under his -compelling gaze his visitor subsided and sank into a chair. - -The head of St. Swithin’s Hospital studied Stone for some moments -without showing the slightest sign of emotion as a result of the -astounding proposition which had just been made to him. His long, -capable, surgeon’s fingers tapped against one another, and his cold, -dark eyes seemed to have no more feeling in them than a couple of -highly polished stones. - -“You take a great deal for granted, Mr. James Stone,” he remarked at -last, in his thin, squeaking tones. “I might have you confined in an -asylum for that, you know—or turned over to the police.” - -“You might, but you won’t,” his caller said, with a half growl. “I’ve -taken your measure, Follansbee, and if your time is as valuable as you -say, you’ll stop wasting it. I asked your price, and I’m prepared to -pay anything in reason to have this business taken off my hands.” - -The faint semblance of a smile twisted Follansbee’s thin lips. - -“Rough and ready,” he murmured. “A South American edition of the old -‘wild and woolly’ Westerner. He wants what he wants when he wants it, -and he isn’t bashful about asking for it.” - -He paused for a moment and then went on: - -“Well, my genial friend, I won’t abuse your confidence. Professional -ethics forbid. As for your opinion of me, I care nothing for that. -Perhaps I look upon it as only another evidence of mental disease.” - -“Will you help me or won’t you?” Stone broke in. - -“Most assuredly I will,” was the quiet answer. “I’ll help you in my own -way, and if I’m to do so, you must put yourself wholly in my hands. -Will you promise?” - -Stone’s heart sank, and he looked askance at Follansbee for a few -moments. The latter’s words sounded a little too professional to suit -him. His belief that the physician was a rascal was rooted deep, -however, and overshadowed everything else. - -“I’ll agree to almost anything if you’ll do what I want done,” he said. - -“I’ll do what needs to be done,” was the evasive answer. “You asked -my terms, though, and I must warn you that they’re high. Some of the -richest men in the world come to me, and I have no time to waste with -those who cannot afford to pay my price. You can, if you’re willing to -do so.” - -“How much?” Stone asked, in a more subdued tone. - -Follansbee’s preamble sounded formidable. - -“I don’t expect to get you for nothing,” the miner went on. “You must -know of a thousand ways of—of getting rid of people—ways by which no -one would be any the wiser. I’m willing to pay for that knowledge, but -I’m not a millionaire, you know.” - -“I’m aware of that,” piped Follansbee, “and shall take the fact into -account. That being so, my fee will be only forty-five thousand -dollars!” - -James Stone started at the mention of this enormous sum. - -“That is the best I can do,” Doctor Follansbee went on, in his cold -tones. “Remember that if I assist you to get rid of your partner, I -also assist you to add his share of the proceeds from the sale of the -Condor to your own.” The hawklike face was very hard now, and the beady -eyes glowed sternly. “You will receive at least four hundred and fifty -thousand dollars after the death of Winthrop Crawford,” he continued. -“I’m only asking ten per cent of that amount.” - -His tone was calm and calculating. Stone saw the point which Follansbee -had made, but he could not penetrate the latter’s armor. - -Follansbee had not said in so many words that he would help him to get -rid of his partner. He had promised to help “in his own way.” To be -sure, this calculation, based on Crawford’s death, seemed to commit -him, but Stone found himself wondering if he were only being played -with. Had the doctor merely mentioned that in order to draw him on -and get his own price? Of what was the promise of help to consist? He -voiced his doubts, but his words were met in the same sphinxlike way. - -“I’m afraid I can’t enlighten you as to that,” Follansbee told him. “It -isn’t proper for a physician to make definite promises, and it’s very -unprofessional to outline methods. I have agreed to take your case for -forty-five thousand dollars, and I promise to give it my best attention -and the benefit of my long knowledge. That is all anybody but a quack -can say. You’ll have to take it or leave it. If you’re so thoroughly -persuaded that I’m a scoundrel, you oughtn’t to hesitate.” - -His smile was a maddening enigma. - -Under the influence of this skillful handling, the tanned face widened -into a smile, and Stone nodded his head. “All right,” he said. “I -forgot about the money. Crawford has made his will in my favor, and if -he dies without involving me I’ll get his share, of course.” - -“That’s my understanding of the situation,” Follansbee agreed. - -“That’s right—that’s right! How you got on to it, though, Heaven only -knows!” - -“Then you’re willing to pay me the fee I demand?” - -“I suppose it’s worth it. Yes, I’ll pay it.” - -“A wise decision,” murmured Follansbee. - -He reached out a lean hand and swung a pad of blotting paper round, -then placed a pen and inkwell beside it. - -“Now I want you to sit down here and write me out a check for -forty-five thousand dollars. To-day is the seventeenth, and I want you -to date your check the twenty-seventh. That gives me ten days, and if -at the end of that time Winthrop Crawford is still troubling you, all -you have to do is to go to your bank and stop payment on your check. Is -that fair?” - - - - - CHAPTER X. - - THE RAISED CHECK. - - -“I couldn’t ask anything more than that,” Stone admitted. - -He felt sure now that Follansbee would do all he wished, despite the -fact that he had been able to pin him down. He assumed that that was -merely the doctor’s caution and cleverness, and the offer to allow him -to date the check ahead came with an unexpected sense of relief. - -To be sure, Follansbee had put it with his customary vagueness. He had -not said, “if at the end of that time, Crawford is still alive,” but -only “if he’s still troubling you.” - -That might mean any one of a number of things, but, as was his way, -Stone interpreted it as best suited him. He drew a check book from his -pocket, and, pulling a chair forward, seated himself at the desk. His -head was bent, and he could not see Follansbee’s face. Had he been able -to do so, he might have been struck by the curious look that was now in -the little eyes. - -When Stone had filled in the check, all except the signature, he found -that the ink on the point had given out, and he stretched out his hand -to dip the pen into the inkwell again. At the same moment Follansbee -also reached out, apparently to push the well nearer to his visitor. -Between them, in some manner the well was upset, and a small quantity -of the black fluid it contained made a round patch on the top of the -desk. - -“Never mind!” Follansbee hastened to say, in answer to Stone’s -regretful exclamation. “It doesn’t matter. Let it be. You can finish -with this.” As he spoke, he took another ink bottle from the back of -the desk, removed the cork, and placed it within easy reach. - -Stone mechanically dipped the pen into the new receptacle and scrawled -his signature at the bottom of the check, after which he handed the -slip of paper to Follansbee. - -“Thanks!” the specialist said carelessly, turning the check over and -blotting it on the pad. “Now give me the name of your hotel and the -number of your room.” - -“The Hotel Windermere, room number twenty-two,” was the reply. - -Follansbee jotted it down on the back of a card, and then looked at his -watch. - -“I must be going now,” he said. “I’m overdue at the hospital. I will be -engaged there until six o’clock, but I’ll phone you as soon after that -as possible.” - -Stone picked up his hat and peered at the inscrutable face for a -moment, as if in a last attempt to read the thoughts behind it. - -“You’re sure you can do it?” he asked hoarsely. - -“Nothing is absolutely sure in this world, even the performance of a -specialist,” was the cool reply. “However”—and he tapped the check, the -blank side of which was turned uppermost, with one forefinger—“there is -my fee; and you may rest assured that I shall do my best to earn it.” - -Half insane though he was, James Stone was greatly impressed. -Follansbee had not showed his hand once during the interview. At best -he had only given a momentary glimpse at his cards, but there was a -hint of strength, of unusual power of one kind or another behind that -hard mask. - -“Very well, doctor,” the miner returned. “I shall expect to hear from -you this evening.” - -He strode across the room, Follansbee following him with his short, -noiseless steps. When the double doors were reached and opened, the -doctor put out his hand and Stone felt a cold, dry palm thrust into his -own moist, hot one. - -“Until this evening,” Follansbee said, with a bow that was almost -courtly, despite its mocking character. - -Stone passed through the reception room, and the little man closed the -double doors of the office behind him. - -Bending forward, Follansbee tilted his head at an angle like that of -a listening bird. He remained in that position until the noise of the -closing door told him that the miner had left the house; then, turning, -he darted across the room toward his desk and seized upon the check. -A low, disagreeable laugh broke from his lips as his eyes alighted -on the face of it, for date, number, payee’s name, and amount had -all disappeared, and the only words that remained were the two which -constituted the signature—“James Stone.” - -The doctor’s eyes turned to the desk where the “ink” which had been -used had been spilled, but the mysterious volatile liquid had already -disappeared from the surface, and only a little grayish powder remained. - -That, too, quickly vanished, as Follansbee blew it away. - -Then, dropping into a chair in front of the desk, and in a strong, -bold hand—in stern contrast to his size and quick, nervous movement—he -filled in the rest of the check once more. He made it out, of course, -to himself, as before, and reproduced the vanished number from memory. -That was an easy matter, since he had been looking over Stone’s -shoulder; but this time the date put down was the twenty-fifth instead -of the twenty-seventh, and the amount was not forty-five thousand -dollars, but—four hundred and fifty thousand! - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - A DISTINGUISHED SCOUNDREL. - - -“Yes, my friend, I intend to earn my fee,” the cold voice declared to -the empty room. “The only difference is that the fee is somewhat larger -than I’ve given you reason to believe.” - -Leaning back in his chair, Doctor Stephen Follansbee blotted the check, -then, taking a bunch of keys from his pocket, he unlocked the top -drawer of the desk and slipped the check into a small leather-bound -book which lay inside. - -“Just to make sure that I receive my just dues,” he went on, “I’ll turn -this check in on Saturday instead of Monday. You’re mad enough on one -point, James Stone, but you’re a shrewd man outside of that, and it -might occur to you to stop payment on that check.” His short, cackling -laugh rang out anew. - -Half an hour later he left his house. He did not seem to be in as much -of a hurry as he had said, as he made his way leisurely, and on foot, -to his destination. - -He made a striking figure as he proceeded. His face alone would have -attracted attention anywhere, but his dress was eccentric in its -shabbiness. His arms were folded behind his back in a very unusual, but -thoroughly characteristic way, and his little, lashless eyes were bent -on the ground. Many passers-by stopped to stare at him as he passed, -and not a few recognized him. - -“He’s the great Doctor Follansbee, the head of St. Swithin’s Hospital!” -they told one another. “You’d never think it to look at him, would you? -He looks more like a mummy than anything else.” - -Careless of these comments and of the mild sensation his appearance -always created, Follansbee soon reached the hospital, passed through -the imposing entrance, and went on down the broad corridor to his -private room. As soon as he had seated himself at his desk and glanced -hastily through the few reports and other documents which lay there, he -pressed one of several buzzer buttons on a small switchboard attached -to his desk. - -In response to the summons, the resident physician in charge quickly -entered. Follansbee spent half an hour listening to the reports of the -various cases and to matters of hospital routine. That done, he issued -a few instructions in his sharp voice, and the physician left the room. - -Other heads of departments followed, and for two hours Follansbee was -constantly engaged. At the end of that time, though, he rose to his -feet and passed through into an adjoining room which was fitted up as a -private laboratory and workshop. - -Crossing to one side of the room along which rows of shelves had -been placed, he opened a small, glass-doored cupboard, and, leaning -forward, took a small case of test tubes from one of the shelves, which -contained serum of various types. Going back to his desk, the doctor -seated himself and began to work. Evidently he was thinking something -out with the aid of pencil and paper. He had a pad in front of him, -and on it he scrawled a few lines of straggling writing. Then, after a -prolonged pause, he jotted down a few more words. - -“Yes,” he said to himself presently, “I think that will be the best -way. There’s no reason why Crawford could not have been exposed to -disease before his arrival. He has just landed in New York, and if I -succeed in getting at him within the next day or so, there will be no -reason for any one to suspect.” - -He leaned back in his chair. - -“I’m sorry, though, that that mad fool attacked him,” he went on -musingly, “for, despite what Stone says, I feel sure that Crawford must -be on his guard now.” - -That was the point in the case which baffled Follansbee for the moment. -He could not understand why Crawford, after no less than three attempts -had been made on his life, should still be willing to occupy a room -which connected directly with that of his would-be murderer. At last, -with a shrug of his shoulders, he dismissed the subject. - -“After all, it doesn’t matter very much,” he mumbled to himself. “The -attempts which Stone has made are only known to four or five persons at -most. They are the two most concerned, young Floyd, and the stranger -who, according to Stone’s admission, separated him and Crawford on the -boat. His knowledge and that of Floyd would be dangerous if Crawford -were to be put out of the way in any ordinary fashion, but neither -would be suspicious if he succumbed to a tropical disease. It would -never occur to them to question his death under such circumstances, and -even if it did, they wouldn’t give Stone credit for so much ingenuity. -As for me, I’m above suspicion, except in the eyes of a very few -persons—notably Nick Carter’s. I shouldn’t like him to get wind of -this, but there’s little or no likelihood of his doing so.” - -James Stone had not known of the detective’s identity, because the -latter’s name had not appeared on the passenger list of the _Cortez_, -and, strictly speaking, it had been a breach of confidence on the part -of the chief steward when the latter had revealed Carter’s name to -Crawford. Had Follansbee known more of the mysterious stranger whose -intervention had been so unfortunate from Stone’s standpoint, even his -cold, hard calm would have been broken up, and he would have cut off -his right hand rather than have anything to do with the affair. So far -as his knowledge went, however, it seemed sufficiently safe to venture -on what he had in view. - -“Anyhow, I run no risk,” he concluded. “Both Stone and Crawford seem to -have no friends in the city, and if there should be a coroner’s inquest -the death would be put down as resulting from natural causes.” - -He ran his fingers over the test tubes with a touch that was almost -caressing, and on his sallow, leathery face there rested a malevolent -smile. - -“My first step in the career of crime,” he resumed, “was not very -successful, I’ll have to admit. It involved considerable risk, and I -was infernally lucky to have crawled out of it as well as I did. I was -a fool then, though, and I won’t take any such risks in future. I’ll be -the ‘man behind’ this time. Stone will execute the work, and when it’s -duly accomplished, the reward will be mine, and I think I can worry -along for some time on that amount.” - -Floyd, in his misguided effort to be thorough, had sent a number of -details which might well have been omitted. They had enabled Follansbee -to make a great show of knowledge, and by his evasions in respect to -the source of it had greatly contributed to Stone’s bewilderment. They -had also made it possible for the unscrupulous head of St. Swithin’s to -fill in the check for the amount that was only fifty thousand dollars -short of the entire sum which Stone was supposed to have realized from -the sale of the Condor Mine. He would have liked to claim even more, -but he did not dare, for fear of overdrawing the miner’s account and -thereby creating a difficulty when the time came for the bank to honor -the check. Therefore he had shrewdly fixed his “fee” at that sum, in -order to allow for any reasonable withdrawals on Stone’s part. - -In that and other ways Floyd’s letter had been of the greatest -assistance, and had served a purpose the nature of which its writer -had never dreamed. It would have seemed incredible to the young -physician, whose profession was sacred to him, and in whose eyes -Stephen Follansbee was everything that was desirable—except in external -appearances. - -Well he might. Few would have been willing to believe for a moment that -the famous specialist could be guilty of such juggling with checks, and -much less that he would consent to engage in a criminal conspiracy, the -end of which was scientific murder, with any man—least of all one he -knew to be mentally diseased. Yet, such was the fact. - -Now and then a physician—sometimes a really great one—goes wrong and -plays false to the tremendous responsibility which he has assumed. -Stephen Follansbee was one of the most conspicuous examples of this. -He had started out with the highest motives, and worked his way up by -hard work and sheer weight of ability. He had always been supremely -selfish, however, and had possessed little or no heart. He had won -fame in spite of his repellent appearance and his cold, unsympathetic -nature. But that fame, and the reward which followed it, had not been -enough for him. There was an evil streak in him, and it had become -more pronounced as the years passed. - -He had begun by using his position to cover up indefensible experiments -on patients, especially those who were poor and obscure. Emboldened -by his freedom from penalty, he had gone on and indulged in more -daring and ruthless work. Most of it had been in the name of medical -knowledge, to be sure, and had had the sanction of not a few fellow -practitioners, but it was none the less criminal. - -At length, a year or so before, he had dared to try a particularly -heartless experiment on a famous author, but while it was still in one -of its early stages, Nick Carter had learned of it—it doesn’t matter -how—and had effectually interfered. Incidentally, the detective had -prevented Follansbee from collecting fifty thousand dollars for his -services, as he called them. - -It had not been an indictable offense, and so Follansbee went -unpunished. Carter had been obliged to content himself with a scathing -denunciation, and a warning to keep straight in the future. To the best -of the detective’s knowledge, Follansbee had done so. This chance, -however, had been too much for the distinguished scoundrel. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - - THE DEADLY TUBE. - - -While unconsciously playing into Follansbee’s hands, Floyd had opened -the way for a diabolical crime. - -The head of St. Swithin’s had adroitly pulled the wool over James -Stone’s eyes, and kept the half-crazed miner from knowing just what to -expect; but nevertheless the specialist’s mind had been made up from -the beginning. He had planned it all out after receiving the letter. - -As for his recognition of the miner, which had so startled his visitor, -it had been a very simple matter, and quite within the capacity of one -much less shrewd than Stephen Follansbee. Floyd had announced that -Stone and Crawford had taken passage on the _Cortez_. Follansbee had -taken pains to learn when the vessel had docked, and when, later, the -big, bronzed man had presented himself, the caller’s name had, to the -doctor, been as good as written over his face. - -That Stone was undoubtedly a victim of some mental derangement did not -matter to Follansbee in the least. Almost any other physician would -have been affected by the man’s plight, and would have thought of -nothing but the best way to cure him. Not so Follansbee, however. His -apology for a heart had been hard in the beginning, and it had grown -steadily harder as a result of his ostensibly scientific, but really -devilish, experiments on unfortunate sufferers. - -Had there been a spark of honor in him, he would have done all in his -power to keep the irresponsible Stone from crime, and, if possible, to -banish his ailment; but instead he determined to use the demented man -for his own ends to help him to murder, and finally to strip him of his -fortune. - -His conscience had not given him a single twinge, for the very good -reason that he had none. In fact, the prospective divisions of wealth -seemed to him eminently right and proper. He might be taking away -Stone’s fortune, but he would be giving him Crawford’s in place of it. -In other words, he reasoned that Stone would be getting the job done -for practically nothing, and the four hundred and fifty thousand, while -generous pay, was not a cent too much according to Follansbee’s view of -it. He knew as well as any one could have known that, though he might -try to shift the responsibility as much as he pleased, it lay with him, -after all, and he wanted pay for it. - -Moreover, he coveted wealth, more wealth than he had been able to amass -through the many handsome fees that were pouring in all the time from -the rich and great who were numbered among his patients. He wished -to build a hospital of his own, of which he should be even more the -master than was possible at St. Swithin’s. He longed for expensive -laboratories built and equipped along new lines, not for the good of -humanity, but to further his own peculiar ambitions. Stone’s money, -with what he already possessed, would go far toward realizing these -ambitions, and he was willing to take almost any risk to further his -conscienceless aims. - -The hours passed away swiftly, and at about seven o’clock in the -evening Follansbee, returning from a round of the wards, entered -his private office and went to the telephone. He rang up the Hotel -Windermere and asked for Stone. The clerk informed him that Mr. Stone -was not in the hotel at that time, but might return at any moment. “If -you care to leave a message, it will be delivered to him as soon as he -arrives,” the man went on. - -“Very well,” Follansbee returned, after a pause. “Tell him that the -gentleman whom he visited on Amsterdam Avenue this morning will be at -the hotel about half past seven, and will wait for him in the lobby.” - -The clerk took down the message and repeated it, after which Follansbee -replaced the receiver and prepared to leave the hospital. By means of -an intercommunicating phone, he called up St. Swithin’s garage and had -his car, which he kept there, brought round to the entrance. As he -crossed the pavement to enter it, he lifted one long, lean hand and -pressed a smooth, round object in his breast pocket. - -Little did the passers-by dream that, concealed in the clothing of that -sinister, shabbily dressed, but nevertheless distinguished figure, was -a tube containing deadly bacilli in a quantity sufficient to spread -death for miles around—even, if unchecked, to sweep throughout the -entire country. - -Thus, like the shadow of death itself, the vulturelike form of Stephen -Follansbee slipped into the big limousine, and was winged away to the -Hotel Windermere. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - - CHICK SIGHTS THE “BUZZARD.” - - -“Who is it, please?” - -Chick Carter, with his ear to the receiver, waited for the reply. - -“This is Winthrop Crawford. I wish to speak to Mr. Nick Carter, if I -may.” - -It was about two o’clock in the afternoon of the same day that had -witnessed the meeting of Stone and Doctor Follansbee. - -Unfortunately, Nick had just left the house, but his assistant had -heard about Crawford. - -“The chief isn’t in just now, Mr. Crawford,” he said, “but I don’t -think he’ll be gone very long. Is there anything I can do for you? I’m -his assistant.” - -“Are you the man who was with him on board the _Cortez_?” - -“Yes.” - -“Perhaps you’ll do as well, then. Are you busy just now?” - -“No.” - -“Could you come down to the Hotel Windermere? I don’t suppose it’s very -much, but I’d like to talk with one of you. I could come to your house, -though, if you prefer.” - -There was no reason why Chick should not accept the invitation. - -“No,” he said. “I’ll come down. I’m afraid I can’t reach the hotel -before three, though.” - -“Oh, that’s all right; there’s no particular hurry.” - -The detective replaced the receiver, saw to a few matters which -demanded his attention, and then, after some twenty-five or thirty -minutes, scribbled a brief message to his chief, and left it on the -latter’s desk—the usual information, telling where he had gone, and why. - -Chick had never accustomed himself to riding in motor cars when it -was unnecessary; therefore, he set out briskly for the nearest subway -station. - -“The chief seems very interested in Crawford,” he thought, as he walked -along. “We might as well get in touch with him as soon as we can.” - -He reached the Windermere a little after three, and found Crawford -waiting for him in the lobby. - -The bearded man seemed to be troubled about something, but his face -brightened when Chick appeared. He led the way to one of the rooms -which opened off the lobby. It proved to be deserted. - -“It’s nothing very important,” Crawford explained, when they had seated -themselves in a quiet, remote corner, “but I’m just a little troubled -about my partner, Stone. He left the hotel immediately after breakfast -this morning, and wouldn’t tell me where he was going. He said he would -be back in time for lunch, but he hasn’t turned up yet.” He glanced -at Chick for a moment. “Of course. I’m not going to worry much about -that,” he went on, “but in case he doesn’t appear by dinner time, -I just wanted to know what to do. This New York of yours is a very -bewildering place to a man who hasn’t been in it for twenty-five or -thirty years, and I would be at a loss to know how to proceed.” - -“Oh, that’s easy enough,” Chick said quietly. “If he doesn’t show up by -night, and you don’t get a message, the best thing to do would be to -ring up police headquarters and give a description of him. If anything -had happened, they would be in a position to let you know sooner than -any one else. They have the whole thing at their finger’s ends down -there, and handle ordinary cases with routine dispatch. You mustn’t -have any anxiety about Mr. Stone, though. He’s surely able to take care -of himself. He may have fallen in with some old friends, or made a new -one.” - -“It does sound foolish, and I suppose you’re right,” Crawford admitted. -“This place has got me scared, though. I have been used to solitude for -a good many years, and the only crowds I’ve known have been those about -the bars in mining camps. There must be a frightful number of accidents -here every day.” - -He turned slightly in his chair and looked out through a near-by window -into the traffic-filled street. - -“You’re free to laugh at me,” he went on, “but I’m almost afraid to -venture out alone. It looks to me as if a man has to take his life in -his hands every time he crosses the street in this pandemonium.” He -paused again and smiled appealingly. “If you’ve got an hour or so to -spare, would it be too much to ask you to pilot me around a bit?” he -inquired. “I’d appreciate it, I assure you.” - -The deep, friendly voice had a certain charm in it which the detective -found it impossible to resist. - -“Of course I’ll come gladly,” he said. - -He and Crawford left the hotel and strolled along the crowded -pavements. The grizzled miner seemed to find a keen delight in halting -to examine almost every window they passed. - -“Spending years in the open makes a man fairly hungry for this sort of -thing. I’ve longed to be back home again just to look into these very -shop windows.” - -His enthusiasm was infectious, and he and Chick walked along, laughing -and chatting together. They dropped in at the public library, and -Crawford could hardly tear himself away. - -When they reached the street again and started back toward Broadway, -Chick happened to glance at a jeweler’s clock. - -“Half past five!” he ejaculated. “By George! I had no idea it was as -late as that.” - -“Late be hanged!” Crawford answered, with a laugh. “The game is young -yet. Let’s have a look in at one of those continuous performances I’ve -heard so much about—that is, unless you have to get back.” - -The detective had nothing pressing in view, and he was thoroughly -enjoying Crawford’s comments on what they saw. He, therefore, expressed -his willingness to do whatever his companion wished, and conducted the -latter to a combination moving-picture and vaudeville house, where -they spent a little over an hour. - -It was after seven when they returned to the hotel. - -“I’ll just go and see if Stone has come back,” Crawford said anxiously. -“I won’t be long.” - -Chick nodded assent and seated himself in one corner of the lobby, -while the miner made for the elevator. - -Nick Carter’s assistant had bought an evening paper and stuffed it into -his pocket. He now took it out and began glancing over it. - -Presently, as he lowered the paper to turn the page, his eyes chanced -to look into a mirror set into the wall beside him. The mirror was -so placed that it reflected the wide entrance of the hotel, and just -at that moment Chick saw a lean, curious figure approach from the -street. He gave a slight start, and stared for a moment at the familiar -reflection, then instinctively raised the paper again so that it hid -his face. - -He never forgot features, and that one brief glance had been enough for -him. As a matter of fact, however, there was little chance of any one -forgetting Doctor Stephen Follansbee after even the most casual meeting. - -“The ‘Buzzard’!” he muttered to himself, using the name he had applied -to the famous specialist. “I wonder what the dickens he’s doing here.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - - NICK’S ASSISTANT DECAMPS. - - -Chick knew all about Doctor Follansbee’s tendencies, and had assisted -his chief in an attempt to scrape up sufficient evidence against the -man to warrant some definite action. - -They had failed to build up a case that would amount to anything -if brought to trial. To be sure, they could have brought charges -against the head of St. Swithin’s, and placed him before the medical -association, but there was more than one reason for refraining from -that. For one thing, Carter hesitated to stir up a scandal which -would be bound to follow the publication of such charges. Owing to -Follansbee’s great prominence, and the very responsible character of -his position as head of a big hospital, the accusation would tend to -discredit the whole profession more or less, and to shake the public’s -faith in such institutions. - -Finally, the detective had always been a firm believer in the right of -a man to have a second chance, especially when he had much to lose. -Follansbee had had his warning, and nothing had happened since to give -the detective and his assistants any particular reason for believing -that he had failed to profit by it. They were by no means sure that he -had, however, and had continued to look out for further trouble in that -direction; consequently, Chick was more than commonly interested in -this chance glimpse of Follansbee. - -As for his action in hiding himself behind the newspaper, that was -merely a mechanical sort of routine precaution. There was always -a certain possibility that Follansbee might be up to something -questionable, and if he were in this instance the detective did not -wish to be recognized. That would scare the game away, and his hunter’s -instinct shrank from the possibility of such a catastrophe. - -Half a minute later he had cause to congratulate himself on his -presence of mind. - -He was not more than twenty feet from the clerk’s desk, which -Follansbee had approached. - -“Is Mr. James Stone in?” - -The question was put in the doctor’s thin, piping voice, which hardly -carried to Chick, and wrenched a little gasp of amazement from him. - -“Stone!” he thought. “That can’t be anybody but Crawford’s partner. The -Buzzard is asking for Stone. What does it mean?” - -He strained his ears to catch the reply, but the clerk’s voice was low -and indistinct. A moment later, however, Follansbee remarked audibly: -“All right, I’ll wait for him here in this first sitting room for a few -minutes.” - -Manipulating his paper cautiously, so that Follansbee could not see his -entire face, even in the glass, Chick glanced at the latter with one -eye. He was just in time to see the doctor move off and pass into one -of the rooms which opened off from the lobby, the one nearest to the -clerk’s desk. - -Chick felt instinctively that the discovery he had made was of -considerable importance. He had come to look upon Follansbee with -suspicion, and he was aware of Stone’s attempts upon Crawford’s life. -To be sure, he also knew that Stone had been advised to consult -a specialist in New York. It might well be, of course, that the -specialist in question was Stephen Follansbee, and that the miner -had gone to him in good faith. The connection between them, however, -whatever it was, seemed to deserve a little more attention. At any -rate, he felt that he ought to inform his chief at once of the fact -that Follansbee had been inquiring for James Stone. - -“I’ll have to clear out of this,” he thought, “and I mustn’t let the -Buzzard see me, either. If Crawford should come down and speak to me, -Follansbee might be put on his guard—supposing there’s anything fishy -about his call on Stone. It’s up to me to make tracks before Crawford -comes back.” - -He rose to his feet, and as he did so the elevator bell gave a subdued -buzz. The man in charge closed the gate, and the elevator shot upward. -Chick felt morally certain that it was Crawford who had rung the bell, -and was waiting to descend. Another might have laughed at him for the -thought, when the big hotel was well filled with guests, but Chick put -enough faith in it to cause his heart to give a startled bound. Without -a look toward the elevator, he strode along the lobby in the direction -of the door, and hurried out. He had barely disappeared when the car -sank to the level of the ground floor, and Winthrop Crawford emerged. - -The miner looked expectantly toward the corner where he had left Nick -Carter’s assistant, and stopped short when he found it vacant. His -bewildered gaze traveled over the whole room, and then he approached a -bell boy who was standing in a near-by doorway. - -“Do you happen to know what’s become of the young man I left in that -corner less than five minutes ago?” he asked, pointing to the chair -Chick had occupied. - -“He’s just gone out, sir,” was the reply. “He hurried past me just -before you came down, and shot out of the door as if he had been sent -for.” - -“Did any one speak to him?” - -“No, sir, not that I know. Maybe he just thought of something he had to -do.” - -“That’s queer!” Crawford muttered. “I don’t understand it.” - -Then he suddenly made up his mind. “See if you can catch him,” he said -to the boy. “Hurry! There’s a dollar in it if you do.” - -The bell boy broke into a run, and Crawford hastily followed. When -he reached the street he saw the uniformed boy in full flight after -a slender, well-dressed man who was walking swiftly down the street -to the left. It looked like Chick, but in order to make no mistake, -Crawford halted where he was and looked to the right, then crossed the -street. He saw no one else whose appearance tempted him to follow; -consequently, he strode in the wake of the boy. The latter soon caught -up with his man and spoke to him. Crawford saw the pedestrian halt and -turn about. - -“Confound it!” the miner ejaculated under his breath, when he caught -sight of the man’s face. “That isn’t my man. That fool boy has gone off -on a wild-goose chase!” - -He remained where he was and waited for the return of the bell boy, who -came back sheepishly. - -“It was the wrong man, sir,” the boy explained. - -“So I saw,” was the answer. “Well, here’s something for your trouble, -anyway. I can’t imagine how my friend got away so quickly.” - -“Thank you, sir!” said the boy, as he possessed himself of a coin. -“Maybe he caught a car.” - -“That’s probably what he did,” agreed Crawford. - -The boy left him and walked swiftly back to the hotel, but the miner -followed much more slowly. He had been very favorably impressed by -Chick and could not account for his sudden disappearance. - -“Did I bore him as much as that?” he wondered. “He might at least have -left some excuse, I should think, even if I had taken up too much of -his time. If he had stayed he could have advised me about Jimmy.” - -He had failed to find Stone in his room, and the place seemed to -indicate that his partner had not been there since morning. Yet, -despite his anxiety, he was very reluctant to do anything, since he -knew that if Stone were all right, he would greatly resent anything -which looked like meddling with his affairs. When Crawford returned to -the lobby of the Windermere, however, he found that his brief absence -had brought developments. - -These developments were to have considerable bearing on his affairs, -although he was not to know of that for the present. While he was out -of the building, Stone had returned, and had met Doctor Follansbee. - -When Crawford reappeared, the clerk beckoned to him. - -“Mr. Stone has just come in, Mr. Crawford, and has gone to his room -with a friend,” he was informed. - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - - A BAD COMBINATION. - - -A look of great relief passed over Crawford’s face as he thanked the -clerk. - -“Friend, eh?” he said to himself. “I didn’t think he had a single one -in these parts, except myself, and I’m afraid he doesn’t think I’m his -friend now.” - -The elevator was not at hand; consequently, he walked upstairs to the -second floor. Passing along the corridor, he halted in front of number -twenty-two and knocked. - -“Who is that?” came the thick voice of James Stone. - -“It’s only Win Crawford,” he returned, turning the knob of the door. -He found it locked, however, and his partner’s voice called out -impatiently: - -“I’m busy just now, and don’t want to be disturbed.” - -With a shrug of his shoulders, and a return of the old troubled look on -his face, Crawford turned away and went on to his own room to dress for -dinner. - -“Don’t want to be disturbed,” the mine owner thought, half bitterly. -“There’s no mistake about it. All of his old affection for me is dead. -Heaven only knows how it’s come about, but I’m sure it isn’t my fault!” - -Presently he was standing in front of his dresser, glancing -mechanically at his bearded face in the mirror, and shaking his head. - -“I’d give all I possess to find out what is the matter,” he said. -“Jimmy and I have been like brothers for years, and the way he’s -treating me now is almost more than I can bear. I sometimes wish we’d -never found the mine, and were back again footing it through the bush -together. We didn’t have any money, and we never knew where the next -meal was coming from, but—we were friends then.” - -As he crossed to the wardrobe he imagined he heard his name spoken, and -came to a halt close to the connecting door. It was evident that the -barrier was a thin one. - -A murmur of voices came to his ear; but it was much too indistinct for -him to make out any words. He could distinguish Stone’s gruff tones, -and also the sound of another voice—a much sharper, higher-pitched one. -But that was all. - -With an effort, Crawford roused himself and turned away. “Come, -come!” he said to himself. “That isn’t fair. You’ve never been an -eavesdropper, and you’re not going to turn to that sort of thing at -your time of life.” - -He went on with his dressing, and at length heard the scrape of a key -in the lock of the next door. Crossing to his own, Crawford opened it -quietly and looked out. Stone was striding down the wide corridor, and -by his side walked a thin, short, dried-up-looking individual. - -As the two figures turned at the end of the corridor to go on down the -stairs, the electric light at the landing shone for a moment full on -the face of Stone’s companion. Crawford had a glimpse of a bony jaw, a -hooked, cruel nose, and a pair of small unprepossessing eyes. - -“By George! What an ugly-looking fellow Jimmy has picked up!” the miner -exclaimed, as he quickly withdrew his head, in order not to be seen -spying on his old partner. “I wonder who the runt is, and where Jimmy -got hold of him. They seemed to have something interesting to talk -about.” - -He little dreamed that the subject they had found interesting was -himself, and that the object of their conversation had been the -devising of ways and means for taking his life. - -The future, however, was to reveal it all to him, and, although he did -not suspect anything at that moment there were others who did. - -The bell boy had been right. - -Chick had indeed run for a passing car and boarded it after emerging -from the Windermere, and that explained his sudden disappearance from -the street. - -He had been so full of his discovery, and so anxious to escape from -the hotel before Doctor Follansbee could see him and connect him with -Crawford, that he had run a certain risk in dodging through the traffic -and flinging himself on a moving trolley. - -When he reached home a few minutes later, he found dinner waiting for -him, and his chief and some of the others at the table. - -“Hello, Chick!” was the greeting his chief gave him. “So you’re back at -last, are you? I got your message. Have you been with Crawford all this -time?” - -The young detective seated himself hastily, gave an account of the -afternoon’s program and then wound up with the startling information -that he had heard Doctor Follansbee asking for Stone. At the mention of -the specialist’s name, Carter’s lithe body stiffened, and he darted a -quick glance at Chick. - -“Follansbee and Stone!” he repeated. “That combination looks bad. I -don’t like it.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - - A BIRD OF ILL OMEN. - - -“Neither did I,” his assistant answered. “Don’t forget, though, that -that young doctor down in South America insisted that Stone should -consult a specialist upon reaching New York. It looks as if Follansbee -were the man.” - -“That seems probable,” Nick agreed, “but it doesn’t help matters very -much. For all I know, Floyd may be a scamp himself, and even if he -isn’t, and has communicated with Follansbee in good faith, the latter -may try some trick. Both Crawford and Stone are the sort of men who -would be looked upon as easy marks. They’ve been out of the country for -many years, and they now possess a million dollars between them. What’s -more, they’re almost friendless here in New York. That fact would -appeal to Follansbee. He made the mistake of aiming too high the last -time—of trying to victimize a man who was too well known. If he hasn’t -turned over a new leaf—and I fear he hasn’t—we may be pretty sure that -he’ll tackle a different proposition the next time.” - -“Well, I didn’t feel easy about it,” Chick admitted. “That’s why I -hurried out without waiting for Crawford to return.” - -A brief silence fell between them, although some of the others at the -table renewed in lower tones the conversation which Chick’s entrance -had interrupted. The chief was eating mechanically and hurriedly, and -the absent-minded expression on his face told Chick that something was -in prospect. - -Presently the detective refused his dessert, and rose to his feet. -“What’s the number of Crawford’s room at the Windermere?” he asked. - -“Twenty-one,” Chick answered. - -Carter went out into the hall, where the nearest of the several -telephone connections in the house was located. The listening Chick -heard him shuffling over the pages of the directory, and then caught -the click as the receiver was removed from its hook. - -The chief gave a number, and after a little delay asked: “Is this the -Windermere?” In another moment he went on: “I wish to engage a room for -a few days, and I’m particular about its location. Is number twenty-two -vacant?” - -A slight grin parted his assistant’s lips. “It isn’t?” he heard his -chief ask. “Then how about twenty?” There was another pause, and then: -“Good! I’ll take it. Mortimer is the name—Thomas Mortimer. Got that? -Thanks!” - -In a moment Carter put his head in at the dining room door. “I’d like -to see you in the study when you get through,” he said to Chick. “Don’t -hurry, though. There’s time enough.” - -His assistant did justice to the meal, but wasted no time in -conversation with the rest. Fifteen minutes later he went up to the -study and found his chief seated at the desk. - -“You think Crawford is in danger, then?” Chick asked, as he entered. - -Carter’s face was grave. “I fear he is,” he said. “Something tells me -that I may be called on to save our friend’s life again before long—or -try to. It’s more than possible, of course, that my suspicions are -groundless. It isn’t likely that Stone knew Follansbee was a crook -before he called on him. He may not know it now, and Follansbee may -not be planning anything out of the way. The situation is full of -sinister possibilities, however, and I feel compelled to get on the -ground without much delay. It promises to be a complicated affair. If -Follansbee is running straight, all well and good. On the other hand, -he may be planning to victimize one or the other of the partners, or -both.” - -Chick nodded. “He’s quite capable of doing them both,” he agreed. - -“There’s no doubt about that,” Carter went on. “I hope I’m wrong, -but I have come to look upon him as a bird of ill omen. Whenever -his vulturelike face appears, I’m inclined to take it as a sign of -impending trouble. If I misjudge him, I’m sorry, but I don’t intend to -be caught napping this time if I can help it.” - -“And you’re really going to stay at the Windermere for the present, -chief?” - -“Yes, that’s the least I can do. If Stone has joined forces with -Follansbee, Crawford will have little chance against them. It would -not be so bad if Crawford would only realize his danger, and would -consent to take proper precautions. As you know, though, he has already -experienced no less than three attacks on the part of his old partner, -and yet he still sticks by him. I can’t help admiring the man for his -loyalty, but it’s very quixotic, and I feel that I’ll have to guard him -from himself.” - -“Are you going to tell Crawford that you’re coming to the hotel to -live?” - -Nick shook his head decidedly. - -“By no means,” he returned. “Crawford is much too simple-minded a man -for that, and is more than likely to give me away. I shall disguise -myself to-night before I go there, and you’ll have to hold the fort -here while I’m away. Of course, you can communicate with me whenever -you have to.” - -Chick’s face changed its expression. - -“But you’ll give me a chance to take a hand in this affair as soon as -the time is ripe, won’t you, chief?” he pleaded. “I didn’t come out -with flying colors from our previous bout with Follansbee, and I’d like -to get another crack at him.” - -The chief was at the door of the study now, and he turned and nodded to -his assistant, a slight smile playing about his lips. - -“All right!” he answered. “You’ll have a chance, I promise you, if the -case shapes up as I anticipate.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - - NICK CARTER MISCALCULATES. - - -At seven o’clock on the evening of the twenty-fourth the dining room of -the Hotel Windermere presented a scene of animation. The big hotel was -fairly well filled, and most of its guests, as well as many outsiders, -seemed to be on hand. - -At a table in one of the little alcoves sat a quietly dressed gentleman -in evening clothes. A close-clipped, iron-gray mustache adorned -his lips, and the hair on his temples was tinged with gray, which -contrasted with the deep tan of his hands and neck. He was known in the -hotel as Thomas Mortimer, a wealthy traveler and sportsman. - -From where he sat, Nick—as we may as well call him—could see the table -at which Crawford and Stone usually seated themselves. He had been in -the hotel constantly, and had kept a sharp watch on Stone’s movements, -but the miner’s actions had puzzled him not a little. Several times he -had met Stone stalking along the corridor or in the lobby, his brows -knitted, and his lips moving as if he were talking to himself. - -Nick had been too clever to thrust his companionship on the man, and -Stone did not even know that “Mortimer” had a room so near to his own. -It was not part of the detective’s policy to allow Stone, or the more -subtle-minded Follansbee, to have a chance to penetrate his disguise. - -So far, however, he had not been able to find out anything that was -likely to help him in his self-imposed task of guarding the life of -Winthrop Crawford. Follansbee had not reappeared at the Windermere, and -although there was every possibility that Stone had been holding some -sort of communication with the scoundrelly physician, the detective had -not been able to discover the means by which he did so. - -Crawford, on his part, had been busy. Several men had called on him -at the hotel, evidently to urge the advantage of certain investments, -and one or two had been closeted with the miner for several hours. -It was obvious that he was trying to find a safe channel for some of -his money, and probably at the same time seek an outlet for his own -energies. He was not a man who would be likely to settle down and be -content to do nothing. - -James Stone, however, seemed to be of a different type, or else his -insane suspicions of his former partner kept him in a state of mind -which prevented him from seeking new business responsibilities. - -Nick noted that Stone was the first to take his seat at the table. -Crawford did not put in an appearance until a few minutes later, and -by that time his partner had already finished the first course. The -two men exchanged a few monosyllables as the meal went on, and as soon -as he had finished, Stone rose with only the curtest of nods to his -partner. - -Nick had already signed the waiter’s slip, but had been toying with -a little fruit. He rose and followed Stone, but without any sign of -hurrying. His man used the stairs, and the detective followed in the -elevator, reaching the second floor ahead of his quarry. - -Nick’s room, number twenty, occupied an angle of the corridor, its door -being almost opposite the elevator, while those leading to the rooms -occupied by Stone and Crawford were just around the corner. - -When the detective entered his room, he left his door slightly ajar, -and a few moments later he heard Stone’s footsteps, as the miner passed -and went on round the angle. Nick gently closed his door and crossed -his room to the window, without turning on the lights. - -The window looked out into a big courtyard of the Windermere, and from -it, by glancing sharply to his right, Nick could see the window of -Crawford’s bedroom, and also that of Stone’s, both of which were not on -a line with his, but at right angles. - -Peering out through the darkness, he saw a light leap up suddenly in -Stone’s room, and presently the shadow of a man appeared on the shade. - -The moving shadowgraph was significant. The detective inferred from -Stone’s actions that he must be putting on a light overcoat. - -“He seems to be going out again,” the detective commented mentally. -“And in that case, I’d better go ahead again.” - -He stepped back from the window, hurriedly snapped on the electric -lights, and secured his own hat and walking stick. That done, he left -the room, locked the door behind him, and made for the stairs. No one -followed, and he concluded that something had delayed Stone. - -The detective slowed down and leisurely entered the lobby. He seated -himself there after buying a paper at the news stand; but ten minutes -passed without any sign of James Stone. - -“What is keeping him?” he wondered. “Can it be that he sneaked out -through one of the other entrances?” - -The thought was a disagreeable one, and Nick decided to put it to the -test at once, without further delay. He climbed the stairs once more, -hurriedly entered his own room, and crossed to the window. - -A glance to the right told him that his suspicion was well founded. -There was no light in Stone’s room now, and it was obvious that the -tall miner had left. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - - ON THE FIRE ESCAPE. - - -An exclamation of annoyance broke from Nick Carter’s lips. - -“I didn’t give him credit for so much cunning,” he thought. “But hanged -if I see why he should have felt it necessary to skulk away in that -fashion. It can’t be possible that he suspects me, and I don’t know of -any reason why Crawford should not know of his going out.” - -He concluded on the whole that it was probably an evidence of the -instinctive slyness of the mentally affected, and nothing more. -Further, he concluded that Stone had probably turned along the corridor -in the other direction, used the servants’ stairs, and left by one of -the side exits. Of course, it was possible that his demented brain had -urged him on to the use of the fire escape. The more he thought about -it, the more he became convinced that the latter supposition was nearer -the truth. It would be just like a man in Stone’s condition to resort -to such a ruse. - -The miner’s disappearance had been a great disappointment to the -detective. When he had discovered from the shadows on the drawn shade -that Stone was going out, his hopes had risen. He had counted on -following the man and getting some line on his movements, but now that -was out of the question. - -He knew that it was useless to follow Stone after that delay, but as a -result of a few seconds’ deliberation, he decided not to let the chance -slip altogether. Donning his lightweight overcoat, and buttoning it up -to his chin in order to conceal the conspicuous expanse of white shirt -front—which might draw undesired attention—he softly raised the sash of -his window and stepped out on the wide sill. The fire escape did not -lead down directly past his room, but one end of the iron platform came -within two or three feet of the window on the right side. - -It was the simplest matter in the world for Nick to grasp the rail and -to hoist himself over. - -The windows of the hotel were supplied with a novel patent catch which -automatically fastened both the upper and lower sashes when the latter -was pulled down. Nick, therefore, took pains to leave his window open -after passing through it. - -It was this peculiarity of the windows which had brought him out on -the fire escape. He knew that if Stone had his wits about him, and had -departed by that route, he must have left his window open or fixed it -in some way to prevent his being locked out. It was to find if such -precautions had been taken that he had made the effort. - -When he approached Stone’s window, the lower sash seemed to be closed, -but a closer inspection revealed that a narrow wedge of wood had been -inserted, leaving a half-inch crack at the bottom—just enough to permit -a man’s fingers to get a purchase on the sash and raise it. - -It was only a trivial thing, but it gave Nick a clew to what was going -to happen. - -“He didn’t want the window to be locked by accident,” he mused, “and so -he placed the wedge there. That means he’s going to come back this way, -and it seems to me also that he wishes his partner to think he has been -in all the evening—probably that he has gone to bed. It looks as if -things were coming to a head.” - -There was a cluster of small lights on a pole in the middle of the -big courtyard, and the shades of many of the windows opening on it -were up. It was light enough, therefore, for the detective to see with -reasonable clearness—and to be seen, if any one happened to look in his -direction. - -He leaned over the rail and peered down. He was only at the level of -the second floor, but the pavement of the courtyard was flush with the -basement; therefore, two floors beneath him. He looked to see if the -lowest ladder of the fire escape was in place but saw that it was not. - -“Stone probably dropped from the last platform,” he concluded. “It -wouldn’t have been anything for a man of his active habits. I wonder -how he expects to get back, though. By George! There’s a painter’s -ladder lying on the pavement on the other side of the court. Such -things never ought to be left around. The sight of that ladder would -tickle a thief to death. Stone probably saw it and made his plans -accordingly. - -“He expects to use it to reach the lower platform, but I’m curious to -know what else is in his mind. According to Crawford he’s sane enough -in all respects but one—and he wasn’t born yesterday. He must know that -he can’t leave the ladder set up against the landing when he comes -back to his room. If he does, there will surely be an investigation in -the morning, if not before. Does he merely think that there will be -a little burglar scare which won’t affect him, or is there something -deeper in all this? - -“Has he gone off half-cocked, or—— Great Ned! I wonder if that can be -it. If he were going to bring some one back with him—some one who would -be leaving by the same route later on who could put the ladder back -where it was originally—that would effectually remove the difficulty. -If Stone is as shrewd as I give him credit for being, I’ll wager that’s -what’s in the wind. And I can give a guess at his prospective visitor’s -identity.” - -He referred, of course, to Doctor Follansbee; and the possibility that -the latter was expected later on that night was enough to stir his -pulses. It suggested that the period of inactivity was about to come to -an end, and that the test of his unsolicited guardianship of Winthrop -Crawford was at hand. - -Stone had gone, and it was unnecessary, as well as useless, to attempt -to follow him. All that remained was to await his return as patiently -as possible, and in the meantime to keep an eye—or at least, an ear—out -for Crawford. - -The latter proved an easy matter, for about an hour later he heard the -door of Crawford’s room open and close, and from his window saw the -light flash up in his new friend’s. - -A glance at his watch told him that it was now almost ten o’clock. -He knew that Crawford was a man who rose early, and there was every -probability that the miner was about to turn in for the night. - -Nick’s own room had remained in darkness. He now drew a chair close to -his window and took up his vigil, his arms resting on the sill. Fifteen -or twenty minutes later the light vanished in Crawford’s room. In order -to make sure, the detective hurriedly rose, slipped to his own door, -and opened it slightly. His friend did not appear in the corridor, -which was sufficient proof that he was going to bed. - -Nick reclosed his door and locked it. “You are settled for the night,” -he thought; “and now for Stone.” - -He was possessed of the infinite patience that means so much to a -detective, and is so essential to the success of any one who takes up -that profession. The rumble of traffic gradually died down, and light -after light went out in the hotel. At last, in the distance the clock -in the Metropolitan tower struck twelve. Yet the bunch light still -glowed in the courtyard below, and many windows were rectangles of -light, bright or subdued, as the case might be, for New York is very -slow to go to bed. - -The detective’s lower sash was raised about six or eight inches, -and that fact at length enabled him to hear a slight sound in the -courtyard, even before his watchful eyes had warned him of the -approach. He did not make the mistake of leaning out of the window. -Indeed, it would not have been easy to do so, in view of the narrow -space he had left. - -In any case, it was unnecessary. The painter’s ladder was well within -his range of vision, and a few moments later he had the satisfaction -of seeing two figures steal into view and grasp it. They had come from -the open end of the courtyard, which was on Nick’s side, and out of his -sight. - -They picked up the ladder and started to sidle across the court in the -direction of the fire escape. There was more than a hint of sinister -purpose in their furtive movements, and an instant later first one and -then the other raised his head and scanned the tiers of windows above, -as if to make sure that they were not observed. - -As they did so, the lights of the cluster fell on their faces for a -fleeting instant, and the muscles of Nick’s jaws tightened. He had -barely glanced at the taller figure. It was the shorter, slightly -stooped one which interested him most, and he had seen all that was -necessary. - -The second man wore the repellent mask of Stephen Follansbee. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - - A FIENDISH PLOT. - - -The two skulkers soon disappeared, having drawn too close to the nearer -wall for Nick Carter to see them. He put his ear close to the opening, -however, and listened. - -He was enabled to hear the ladder placed against the fire escape, -faint though the sound was, and to check off the men’s movements as -they climbed upward. When they approached the second floor, he quietly -slipped out of his chair and retreated into the shadows in the middle -of the room. He did not care to be seen at the window, even though his -identity was so well cloaked. - -Apparently no word was exchanged on the part of the two climbers. They -were running a considerable risk, and they doubtless knew it. There -was quite enough light for them to be seen if any one should look out -of one of the many windows which opened on the court. Fortunately for -them, however, they did not have far to go, and were not obliged to -pass a single bedroom. - -They made their way upward with a great deal of care, but Nick could -plainly hear the faint scrape of their shoes on the metal steps. - -It was obvious that they had already settled all the details. - -“They have everything cut and dried,” the detective told himself, his -keen eyes glinting in the shadows, “and men of their type do not go to -such deliberate pains for nothing.” - -After that the sounds told the detective that the first man, probably -Stone himself, had reached the landing just to the right of his window, -and almost immediately afterward he caught the faint noise made as the -sash was raised. - -There was a little more rustling and scraping, then silence. The -detective concluded that it was safe enough to return to his point of -vantage outside. Just as he did so, he saw the lower sash of Stone’s -window being pulled down. - -“I hope they leave that wedge in place,” he murmured. - -The light flashed up, and the shade was drawn down—by Doctor -Follansbee, as the shadow showed. - -There was no way of telling, however, whether the wedge had been -removed or not. Follansbee had doubtless been the last to pass through, -and probably did not know of its existence; and then it might have been -dislodged by the passage of one or the other of them. - -It was time for the watcher to become the man of action, and the -transformation entailed considerable risk, as the detective knew. He -did not mean to remain in idleness where he was; but, on the contrary, -had determined to repeat his maneuver of some time before. In other -words, he meant to crawl out on the fire escape once more and take a -position outside of the miner’s window, in the hope that he could hear -enough of the conversation between the two to enable him to get a clew -to their intentions, if not with regard to Winthrop Crawford. - -The sounds they had made with all their care had brought his danger -home to him, and he realized that the necessity for climbing over the -iron railing made it likely that he would cause even more noise. The -attempt must be made, though, come what might, and Nick had already -made preparations for it. He had anticipated the necessity, and had -previously transferred a little instrument from one of his suit cases -to his pocket. - -It was a sort of disc made of hard rubber for the most part, and about -an inch in thickness. Its use was obscure at first glance, but would -have been sufficiently plain upon examination. It was a sort of ear -trumpet designed for the deaf, but without the old-fashioned horn -attachment. - -He buttoned his coat once more about him, then proceeded to raise his -window the required distance; but at the risk of missing something -important, he took his time about it, with the result that the slight -sound could not have been heard even a few feet away. When there was -room enough for him to crawl through, he did so, and, leaning over, -grasped the end of the platform. He stepped noiselessly across the -gap, threw one leg over the railing and gently lowered himself to the -grating. Along this he tiptoed, his thin-soled shoes making practically -no sound as he advanced. In a few moments he was kneeling in front of -Stone’s window with the rubber disc held to his right ear, and his ear -lowered to the crack at the bottom of the sash. - -The wooden wedge was still in place, luckily for him, consequently the -sash had remained slightly raised. As soon as the device was brought -into use, it amplified the sounds it caught, and what had been an -indistinct murmur of voices became an easily audible conversation. - -“Be very careful of this,” were the first definite words he heard. They -were in Doctor Follansbee’s voice. “I will leave it in the case here -for you,” the high, thin tones went on. “Don’t press the plunger until -you have inserted the needle underneath the skin. Is that clear?” - -“Yes.” - -The detective hardly recognized Stone’s voice, so hoarse and agitated -did it sound. - -“The drug and sponge will be easy for you to handle,” Follansbee -explained. “Wait until you get into the room and are six feet or so -from the bed, then just sprinkle a few drops on the sponge from this -vial.” - -“Won’t he smell the stuff and wake up?” - -“Certainly not, unless you make a noise. The drug has a penetrating -odor, of course, for the time being, but his sleeping sense won’t -convey a message of warning soon enough to spoil your plans. If the -odor reaches his nostrils before you’re ready to act, and he’s really -asleep, it will probably only cause a momentary dream of some sort; an -attempt of the subconscious self to explain the situation.” - -“All right, but—but won’t they be able to tell that he’s been drugged?” - -Nick heard a thin, piping laugh. “You must think me a fool,” -Follansbee’s voice returned. “The keenest scent would be incapable -of detecting any odor in the room five minutes after that drug is -used, and it leaves little or no after effects. Crawford will wake up -to-morrow morning without the slightest suspicion that anything has -happened to him, and he’ll feel perfectly normal.” - -“And what about the—the other?” - -“It will not begin to show itself until Monday or Tuesday,” was the -confident answer. “And even then the symptoms will be inconclusive. -There aren’t half a dozen physicians who would know what they meant in -any of the early stages, and by the time any one could authoritatively -diagnose the case, the patient would be beyond help. In fact, he’ll -be beyond it for all ordinary purposes from the time the serum is -introduced into his system, and before the twenty-seventh he’ll be -dead.” - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - - QUICK WORK IS NECESSARY. - - -“Dead!” - -The way in which Stone repeated the word gave a hint to the listener of -the grim hatred that possessed that demented brain. - -There was a moment’s silence, then Follansbee’s voice came again. -“Above all, however,” he said, “remember that you must not be in a -hurry. Do everything deliberately and don’t get rattled for a moment. -There’s nothing to fear if you keep your nerve. Finally, don’t attempt -to carry out your—operations shall we call it?—until half past two.” - -“Why should we wait? Why couldn’t we do it now?” Stone urged. - -“If you were a medical man you would know why,” Follansbee answered -in his squeaking voice. “Between two and three o’clock in the morning -human life is at its lowest ebb. The flame of vitality burns more dimly -then than at any time during the twenty-four hours. That’s the answer, -and its application to this case ought to be apparent enough.” - -Nick heard a movement, as though Doctor Follansbee had leaned forward -in his chair to drive his point home. - -“You have waited months for this, Stone,” the peculiar voice went on, -“and an hour more or less can’t make any difference. Crawford will be -in a sound sleep at half past two, if he’s as normal as he seems to be, -and the low vitality which is natural at that hour will make him an -easy subject to handle; in other words, you will have the best chance -of successfully drugging him.” - -The chair creaked again. - -“You’re going now?” asked the miner. - -“Yes. It’s much better that I should. My continued presence would -tempt us to talk, and we might disturb the man in the next room. You -don’t want to do that, you know. You want to find him as helpless as -possible when the time comes, so I’d advise you to keep as still as you -can. Don’t pace the room, or anything like that.” - -“But I’m nervous as a cat,” objected Stone. “Who wouldn’t be?” - -“I suppose you are,” Follansbee admitted, “but—here’s something to -quiet you. It will give you new courage, too. Just deposit this powder -on the end of your tongue and wash it down with a little water.” - -There was a pause, and the detective suspected that the miner was -staring questionably at Follansbee. Stone’s next words confirmed it. - -“You’re sure about this?” the man asked slowly. “It won’t hurt me or -keep me from doing what I’ve sworn to do?” - -“Certainly not,” was the shrill response. “What do you take me for, -Stone? I’m in your pay, am I not? I must earn that forty-five thousand, -if I expect to enjoy it. Why should I try any tricks on you?” - -“That’s all right—why should you?” Stone said more quietly. “I’ll take -it if it will fix me up in the way you say. Here goes!” - -The detective outside held his breath. “Great Scott!” he thought. “I -wonder if Follansbee is putting up a job on him, too. He’d be quite -capable of it, but it doesn’t seem possible that he’s trying any such -tricks so early in the game. If he means to do anything of that sort, -I should think he would wait until Stone had killed his partner, or -had attempted to do so. To Follansbee’s certain knowledge, that would -give the latter a hold on Stone which Follansbee could use to advantage -before going any further. I may be mistaken about that, of course. -Follansbee does strange things, and may have something up his sleeve -which I don’t understand. There’s a chance that Stone is in grave -danger at this moment. I doubt it, though, and I’m afraid I can’t help -him if he is.” - -Nick’s main concern was to protect Winthrop Crawford if possible. He -pitied Stone much more than he blamed him, because he knew that the -man was not responsible for his actions, but Crawford’s life was more -important than Stone’s, and a premature interference might spoil the -case that was developing against Doctor Follansbee. - -“That will steady you,” he heard the specialist inform Stone. “I’m off -now, and remember that I shall be waiting for you in front of the bank -around the corner. I’ll have a car there in readiness at two-thirty. -I trust you told the hotel people that you would probably be away -to-night?” - -“Yes, I arranged that. I didn’t see why it was necessary, but——” - -Had the detective been able to look into the room, he would have found -that Follansbee was facing his man, but that Stone was not quick enough -to notice the cold flicker that came into the hard eyes. The detective -would have perceived it, though, had he been in a position to do so, -and would have jumped to the conclusion that the rascally physician -had a reason of his own for wanting Stone to join him as soon as the -dastardly crime had been committed. - -“My reason is very obvious,” Follansbee declared in his thin, cackling -voice. “I want you to establish an alibi in case something unexpected -should happen.” - -He thrust his face forward. - -“You don’t want to be electrocuted, do you?” he demanded. “That would -be a poor sort of revenge on your partner.” - -Nick heard the ex-miner draw a deep breath. - -“Electrocuted!” came the deep, husky voice. “I don’t think I’d care for -that. They—they would send me to the chair, though, wouldn’t they, if -they found out?” - -Follansbee knew better than that. He was aware that Stone would escape -any such fate owing to his mental condition, but it did not suit his -purposes to say so. “As sure as you’re alive!” he answered callously. - -As he spoke, he turned to the window and started for it. - -It was not the sound of his approaching footsteps that warned the -listener, however. Nick had already stiffened and drawn back as soon -as his ears caught the difference in Follansbee’s tones, caused by the -fact that the latter had faced about toward the window while in the act -of making his last remark. - -The thin, stunted shadow of the head physician of St. Swithin’s was -already on the shade, and quick work was necessary on Nick’s part. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - - IN NEED OF EVIDENCE. - - -Nick Carter moved with the quickness of a cat. In a twinkling he had -jerked the ear piece away and slipped it into his pocket. While doing -so, he had straightened up noiselessly and started along the platform -of the fire escape in the direction of his own window. - -It was a close shave. Follansbee had started to raise the shade before -Nick even reached the railing over which he had to climb, and while -he was crawling over the barrier the sash of Stone’s window was being -lifted. - -Fortunately for him, however, Follansbee tried to make as little noise -as possible, consequently his movements were slower than they otherwise -would have been. For all that, though, the detective was not out of -sight by the time Follansbee stuck his head and shoulders through the -opening. - -It was a tense moment, and Nick’s heart skipped a beat or two. Should -Follansbee happen to glance that way the first thing and catch a -glimpse of his feet disappearing through the window the consequences -would be disastrous. - -Despite the temptation to do so, he did not forget his caution for a -moment, or allow his extreme haste to betray him into a clumsy move. -He slipped from view almost noiselessly, and tiptoed away from his -window into the shadows of his room. - -All the time he was listening intently for some evidence that -Follansbee had seen him, but none came. Seemingly the physician -continued to climb through Stone’s window, and, having done so, -proceeded on his stealthy way down the fire escape. - -The detective heard a slight sound, followed by the grating of the -sash. Evidently the ex-miner had again closed the window. - -As soon as Nick dared, he ventured back and stealthily peered over his -own sill. Follansbee was then descending the painter’s ladder. And when -the bottom was reached, he lifted the ladder carefully away from the -lower platform of the fire escape and carried it, with considerable -difficulty, back to the place from which it had been taken. - -Subsequently his figure vanished, going in the direction of the open -end of the court. - -“The end of the first act,” thought Nick, “and the play promises to be -a hair-raiser.” - -With his brows drawn together and his arms folded across his breast, -he paced softly up and down his room, turning his discoveries over and -over in his mind. He had heard enough to realize that Crawford was in -deadly peril. With his usual cunning, Stephen Follansbee had again -taken what promised to be a perfectly, safe course. To the specialist’s -crooked brain, there could be no possible chance of fixing the -contemplated crime on him, if it was Stone, the tool, who was playing -the principal part. - -To be sure, Nick had overheard a conversation which left him in no -doubt as to where the real responsibility lay. He had heard Follansbee -say that as a result of the proposed measures, Crawford would be dead -before the twenty-seventh. To the uninitiated, that would have seemed -conclusive, and more than enough to convict the physician. Nick Carter -knew better, however; at any rate, he knew enough to be sure that -Follansbee would make a great fight if the case ever came to trial, and -might easily wriggle out of it. - -In the first place, he was a distinguished man, a leading light in his -profession, and the ruling spirit of a great hospital. Nick was the -only witness, and it would be very hard, if not impossible, for the -detective, with all his reputation, to convince a jury on the strength -of such evidence alone that Doctor Stephen Follansbee would stoop to -become the accessory to a murder. - -Follansbee would have the advantage of dealing with a demented man, -and could insist that everything which seemed suspicious about his -actions—the use of the fire escape and all—had been due to that fact. -In other words, he might build up a plausible excuse on the theory that -he had been humoring Stone in order to study his case, and to see how -far the miner’s insanity would carry him. - -“It must be the germ of some deadly disease, characteristic of the -tropics,” Nick told himself, “and he has left the hypodermic syringe -there for Stone to use. That’s as plain as the nose on my face. But -without more evidence than I now have, I can’t be sure of securing a -conviction. Follansbee is as shrewd as they make them. I wouldn’t be -a bit surprised to have him claim that the contents of the syringe -were harmless, and that he was merely ‘stringing’ Stone for some -medical reason. What he said about Crawford’s death could always be -attributed to the same motive, and his reputation is so great that it -would probably hypnotize a jury into accepting his word for it. He’s a -cunning rascal, and no mistake. How am I going to manage this affair? -I’ve got to do something before two-thirty, but what?” - -It was seldom that Nick Carter felt at a loss, yet he realized that his -position was a peculiarly difficult one. He might have forced his way -into James Stone’s room, of course, but he felt that the mine owner -would have sufficient cunning to destroy at once the only tangible -evidence of guilt as soon as he heard the first alarm. And even if he -did foil Stone’s attempt that night, the detective feared that it would -only be putting off the evil day. He could have Stone locked up, to be -sure, and an inquiry into his sanity begun. He might also be able to -secure Follansbee’s arrest. - -That would seem to clear the way and remove Crawford’s danger; but the -detective saw further than that. He felt certain that Follansbee must -have demanded a large fee of Stone, either for treatment or frankly for -the services of getting rid of the man’s partner. Furthermore, he was -assured that Follansbee had contrived it so that the fee would be paid -whatever happened. - -In that case the arrest or death would by no means end the matter. -Follansbee’s professional standing would undoubtedly result in an -arrangement whereby the specialist would go free under heavy bonds -pending his trial, and the moment he was at liberty to do so, he would -almost certainly begin work on a new attempt to get rid of Winthrop -Crawford and to earn his money. - -That fact had to be taken into consideration in connection with -Follansbee, for the latter would not be treated as an ordinary -criminal; therefore, it became increasingly evident that Nick would -have to meet cunning with cunning if he hoped to handle the affair -successfully. - -At last, the hint of a plan came to him. He halted by his window and -looked out again. The light was still shining in Stone’s room. “I must -go in there without the fellow’s knowledge,” he thought. “A minute, -possibly half a minute, would do, with good luck. I wonder how I can -manage it, though?” - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - - HELP FROM THE HOUSE DETECTIVE. - - -Nick looked at his watch. It was ten minutes of one. - -More than an hour and a half remained before half past two. There -seemed to be plenty of time, therefore; but he could not be sure -that Stone would take Follansbee’s advice and wait until that hour -before attacking his partner. The man’s insane impatience might get -the upper hand and lead him to act before the time set. But the plan -which had come to Nick could be put into execution at once, and thus a -nerve-racking delay could be avoided. - -The detective might have acted wholly on his own responsibility, but -many difficulties would have been involved in that case, and he decided -against it. He turned on the lights in his room and looked up at the -wall in the neighborhood of the door. As he had anticipated, his eyes -fell upon an electric bell, which had doubtless been placed there in -order to arouse guests who might have left instructions for an early -call. If there was one in his room, there was doubtless one in each of -the others—including James Stone’s. Having made up his mind as to that, -the detective switched off the light again, softly unlocked and opened -his door, and slipped out into the corridor. - -The Hotel Windermere was a modern one, with all the latest safeguards, -including floor clerks; in other words, there was a clerk on each -floor night and day. These clerks had desks in the main corridors, -with mirrors about them so arranged that they could see what went on -in all of the side passages. Calls from their floor were handled by -them, and it was their business to see that everything was orderly and -respectable, to scrutinize visitors, to note the comings and going of -guests, and to keep a watch for delinquencies on the part of employees. - -Nick approached the clerk on his floor, a young woman of thirty-three -or four. - -“Will you kindly tell me where I can find the house detective at this -hour?” he asked. - -The clerk looked him over in some surprise. “Has anything happened?” -she asked quickly. “Have you lost anything?” - -Nick smiled slightly. “Oh, no,” he answered. “It’s nothing of that -sort. I simply have business with your detective.” As he spoke, he -took out a two-dollar bill and laid it on the young woman’s desk. -“And I must ask that you look upon my interest in him as strictly -confidential,” he added. - -The clerk frowned slightly as she saw the money, then gave the -detective a searching look. “I can’t accept that, Mr. Mortimer,” she -said, giving him the name he was using at the hotel. “We clerks are -not allowed to accept tips. It wouldn’t do, you know. Thank you just -as much, though. You may be sure I won’t say anything about it. You’ll -find Mr. Stickney, the detective, in room twelve hundred and twelve.” - -“Thanks,” Nick replied. “And accept my apologies, please. I didn’t -think for a moment of the policy here. I don’t want to go up to the -detective’s room, though, for that would arouse the curiosity of the -elevator boy. Will you kindly telephone and ask him to meet me here as -soon as he can?” - -“Certainly,” was the reply. - -Ten minutes later, the house detective, having dressed hastily, put in -an appearance. Nick greeted him and drew him aside. He knew Stickney, -but had not seen fit to reveal that fact to the floor clerk. - -“Look here, Stickney,” he said, as soon as they were out of earshot, “I -suppose you wonder what you’re up against. I’m registered here under -the name of Thomas Mortimer, but you know me better as Nick Carter.” - -Stickney gave a low whistle. “For the love of Mike!” he ejaculated -under his breath. “Let me have a good look at you. Yes, I guess you’re -Nick all right, although I wouldn’t have dreamed of it if I’d passed -you a dozen times. What’s the matter? Is there anything queer going on -here?” - -Nick nodded. “Very queer,” he answered. “This isn’t the proper time to -go into particulars, but I’ll tell you this much. The man in number -twenty-two has a room or two to rent in his upper story, and if you’re -not careful he’s going to commit a terrible crime this very night. -There are reasons for keeping dark, and for not taking him into custody -just yet. Will you help me, though, to save him from himself, and to -shield his intended victim?” - -“Sure thing!” was the prompt answer. “I’ll do anything I can. I’d like -to know a little more about it, and I’d insist if you were any one -else. I can trust you, though, and I’ll keep mum until you give me the -word. What is it you want?” - -“Something very simple.” - -Nick drew nearer to the house detective and spoke even lower. “Do you -get the idea?” he asked, in conclusion. - -Stickney nodded. “Of course,” he answered. “I can fix that up without -any trouble. Is that all you want me to do?” - -“That’s all,” Nick replied. “Wait for ten minutes after I get back to -my room, and then let it go. I’ll be ready to take advantage of the -opportunity. Keep out of sight yourself, and tip off our young friend -at the desk, so that she’ll know what to do when Stone complains. Tell -her to keep the whole affair quiet. I’ll let you know in due time how -I’ve succeeded; and if I need any more help later on I’ll surely call -upon you.” - -“I get you,” declared the house detective, and turned briskly away. - -Nick Carter quietly returned to his own room, locked himself in, and -went to his window. Stone’s light was still burning, but Crawford’s -window was as dark as before. To all appearances, Stone was biding his -time as Follansbee had advised. - -The detective consulted his watch once more, made a few preparations, -and then, stationing himself finally at his open, unlighted window, -awaited the prearranged signal. At the end of ten minutes a startling -din came to his ears from near at hand, and he prepared for action. - -The time had come. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - - THE HYPODERMIC. - - -The detective’s scheme was simplicity itself, and it promised success. -He had merely instructed Stickney to have Stone’s bell rung at the -appointed time, and to keep it ringing continuously until the miner -should leave his room in desperation to complain of the nuisance. - -If it worked out as Nick hoped, Stone’s absence would give him the -opportunity he sought, and meanwhile the miner would be informed that -the electrical apparatus must have been deranged in some way. It would -be looked to and “remedied;” whereupon, the ringing would cease, and -Stone would receive the apologies of the management. - -Nick assumed, however, that the miner would first telephone downstairs. -The din would make it difficult for him to be understood, though; and -even if he were, he would doubtless grow impatient at the delay and -soon leave his room to complain in person to the clerk. - -The fact that he was already dressed would make that easy, and Nick -counted on his doing so sooner or later. At any rate, he had arranged -with Stickney that the bell should continue its exasperating dinning if -possible until Stone had been routed out. - -On the other hand, there was a possibility, of course, that the man -would not act in accordance with expectations. He might remain at the -telephone, or even demolish the bell in his anger, especially as he -would doubtless be afraid that it would arouse Crawford, and that the -latter might not fall asleep again for some time. Nick had to run that -risk, though; and now he was impatiently awaiting some sign that his -ruse was working as he wished. - -The muffled ringing of the bell prevented him from telling whether -Stone was telephoning or not, but he had no doubt that such was the -case. Would the man stop at that, though? - -Evidently not; for two or three minutes after the bell began to ring -he caught the sound of an opening door, despite the racket, and almost -immediately afterward hurried footsteps passed his room. - -He waited for nothing more, but crawled through his window near to the -neighboring platform of the fire escape and laid hands on Stone’s sash. -It came up easily, and revealed an empty room, and the door ajar. It -was a risky undertaking, and one that was full of uncertainties. The -irate miner might return at any moment. Crawford might come in from the -adjoining room and denounce him as a suspicious character, or some one -else might put in an appearance to investigate the noise which must -have been disturbing many by that time. Worst of all, Stone had left -the door partly open and the light on, so that Nick had to work in the -open, with a possibility of being seen and interrupted at any moment. - -None of these things seemed to worry him, though. He slipped cautiously -into the room and looked about him with keen eyes. A faint ejaculation -of satisfaction escaped his lips as he caught sight of what he was -looking for. - -There was a small writing desk close to the head of the bed. It was -open, and on the extended leaf lay a small, flat, leather case. -Leaping forward, Nick opened the case and took out a small hypodermic -syringe. The plunger had been drawn back to its fullest extent, and the -detective’s lips tightened as he realized that in that little cylinder -lurked sure death. - -He paid no attention to the other articles in the case—the tiny bottle -with some colorless drug, the bit of sponge, and so on. He cared -nothing for them, and was interested only in the deadly hypodermic. - -Looking about him again, and listening all the while, he took out his -fountain pen, removed the cap, and unscrewed the pen itself; then he -squirted the contents of the syringe into the barrel of the pen, which -he had taken the precaution to empty before leaving his room, and -replaced the pen and cap. - -Having finished that manipulation, he carelessly thrust the pen back -into his pocket and went with long, silent strides to a stationary -washstand in a little alcove. He turned on the faucets, directed a -little stream of warm water into the syringe, and operated the plunger -several times, in order to clean the cylinder as well as he could; -after which he filled the syringe with water, and, leaving the plunger -out as he had found it, returned the instrument to the case. The case -closed, he made for the window. - -So swift had been his movements that he had been in the room hardly -more than a minute, and nothing had occurred to disturb him. The bell -had continued its deafening ringing, and he had thought he heard -Crawford’s bed creak, but Stone’s partner had not called out. He gave a -sigh of relief as he reached the balcony of the fire escape and plunged -out into the shadows at one side. In a few brief moments he was over -the railing and through his own window. - -He had hardly reached his room, however, before he heard Stone’s -familiar footsteps in the corridor outside. The miner was returning, -and muttering angrily to himself as he did so. Presently the noise -ceased. The bell had been “fixed.” The detective heard Stone pass again -and yet again, probably to tell the floor clerk that it was all right. - -Not until Stone’s door was finally closed and locked did the detective -drop into a chair. “Whew!” he said, half aloud, “that was warm work, -and not very good for the nerves. I’ve saved Crawford for the time -being, but my work isn’t done by any means—even for to-night.” - -He looked at his watch and found that it was quarter past one. There -was still an hour and a quarter if Stone obeyed instructions, and Nick -had no doubt that he would now. In fact, he might even wait longer, for -he would be certain to fear that the ringing of the bell had disturbed -Crawford, and would wish to give him plenty of time to fall into a deep -sleep again. - -Nick did not intend to remain idle, but he felt sure that he had some -time to kill, and he was glad of it. Despite his iron nerve, he felt -just a trifle shaken by the exacting ordeal through which he had just -gone; therefore, he took out a cigar, lighted it, and leaned back in a -Morris chair. He must have dozed off before long, for the next thing he -knew he sat up with a start. It was half past two. - -“Stone will probably be making a move now,” he thought, on the alert at -once. “I’m glad my mental alarm clock woke me when it did.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - - THE PLUNGER REACHES HOME. - - -Once more Nick Carter eased himself out of his window. It was getting -to be a habit with him. His long legs bridged the gap as before, but -this time his errand was, if possible, even more fraught with risk than -the previous ones had been. - -He lowered himself over the rail slowly and with infinite care, and -then, stooping, crept along the platform to Stone’s window. By peering -in through the crack between the sill and the partly lowered sash, he -saw the tall miner in the act of picking up the little leather case -from the writing desk. Stone’s back was turned to the detective, and -the latter seized the opportunity to slip noiselessly past the window. - -A few feet ahead of him loomed another window, dark and open at top -and bottom. Winthrop Crawford was fond of fresh air. The lower sash -was raised about eighteen inches, which made it possible for Nick to -flatten himself over the sill and crawl through. It required daring -under the circumstances, but his performance that night would have -established a reputation for that sort of thing on the part of any one. - -The room was in darkness, but the detective had previously found -opportunity to study the position of the furniture. He was able, -therefore, to avoid a collision, and his stockinged feet trod softly on -the thick carpet. A private bathroom opened off from the bedroom on the -side opposite the connecting door which led to Stone’s quarters. Nick -darted into this and began cautiously to close the door. - -“Let’s hope our friend Crawford is a sound sleeper,” he thought; “and -that this door isn’t inclined to squeak. If he wakes up now and starts -on a burglar hunt, it will mess things up hopelessly.” - -Crawford’s heavy breathing went on uninterruptedly, however, and the -sound was reassuring. It seemed to indicate, on the other hand, that -Crawford would fall an easy victim to his old partner’s attack; but the -detective had already pulled Stone’s fangs. - -He waited perhaps five minutes, standing behind the bathroom door, -which he had left slightly ajar. At the end of that time the opposite -door, that leading from Stone’s room, quietly opened. As it did so, -it revealed the fact that Stone had put out his own lights. Nick -stiffened, for he knew that the crucial moment was close at hand. - -He had taken the risk of entering Crawford’s room and secreting -himself there partly to witness whatever might happen, and partly -because he was by no means sure of James Stone. One never can be -certain of what a madman may do. Stone had been supplied with the -instruments necessary for the commission of a highly scientific -crime, but when the time came, he might discard them, owing to his -unfamiliarity with such things, and resort to some more commonplace -weapon. In fact, if he made a slip, or if Crawford awoke prematurely -and showed fight, it was almost certain that Stone would try to make -us of some more familiar way of getting rid of enemies—or supposed -enemies. Consequently Nick wanted to be on hand to give instant aid, -if necessary. He did not consider that his duty to Crawford had been -discharged when he had substituted water for the mysterious and deadly -charge which Doctor Follansbee had originally placed in the hypodermic -syringe. - -Stone came in noiselessly, and the subdued light from the corridor -which shone in through the transom accentuated his lean, angular form -as it entered. The door was closed carefully behind him, and Nick could -hear his suppressed, nervous breathing as he crossed toward the bed. - -The intruder paused there within a yard or so of the outstretched form -of Crawford, and Nick braced himself in anticipation of a possible -emergency. He saw Stone looking toward the bed with his head thrust -slightly forward, as if he were listening to Crawford’s breathing. -Seemingly the man soon became satisfied that all was well, for he took -from his pocket a couple of small objects which the detective guessed -to be the little vial and sponge. - -Stone’s movements indicated that he was emptying the contents of the -vial into the sponge. As he did so, he took a quick step forward and -bent over the bed. Simultaneously there was a stir, and the springs of -the bed creaked. - -Nick peered out and saw the head and shoulders of Crawford rising from -the pillow. The bearded face of the kindly mine owner peered for a -moment through the gloom at the vague form bending over him, then a -single word came to the detective’s ears: - -“Jimmy!” - -A savage cry sounded, and, with a last bound, the demented partner had -thrown himself upon Crawford. Nick heard a choking gasp, and for a -moment was tempted to leap from his hiding place and hurl himself upon -the would-be murderer. It was only with a supreme effort of will that -he kept himself in hand and mutely watched the struggle. - -Stone had all the strength of his madness behind him, and with -remorseless force he pressed Crawford back upon the pillow. Then, with -a quick swoop, he pressed the sponge over the bearded lips and nostrils -of the man who loved him better than a brother. There was a convulsive -movement of the prone figure, and a long-drawn sigh, then Crawford’s -arms fell back from their hold on Stone’s shoulders and he relapsed -into unconsciousness. - -Stone’s heavy breathing was very audible to the detective as the latter -stood watching the dramatic scene. He saw the miner take the little -leather case from his pocket and remove the hypodermic syringe. After -that, leaning over his unconscious partner, the madman plunged the -needle into Crawford’s forearm, close to the elbow, and the plunger was -pressed home with one quick movement of the powerful thumb. - -As soon as the deed was done, Stone gave an exultant exclamation, and, -still leaning over the bed, shook his clenched fists at the motionless -body. - -“It was either you or me, curse you!” he said, as if growling, his -face working savagely. “And I have won. You’re as good as done for, -and unless you stop playing with me as a cat plays with a mouse, you -won’t have a chance to do what you want to do with me. I’ve taken care -of myself so far, and I guess I can keep on doing it until you’re too -sick to try any tricks on me. Follansbee says you’ll be dead before the -twenty-seventh, and he ought to know. Anyway, he won’t get his money if -you’re not.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - - THE MADMAN’S GET-AWAY. - - -The words were spoken aloud in a thick, jerky voice, and it seemed -to be all that Stone could do to keep his clutching hands from his -senseless partner’s throat. Doubtless he remembered the rascally -doctor’s promise that Crawford would know nothing about it all when he -woke in the morning, and that was probably what stayed his hand. - -Had the detective been in any doubt of the man’s condition, it would -have vanished then, and Stone’s irresponsibility was even more evident -when he turned away from the bed, and the light from the transom struck -his face. It was wrinkled into a mask of maniacal triumph, and the -glare in the eyes was more like that of a wild animal than of a human -being. - -Nick held his breath for a moment. Stone was heading directly toward -the bathroom, apparently with the idea of washing his hands after -handling the drugged sponge. If he should enter there, discovery would -be inevitable, and the detective would have a crazy man to handle—a -task which even he did not care to contemplate. - -Presently, however, when Stone was only four or five feet from the -door of the bathroom, he suddenly wheeled about and recrossed to his -own door, through which he disappeared. His shrewdness had evidently -suggested the desirability of performing the necessary ablutions in his -own room. - -Nick relaxed when the danger was removed, and after waiting for perhaps -five minutes following the closing of the connecting door, he stole -from his hiding place and sought Crawford’s bed. No odor of the drug -had reached his nostrils in the bathroom. It was evidently so volatile -that it had been quickly dissipated in the air. The detective knew -its nature, however, for he had sniffed at it in Stone’s room. He was -aware that it was all that Doctor Follansbee had claimed for it, and -that, under ordinary circumstances, it would work no permanent harm; -but what he did not know was its effect on Winthrop Crawford. Crawford -seemed to possess a rugged constitution, but his heart, for instance, -might be weak. Nick wished to make sure that his new friend’s condition -was normal before he left the room. - -His examination, for which he did not need a light, was satisfactory. -The drug had plunged Crawford into a profound sleep, but there was -nothing to indicate that the effects would not pass away in good time, -leaving him in his usual health. As for the injection, that meant -nothing, so long as the serum which Follansbee had provided was now -reposing in Nick’s fountain pen. To be sure, the hasty cleaning of -the syringe might not have removed all traces of the serum, but the -detective had done his best, and knew enough of such things to feel -sure that the consequences, if any, would not be serious. Crawford -might possibly have a slight touch of the disease, whatever it was, but -it was not likely to amount to much. - -The detective straightened up a little, listened, then produced his -pocket flash light and turned the rays on Crawford. It was an easy -matter to find where the puncture had been made, for a tiny globule of -blood stood out on the tanned skin of the man’s arm. Nick stooped lower -and took a bit of the flesh between thumb and finger. He succeeded in -squeezing out a few drops of water and blood, which he carefully wiped -away. - -“You’re safe enough, my friend,” he thought. “Anyhow, I’ve done my best -for you, and to-morrow will decide whether you’re still foolish enough -to refuse to guard yourself against the attacks of that madman, or -whether you’re willing to listen to reason and let me put him where he -belongs.” - -Having done all he could for the time being, he straightened up and -stood in thought for perhaps half a minute, uncertain of his next move. -He had heard enough of the conversation between Stone and Follansbee to -know that the latter had planned for the miner to join him after the -diabolical injection had been made. That meant that Stone would soon -venture forth again, doubtless by way of the fire escape, and there was -no knowing what moment he might appear at his window. Consequently it -would be extra hazardous for Nick to venture out on the platform and -try to pass Stone’s room. - -He decided to wait for a few minutes, and to return to the bathroom -to do so, for Stone might take it into his head to come back into -Crawford’s room for some reason. - -In a short time he had the satisfaction of hearing Stone’s window go -up and then down again after the man had passed through. His alert -ears caught a few slight sounds on the fire escape, which told him -that the miner had begun to descend. He had planned to follow, if -possible, owing to his realization that Follansbee might be playing a -double game, and was quite capable of making away with Stone as well -as Crawford. He had brought along his shoes for that purpose, having -suspended them about his neck by means of the laces, and during the -last few minutes he had put them on in the bathroom. - -It occurred to him now, though, that the difficulties were even -greater than he had looked for. It would not do for the floor clerk -to see him emerging from Crawford’s room, for she would naturally -become suspicious at once, and, not knowing his identity, would cause -a delay before an explanation could be made. On the other hand, he -could not follow down the fire escape until Stone had disappeared from -the courtyard, and by the time he could reach the near-by bank, where -Follansbee was to be waiting, the car would doubtless have carried the -two conspirators off. - -Moreover, he had known all the time that there was small chance of -following the machine at that hour. He certainly could not do so on -foot, and even if he had arranged for another car to be in waiting in -the neighborhood, there would be considerable delay in reaching it. On -the whole, therefore, he reluctantly decided to return to his own room, -and call it a night’s work. It was not that he trusted Follansbee any -more, but merely that he thought a few hours’ delay would not entail -serious consequences to James Stone. - -He did not dream, however, of what was in store for the ex-miner. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - - THE AWAKENING OF REMORSE. - - -“Have you done the trick?” - -Stone dropped back on the soft cushions of the car and passed his -hands across his eyes. It had been a hasty and disordered flight that -had followed his act, and had carried him down the fire escape. On -reaching the lower platform, he had crawled through the ladder opening -and let himself down and dropped to the pavement of the court. Then he -had sped across the courtyard and out into the side street. There he -had moderated his pace for fear of attracting attention, if a passing -policeman should see him. He had still hurried along, however, blindly -and fearfully, until he saw the waiting machine. - -Follansbee’s head had been thrust out of the closed car for a moment -as Stone approached, then the door had been opened, and the miner had -jumped in. - -“Where is the syringe?” Follansbee asked. - -Stone mechanically thrust his hand into his pocket and withdrew the -leather case. There was a look of satisfaction in the physician’s eyes -as he took charge of his property again. - -“I was worried for fear you might have left that behind,” he said, in -his thin voice. “The most careful of us make slips now and then.” - -“I made no slip,” came the answer, in a strange voice. “If that thing -was charged with death as you told me, then Winthrop Crawford is -doomed.” - -“You need have no fear of the potency of my preparation,” Follansbee -assured him. “From to-night you may look upon yourself as virtually a -millionaire.” - -“I don’t care so much about that,” the miner began. “It was——” - -His tall, raw-boned form stiffened suddenly, and he drew in a deep, -noisy breath—just such a breath as a man might take when awakened from -a long sleep. He turned swiftly upon the astonished Follansbee, and -the latter involuntarily shrank away. He feared that Stone might do -him some harm, and knew that he was far from a physical match for the -hard-muscled miner. - -Nothing was further from Stone’s thoughts, though. His unexpected move -had another meaning. “What was it that made me want to kill my best -friend?” he demanded, in tragic bewilderment. - -Quick as a flash the truth burst on Doctor Follansbee. The strain and -intense excitement under which Stone had labored must have wrought a -startling but by no means unprecedented change in his mental condition. -He was indeed a sleeper awakened. It had probably been some subtle -excitement that had unhinged his brain in the first place, and now, -thanks to the law of balance, a more powerful excitement had come near -to bringing him back to his senses. - -“What was it? What was it?” the poor fellow gasped, leaning forward and -peering at Follansbee through the half gloom of the limousine. “Why -did I want to kill Win? By heavens, man, speak—speak! There must have -been a reason!” - -The strained voice rose almost to a shriek, and Follansbee began to -fear that his companion might attract attention and call down a demand -to stop the car for an investigation. Although it was past three -o’clock in the morning, the streets were not quite empty, for New -York’s streets rarely are. They flashed past a brightly lighted corner, -and the doctor saw the uniformed figure of a policeman pacing slowly -along and looking in their direction. At any moment Stone might burst -out into a storm of self-reproach, and there was no telling to what -lengths his remorse might carry him. It was a situation which required -a master hand, and the way in which Follansbee tackled it was typical -of his shrewdness and lack of conscience. - -Instead of attempting to explain to Stone, he leaned forward suddenly -and gave the miner a hearty clap on the shoulder. - -“At last!” he ejaculated, in tones of the greatest relief and -satisfaction. “Thank Heaven you’ve come back to your senses.” - -He was playing a deep game now, and the way in which the haggard eyes -of his companion turned upon him might have touched his heart had -anything been there to touch. - -“Come back to my senses!” Stone repeated uncomprehendingly. “What do -you mean by that?” - -Then a great hope flamed up in his eyes. Had Follansbee been merely -humoring him, seeming to fall in with his madness? Had the hypodermic -been harmless after all? - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII. - - AN ASTOUNDING STATEMENT. - - -James Stone’s questions, both uttered and unexpressed, were not to be -answered just then. A sudden swerve of the car made Follansbee look out -of the window. The machine had turned into Amsterdam Avenue, and a few -moments later had come to a halt before the physician’s door. - -A ragged, shuffling figure, that of a hollow-cheeked young man, was -passing at the moment. The young fellow, apparently a homeless vagrant, -or worse, paused as the car drew up to the curb, then darted forward -and opened the door. - -Doctor Follansbee muttered something under his breath, seemingly -derogatory to the volunteer, and he and Stone crossed the pavement and -vanished through the doorway while the car went on up the street. - -Apparently disgusted by his bad luck in not obtaining a tip, the -disreputable-looking young man crossed the street and disappeared into -the shadows of an areaway, which primitive lodging place seemed to be -his choice for the night. - -Meanwhile, Follansbee had unlocked the door with his latchkey, switched -on the lights in the hall and office, and motioned his companion to -enter the latter. The lights shone brightly on the former mine owner’s -face, and the doctor was almost startled by the change in it. The -hard, sour, brooding expression that had so characterized the tanned -features had vanished now, and in its place was a very sane anxiety, -coupled with shocked recollection. James Stone was plainly suffering in -a way that few men are called upon to suffer. “Now,” he said at once, -refusing the proffered chair, “tell me what you mean.” - -Even his voice had subtly changed. It was still deep, but the -hoarseness had gone from it, and it had taken on a little of the -mellowness of Crawford’s own. - -Follansbee advanced to his desk and dropped into a chair. - -“Won’t you sit down?” he repeated, with perfect self-possession. “It’s -a rather long story.” - -“No, no! I would rather stand,” Stone replied, pressing his hand to his -brow. “I feel dazed and sick; I feel as though a great gap had come -into my life, and that I was only returning to the world again after a -long absence.” - -He stared down at Follansbee with anguished eyes. - -“Everything—or nearly everything—is misty,” he went on, “but I know -that I came to you on the recommendation of young Doctor Floyd down in -Brazil. He sent me to you to get help for my trouble, but—but somehow, -instead of that, we hatched a devilish plot to murder the best friend -I have in the world, Win Crawford. In Heaven’s name what’s to be done? -What did you mean just now when you said I had come to my senses? I -have come to them, I hope, but if it’s too late to help Win, I would -have been far better off as I was. If he dies now, I shall kill myself. -I could not bear to live knowing that I had murdered him. You don’t -know—nobody knows—how much he has meant to me. Tell me, man, what you -meant? Is there—is there any hope?” - -His terrible anxiety was pathetic to see, but it seemed to have no -effect on Stephen Follansbee. The latter looked on as if he were -witnessing a play, and as soon as Stone paused, his cold voice cut like -a knife through the silence. - -“For a considerable period, Mr. Stone—several months, I understand—your -mind has been seriously affected in certain respects,” he said. -“Perhaps I should say that it has been affected in one particular -respect. A few days ago you came to me and seemed to jump to the -conclusion that I was the archfiend himself, or something little -better. If you had been sane, I would have thrown you out of the house -for your insults. As it was, I listened to you and led you on until you -made an extraordinary proposal; nothing less than that I should help -you to put your partner out of the way. Frankly I came very near to -using the telephone then and there, and having you placed in custody.” - -“I wish now you had!” Stone burst out. - -He was laboring under the greatest excitement and remorse, but he was -obviously as sane as he had ever been in his life. - -“I did not do so, however,” Follansbee went on, ignoring the -interruption, “for I saw that your trouble was monomania; serious -enough in itself, but leaving you sane in all other ways. I diagnosed -it also as a mere temporary derangement, and I did not feel justified -in submitting you to the ordeal of publicity, or of committing you to -an asylum.” - -“Go on! Be quick about it! What did you do? For Heaven’s sake tell me -the whole thing at once!” - -Follansbee slipped his hand into the inside breast pocket of his coat -and drew out a little leather case. - -“I simply played a professional trick on you, Mr. Stone,” he declared -quietly. “It’s true that the drug in the vial was a powerful narcotic, -and at this very moment I have no doubt that your friend is still under -the influence of it.” - -As he spoke, he opened the case and took out the syringe. - -“But this,” he went on, tapping the instrument, “was charged with -nothing more harmful than pure glycerine.” - -“Is that true?” the miner demanded, striding forward and towering above -the diminutive specialist. “If it is——” - -“I can easily convince you that it is,” Follansbee assured him. - -He unfastened his cuff link and pulled up his cuff, revealing a lean, -yellow forearm. - -“Watch!” he said. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII. - - “YOU’VE SAVED ME FROM MYSELF!” - - -“You probably did not inject all of it,” Follansbee continued, as he -withdrew the plunger of the syringe. - -He thrust the needle beneath the skin of his arm and pressed the -plunger almost home; then, as he withdrew the syringe, a tiny drop -of clear liquid appeared on the end of the needle, and a further -compression of the plunger caused the globule to drop on his arm under -the puncture. - -“There, that ought to convince any man, sane or insane,” the cool voice -resumed. “Had this been a deadly culture, you will admit that I would -hardly be so mad as to run even the slightest risk of being infected by -it.” - -His manner and act carried conviction to the perturbed brain of James -Stone. - -There was a chair close to the desk, and the tall figure collapsed into -it. Stone stretched his arms out across the desk, dropped his head -between them, and gave vent to a hoarse sob. - -“Thank Heaven! Oh, thank Heaven!” he said, in a choked voice. “I’ve -been in torment these last few months, but it was all for the best. -You’ve saved me from myself, doctor, and I don’t know how to thank you!” - -The hawklike face above him creased with satisfaction, and the thin -lips curled back from the sharp teeth. - -“I ask no thanks,” was the reply. “And allow me to remind you that I -hold your check for a substantial sum. That is the best thanks to a -man who needs all the money he can lay hands on in order to carry on -costly experiments. I trust you will not regret having given it to me, -although you did so under a misapprehension. You’ll remember, however, -that I did not promise, at that time, to do away with Crawford. I -merely promised that he would not trouble you after the twenty-seventh, -and I have kept to the agreement. He will not trouble you, because all -your differences will have vanished by that time—have vanished now, in -fact. Later, of course, I felt compelled to fall in more nearly with -your misguided desires, but that was nothing more than professional -tact. If you had called yourself the King of Mexico, I would have -humored you in that belief, and bowed down to you.” - -“I understand, of course—now,” Stone replied gravely. “As for your fee, -it’s by no means too much for what you’ve done. Your skill has given me -back my sanity and my old friend. Say nothing more about it.” - -Follansbee was not looking to drop the subject, however. - -“I won’t after this,” he said, “but that reminds me that the check is -for a rather large amount, and it has occurred to me that your bank -may make some difficulty about cashing it. I won’t present it before -Monday, the twenty-seventh, of course, but if you would write a note -to the bank now, it might help matters.” - -Gratitude and relief made James Stone less cautious than he might -otherwise have been. “Certainly,” he said, without hesitation. “I’ll be -glad to do so.” - -“Thank you. I think I have some of your hotel stationery here in my -pocket. Yes, here it is. I remember picking some up in the writing -room the other day when I was waiting for you, and wished to make some -notes.” - -He produced several sheets of paper engraved with the name of the Hotel -Windermere, and, selecting one of them, spread it out on the desk -before his visitor. - -His explanation of the possession of the paper was sufficiently -plausible, and Stone was not in a critical mood. The result was that -the miner scrawled a brief letter of introduction for Follansbee, -accompanied with a request that the check be cashed without question. - -If he had only ventured to look up as he signed the note, he might have -been warned that all was not well, but he did not think of doing so. -Follansbee rose to his feet, and, taking the letter, slipped it into a -plain envelope. Evidently he had not thought best to provide a hotel -envelope in addition to the paper, for that thorough preparation might -have seemed a little suspicious. - -“And now,” he said, “before you go, I’d like to offer you a little -refreshment, if I may. I have some very good brandy, and a bit of it -would tone you up. You need it after all you’ve gone through to-night. -After that you can go back to the hotel.” - -He did not know that Nick’s ruse in regard to the bell had spoiled -Stone’s alibi. Had he been aware of the fact, it would have given him -much food for thought, but it would not have affected his words to -Stone, for they were spoken merely for effect. - -“And in the morning,” he added, “you will find Mr. Crawford as well as -he ever was in his life.” - -“You are sure of that?” Stone asked eagerly. “The drug can’t possibly -do him any permanent harm?” - -“On my professional honor, it cannot,” Follansbee assured him. “He -won’t know anything about it when you see him again.” - -He had reached the sideboard now, and he picked up two glasses which -stood beside the decanter containing the brandy. Stone was by his side -as he poured the liquor, but the ex-miner did not see a suspicious -move. Perhaps it was because he was not in a suspicious mood. At any -rate, there can be no doubt that it was something more than brandy that -he drank. - -Little more than five minutes later Doctor Follansbee accompanied Stone -to the door, shook hands with him, and watched him depart. Stone had -suggested the use of the doctor’s phone to call a taxi, but Follansbee -had advised against it. - -“If you’re wise, you’ll walk; at least, a part of the way,” he had -said. “You’ve been through a great deal to-night, and the exercise will -be good for you. If you can get physically tired, so much the better. -You’ll be more apt to sleep when you reach your room.” - -Stone had taken the advice, and started off on foot. After lingering at -the door for a few minutes, the specialist closed it and disappeared -into the house. Very shortly the lights went out, and he reappeared on -the steps. - -Seemingly, he, too, was going for a stroll, although it was nearly four -o’clock in the morning by that time. - -Curiously enough, Follansbee headed in the same direction which Stone -had taken, and, more curious still, a slouching figure emerged from -an areaway, crossed the street, and flitted along behind the head -physician of St. Swithin’s. - -The night had been full enough, but it looked as if other things were -still to be crammed into it. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX. - - A STRANGE DEVELOPMENT. - - -Doctor Stephen Follansbee walked along at a slow pace, but his -movements were not characteristic. His hands were not folded behind -him, and his head was erect, as if he were peering into the distance in -front, instead of casting his eyes on the ground as he usually did. - -He had walked down Amsterdam Avenue for several blocks when a faint -monosyllable issued from his lips. - -“Ah!” he murmured, and sightly quickened his pace. - -The young man who was keeping him in sight from the other side of the -street—and who was evidently the same one who had opened the limousine -door some time earlier—could not hear the ejaculation, but he noted the -quickened steps and glanced ahead in search of a reason. - -Half a block beyond was a little group of men gathered on the sidewalk. -When Follansbee approached, he found that it consisted of a couple of -policemen, and the driver of a taxicab was bending over the figure of a -tall man lying prone on the sidewalk. The physician had no need to do -more than glance at the figure, for, as the policeman lifted the body, -the rigid features of James Stone were revealed. - -Clearing his throat, Follansbee stepped forward. “What’s the trouble, -officer?” he asked. “Has there been any accident?” - -One of the men in uniform turned and looked at Follansbee in a -questioning way. - -“I’m Doctor Stephen Follansbee, of St. Swithin’s Hospital,” the -specialist went on. “Here’s my card. If I can help you in any way, I -shall be only too glad to do so.” - -The patrolman took the card and glanced at it in the light of a near-by -street lamp. When he saw the name and the string of letters after it, -his attitude instantly changed to one of great respect. It was a name -to conjure with in New York City. - -“It’s lucky you happened along, Doctor Follansbee,” the spokesman -declared, making way for the newcomer, who stooped and seemed to make -an examination. - -“It seems to be a paralytic stroke,” Follansbee announced presently. -“You had better call an ambulance and have him taken somewhere at -once.” Then, as if struck by a new idea, he went on: “Come to think of -it, you might as well send him to St. Swithin’s. I was going there in -a few minutes, anyway. There’s a special case that needs watching. Why -not put him in this taxi?” - -The cool cunning of the man had its reward. - -Under ordinary circumstances, the unfortunate Stone would have -been taken to another hospital—one with an emergency ward—but at -Follansbee’s suggestion the inert, heavily-breathing form was lifted -into the machine, and one of the policeman took his place beside it. -Up Amsterdam Avenue, toward the big hospital over which Follansbee -presided, the cab made its way. Follansbee himself had climbed into the -seat beside the driver, and the ragged young man who had been following -him looked uncertainly after the dwindling vehicle. - -From that the vagrant’s gaze shifted to the remaining policeman, who -was eying him suspiciously. - -“This is no place for me,” thought the young fellow; and he made off -hurriedly along the side street before the officer had time to accost -him. - -It was Patsy Garvan, Nick Carter’s second assistant, and he was doing -an almost unheard-of thing. In other words, he was there without his -chief’s knowledge or sanction. It was not as much of a breach of -discipline as it might have been, however, for he was under Chick’s -orders. Chick had something of a grudge against Doctor Follansbee, -and had not been altogether satisfied with his chief’s assurance that -he should have a hand in the case later on. It was impossible for him -to do anything himself, because he was in charge at the detective’s -headquarters in the absence of Carter; but he had done the next best -thing. He had found no trouble in inducing Patsy Garvan to shadow -Follansbee’s house while Nick Carter was watching James Stone at the -hotel. - -“Follansbee is a slippery customer,” Chick had confided to the other, -“and it strikes me that he needs a little attention. He’s capable of -almost anything, and I’d like nothing better than to bring him up short -without the chief’s help. As that’s out of the question, though, I’m -going to turn him over to you. Don’t let the chief know what you’re up -to, if you can help it. I’d like to surprise him with some information -that would be news to him; and when it comes to a showdown, I’ll take -all the responsibility.” - -Patsy had accepted the added task with his usual promptness, and had -been leading a sort of double life for several days. During the hours -of daylight he went about his regular duties as usual. As it happened, -Nick did not give him much night work; consequently he was able to -shadow Follansbee’s house night after night. He had enjoyed little -sleep, but he did not seem to mind that. He, too, was convinced that -Follansbee was an unusually dangerous man, and should be carefully -“covered,” and he was more than willing to do the job. - -Now his feelings were decidedly mixed. He had ventured to mingle with -the group about the prostrate man, and had discovered his identity. -It was unquestionably James Stone, the man he had seen entering -Follansbee’s house a short time before, and had subsequently left it. - -Patsy had seen Follansbee watching Stone as the latter started down -the street, and he knew that the doctor had deliberately waited a few -minutes, and then followed. This meant that the scoundrelly head of -St. Swithin’s had looked for Stone to succumb on the street, and had -planned to have it appear as if by accident. - -“This is a queer go,” thought Patsy as he hurried away from the -neighborhood of the curious policeman. “Follansbee must have double -crossed Stone just as Patsy feared he might, and it was pretty foxy of -him to have arranged that the man should take a tumble on the street -several blocks from his house. - -“I’ve stumbled over a discovery sure enough, and now it’s up to me to -report to Chick and let him tell the chief, as I suppose he will. It -might have been well for me to trail that taxi in order to make sure of -its destination, but I don’t believe there can be any doubt about that. -Follansbee suggested St. Swithin’s, and the policeman who went along -would want to know the why and wherefore of any change in plan. It -seems safe enough to assume, therefore, that the Buzzard is taking his -latest victim to St. Swithin’s, and that’s enough for the present. I’d -like to know what the mischief he’s up to, and what he expects to do -with him at the hospital, but that will have to keep. Thank Fortune I -was on hand to-night. I’ll bet the chief didn’t dream that this little -affair was going to be pulled off; if not, he certainly ought to thank -Chick and me for giving him the tip.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXX. - - AN UNLUCKY MORNING. - - -Patsy Garvan had reason to congratulate himself on the outcome of his -night’s vigil, but it is to be feared that he did not follow it up -in the best way. It was nearly half past four in the morning when he -reached Nick’s headquarters, and he unwisely decided that there was no -use of rousing Chick at that hour. Breakfast was only about three hours -off, and he reasoned that the delay could make little difference. - -Whatever Follansbee had done to Stone was an accomplished fact, and it -was not likely that any more serious steps would be taken that night. -Besides, St. Swithin’s Hospital was not an easy place to commit a -crime, even though the criminal was at the head of it. If Follansbee -meant to murder Stone, and had drugged him to get him into his power, -the murder would probably be a slow and subtle one. In that case a few -hours were unimportant. - -Consequently Patsy made his way quietly to his own room without rousing -Chick or leaving any word for him. He removed his make-up, slipped out -of his ragged suit with a sigh of relief, and was asleep almost as -soon as he touched the bed. He fully expected to be up again by half -past seven at the latest, and counted on being called if he showed any -tendency to oversleep. He did not realize, however, that he had had -very little rest for several days, and that Nature would do her best to -make up the shortage as soon as she had the chance. Nor did it occur to -him that Chick, knowing that he had been doing double duty, might give -orders not to have him called if he did not appear for breakfast on -time. - -The result was that when he awakened, it was to discover that the sun -was pouring into his room with a warmth and intensity which proved -that the day was several hours old. He rose up in bed with a start and -looked at the little clock on the table. - -“Half past eleven!” he ejaculated, in amazement. “Great Scott! I -wouldn’t have had this happen for the world. Why the dickens didn’t I -make a report of some sort last night before turning in? I might have -known that I would sleep like a log, and that Chick might see I wasn’t -disturbed.” - -Without stopping to dress, he stuck his head out of the door and -shouted Chick’s name at the top of his voice. The housekeeper heard -him, and came bustling down the hall. - -“Mr. Chick was called out of town this morning,” she said, greatly to -the young assistant’s chagrin. - -“Where to?” he demanded. - -“To Providence.” - -“To a hotel?” - -“I’ll bring you the note he left for Mr. Carter.” - -She hurried into the celebrated detective’s study and presently -returned with a slip of paper. On it the chief assistant had explained -his errand, and said that he hoped to be back by night, but would be -running about most of the day. He added that he would try to keep in -touch with the Sound Hotel, and could be reached there if he was wanted. - -The information did not sound promising, but Patsy was obliged to -make the best of it. Putting on a bath robe and slippers, he ran to -the chief’s study and attempted to reach Chick on the long-distance -telephone. As he had anticipated, he had not yet arrived at the hotel. -He left a message asking that he be called as soon as possible; but -after he had done so, he decided that he could not wait for that. There -were too many uncertainties, and the delay might prove serious. - -“Confound it, this is a pretty mess,” he told himself. “I can’t be sure -about Chick any more. I’ll have to ’fess up to the chief—if I can get -hold of him.” - -The housekeeper was once more summoned, and from her Patsy learned that -the chief had not been there either the night before or that morning. - -“He’s still at the Windermere, I suppose,” the housekeeper suggested. - -“Let’s hope he is,” Patsy answered, and returned to the phone. He gave -the number of the Hotel Windermere, and was promptly connected. - -“Is Mr. Mortimer—Mr. Thomas Mortimer—there?” he inquired anxiously. - -“One moment, please.” - -He kept the receiver to his ear for a few seconds, and then the clerk’s -voice sounded again. - -“Hello?” it said. “Mr. Mortimer isn’t in at present. He went out with a -friend immediately after breakfast. He’s been gone about two hours now.” - -Patsy could have kicked himself at that moment. “Have you any idea -where he has gone?” - -“No, I haven’t. He went out with another of our guests, though, and——” - -The assistant caught eagerly at that clew. “Was it Mr. Crawford?” he -asked. - -“Yes, that’s the gentleman. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. Mr. -Mortimer doesn’t seem to have left any word. Will you leave a message -for him?” - -Patsy thought for a moment. “No, I believe not,” he said, after a -pause. “I’ll telephone later on, or drop around there.” - -He replaced the receiver and leaned back disappointedly. “Worse and -more of it,” he mused. “First, Chick slips out of my reach, and now -the chief is off somewhere. This is certainly my unlucky morning. Of -course, Chick didn’t suppose I had anything of importance to report, -and that’s why he let me sleep. Now time is flying. Follansbee has got -Stone in his clutches for some beastly purpose of his own, and I don’t -know what to do about it. It’s up to the chief to decide that, and I -can’t reach him.” - -He had not dictated a message for Carter because the matter was too -confidential for that; besides, he expected to present himself at the -hotel before long and wait for his chief, if the latter had not yet -returned. - -First, though, he must dress and snatch a bite of breakfast. His -dressing and shaving occupied only about twenty minutes in all—with a -cold plunge thrown in—and when he reached the dining room, he found the -housekeeper waiting for him. His coming seemed to be a signal, for she -vanished at once into the regions behind, but soon returned bearing a -tray. Patsy was a favorite of hers, and she was doing him the honor of -serving him in person. - -“Mr. Chick said to let you sleep,” she declared, nodding her gray head. -“Heaven only knows when you came in last night. I was awake until -twelve.” - -Patsy grinned. “You missed me by a minute or two,” he answered, as he -attacked his breakfast. - -His conscience was pricking him most uncomfortably, and although he -was hungry, he would have eaten little if he had had his own way. The -housekeeper stood over him, however, and saw to it that he made a good -meal. The breakfast consumed fifteen minutes of his precious time, and -even then the elderly lady sniffed as she picked up the tray. - -“You oughtn’t to bolt your food like that, Mr. Garvan,” she complained. -“You’ll be a martyr to indigestion before you’re forty. Don’t you think -you might bite a thing twice before it goes down?” - -She had gained her main point, however, and that was something. She -returned to the kitchen, and Patsy hurried out of the house. - -He had ordered one of Nick’s runabouts brought round, and in it he -drove to the hotel. - -“Mr. Mortimer” had not yet returned. - -He said something under his breath, and decided not to wait. He was -too uneasy by that time, for James Stone’s fate was troubling him. -Accordingly he left word with the clerk for “Mr. Mortimer” to remain in -when he came, if possible, until he could be communicated with. That -done, he jumped into the runabout again and headed northward in the -direction of St. Swithin’s Hospital. - -It was well that he did so, for his luck was to change. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI. - - NICK HAS A HUNCH. - - -“You, Carter!” - -Winthrop Crawford had raised himself in bed, and, leaning on one arm, -was staring wonderingly at the figure of the detective seated in a -chair close to the head of the bed. - -Nick had removed his false mustache, and although he was still dressed -in one of the suits he had worn as “Thomas Mortimer,” Crawford -recognized the clean-cut features. - -“It is rather an early hour to make a call, Crawford,” the detective -said, with an apologetic smile. - -“Oh, I’m always glad to see you,” was the answer. “Hanged if I -understand how you got in, though. Wasn’t my door locked?” - -“I believe it was,” was the calm response. - -“Then——” - -“Oh, you ought to know that locked doors don’t trouble me, Crawford,” -Nick broke in, his smile broadening. “I sometimes tickle their keyholes -a little, and sometimes pass around them.” - -He was delighted and greatly relieved to have Crawford awake and -evidently in such good trim. - -“And which method did you employ in this instance?” inquired the man on -the bed, with a twinkle in his eyes. - -“I’ll tell you all about that when I come to it. It’s too long to be -dismissed in a sentence. As a matter of fact, this is by no means my -first visit to your room since you went to bed last night, and I’ve -spent considerable time here.” - -Crawford looked bewildered. “What on earth for?” he demanded; then, as -he saw Nick eying him queerly, he added: “Why are you looking at me -like that? What has happened?” - -Instead of answering, the detective put another question. “How do you -feel this morning?” he queried. - -Crawford searched Nick’s face as though he were half afraid that his -visitor had lost his senses. - -“I feel like a fighting cock,” he said promptly. “Why should I feel any -other way?” - -Nick’s face had grown stern. “Because some five or six hours ago,” he -answered gravely, “you were forcibly drugged, and a murderous attack -was made upon you.” - -The blank look of amazement that came into Crawford’s eyes increased as -memory returned to him. He sat up in bed and stared at the detective. - -“Good heavens, I remember now!” he broke out. “I—I thought at first, -though, that it was only a nightmare.” He raised his brown, muscular -hand and passed it across his brow. “Yes,” he muttered slowly, “I -remember—I saw Jim Stone—I saw the wet sponge—his terrible face!” - -His voice died away into a frail whisper, whereupon Nick came up closer -to the bed and laid a kindly hand on the man’s shoulder. - -“Stone drugged you,” he explained; “but that was not the worst he tried -to do. The drug was only administered so that you might be kept quiet -during what was to follow. Look!” - -With a quick movement he pulled back Crawford’s right sleeve, and then, -extending his finger, indicated a small speck of hardened blood on the -tanned forearm. - -“That mark covers a puncture made by the hypodermic syringe,” the calm -voice went on, “and it was charged with the bacilli of some deadly -disease when it was first handed to Stone to operate with.” - -The mine owner listened rigidly. - -“Again?” he whispered hoarsely. “Jim has tried again?” - -“Yes, and he came very near accomplishing it this time,” the detective -answered. “Fortunately, however, I was in a position to take a hand. -Had I not done so, I’m afraid it would have been all up with you. -Neither you nor any one else would have known of what had happened, -and by the time you had begun to feel the effects of the injection you -would probably have been beyond hope or help.” - -He seated himself at the foot of the bed and quietly told the whole -story. Before it was concluded, the lined, russet face of the miner -had become sallow and beaded with perspiration. He leaned back on the -pillow, his hands clasped behind his head. - -“This is frightful; far more so than anything I dreamed of,” he said, -in an uncertain voice. “How can I reward you for what you’ve done?” - -The detective leaned forward and laid his hands on the covers over one -of the raised knees. - -“The only reward I ask for,” he said, “is to see you rouse yourself to -the true situation. If there was any doubt before, certainly none can -be present now. Your old partner is insane, and has fallen into the -hands of one of the most cunning, unscrupulous rascals at large to-day. -He was dangerous enough before when he only had the shrewdness of his -own misguided instincts to aid him, but now you’re up against something -much worse. You have to deal not only with a homicidal lunatic, but -through him with a scientific criminal of the most dangerous sort. The -combination is an extraordinary one, and has possibilities for evil -that stagger the imagination.” - -“Do you really believe that—about this doctor, I mean?” - -“I’m sure of it. Long before I ever saw you I knew he was a scamp. -That’s why I took a room here at the Windermere when I found that -Stone was consorting with him.” - -“Is it possible? I don’t understand it. Isn’t he the one I told you -about—the one whom young Floyd recommended to Jimmy?” - -“I take it for granted that he is. He has a reputation second to none -in his line, and there’s no reason to suppose that your own friend was -not sincere when he made the condition that Stone should visit Doctor -Follansbee. If so, though, he has a great deal to learn about the -scoundrelly head of St. Swithin’s Hospital.” - -“But in what way is Follansbee a scoundrel? I should think he would -have altogether too much to lose by crime, no matter what his secret -tendencies were. What can he hope to gain by using poor Jim’s -irresponsible enmity to me? He is jeopardizing a great position.” - -“True, but he thinks he can get away with it,” remarked Nick. “They all -do, you know—until they wake up. As for his anticipated reward, you -may be sure it’s a very large one. Follansbee’s are always that, and -in such a case as this, he must have named a huge price. Stone is in a -position, of course, to pay a big sum, and his mental condition makes -him an easy victim. That may be the whole explanation, but I have a -feeling that it isn’t. Something tells me that Follansbee is after more -than the fee he has named.” - -“What are you driving at? How could he profit in any other way by my -death?” - -“That’s what I’d like to find out,” Nick told him; “and you ought to be -able to help me, if any one can.” - -“In what way?” - -“Well, have you made a will?” - -“Yes, I attended to that soon after we sold the Condor.” - -“And who is the chief beneficiary named in it, may I ask?” - -“Jim, of course. He’s practically the sole beneficiary, for no other -living person has ever been half so close to me as he.” - -“I shouldn’t wonder if that explained it,” the detective said -thoughtfully. - -The bearded mining man looked startled. “I’m afraid I don’t follow -you,” he said. “Tell me plainly what you have in your mind.” - -“Oh, I may be mistaken,” was the answer, “but it seems rather -significant. As I’ve said, your partner’s condition makes him an easy -mark. Does he by any chance know of the terms of your will?” - -“Certainly. I told him what I had done after it was drawn up.” - -“That’s a pity. I do not believe he has his eyes on the money. If -I read his mental state aright, he’s only actuated by groundless, -diseased hate and suspicion, and that so fills his distorted brain that -it doesn’t leave any room for money considerations. It’s very possible, -however, that Follansbee has pumped him, and learned the facts in -regard to your will. If so, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit to find that -the rascal was plotting in some way, either with or without Stone’s -knowledge, to appropriate most, if not all, of your fortune.” - -“By Jove! I wonder if you’re right!” - -“I feel that I am. It strikes me that Follansbee wouldn’t have taken -the risks involved in this thing, especially after having had one -brush with me, unless there had been a huge reward in prospect. Half -a million or so would tempt almost any man who had any criminal -tendencies, you know.” - -He paused, gazed into vacancy, and then added slowly: “To tell the -truth, I’m not convinced that he would be content with your share of -the proceeds from the sale of the mine. When the covetousness of a man -like that once gets to working, there’s no telling to what length it -may go. I shouldn’t wonder if he aspired to the possession of Stone’s -share as well as yours.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII. - - “THE MAN WHO NEVER LETS GO.” - - -If Winthrop Crawford had been startled before, he was dumfounded now. - -“Great guns!” he ejaculated, rising up again and planting his hands -on his knees. “Is it possible that you think the fellow is capable of -trying to kill Jimmy, too?” - -“He’s capable of anything, Crawford, if he thinks it is safe. Figure -it out for yourself. A demented man comes to him and gets into -his power. Follansbee tempts him to unburden himself and makes a -criminal proposition. He agrees directly or indirectly to lend the -aid of his science for the carrying out of his patient’s murderous -grudge in return for a substantial fee—twenty-five or fifty thousand -dollars, let us say. Incidentally he learns that his patient has been -named as the chief beneficiary in the will of the man whose doom is -sealed. He naturally itches to get hold of that fortune, or a large -part of it, and plots to do so. That’s the next step. But there are -others—inevitable ones. - -“To the best of his knowledge,” the detective went on, “his poor, -misguided tool carries out his instructions, and inoculates the other -man with the active principal of some dread tropical disease. So far, -so good—or so bad. What comes next? Why, the logical development, of -course. The unscrupulous doctor has schemed in one way or another to -benefit by the victim’s death, and now when that seems to be provided -for, he realizes how completely the man who has actually done the deed -is under his thumb. - -“His patient is practically a murderer, and, as such, liable to be -blackmailed to the limit. Also, the man’s brain is unbalanced, and -that makes it possible to work upon his fears in an unusual way. Why -should such a man have nearly a million in the bank? Can he enjoy it -to the full with the specter of remorse always at his elbow? Couldn’t -somebody else—the doctor, for instance—get a lot more out of that -money? The answer is a foregone conclusion; but there’s another -consideration as well. The doctor has an accomplice whom he cannot -trust because of that same mental instability. An insane man is proud -of his crimes, and likes to boast about them. He does so without any -sense of responsibility. But that would never do in this instance, for -such boasting would be almost certain to involve the doctor himself. -Therefore, to the latter’s mind, there would be an additional reason -for getting rid of his patient-accomplice. An additional fortune on -the one hand—as a result of a little more clever manipulation—and the -prevention of indiscreet blabbing on the other. Can you doubt the -outcome?” - -Crawford seized Nick’s arm excitedly. “You’re right!” he agreed. “Jimmy -isn’t safe for a moment while he’s in that fiend’s clutches. Where is -he now?” - -“I don’t know,” the detective admitted. “He went away with Follansbee -after giving you the injection. It was impossible for me to follow at -the time; besides, I was altogether too uneasy in mind about you. I -realized that your partner might be running into danger, but up to that -time it had not come to me so forcibly as it did since. Even if it had, -however, I should still have felt that my first duty was to you, and -that your safety was more important.” - -“No, no!” cried the miner, gripping Nick’s arm until it ached. “You’re -wrong there! My life is nothing to me compared with Jimmy’s safety. -Hasn’t he come back yet?” - -“I don’t think so. He hasn’t been in his room, at least.” - -“Then there isn’t a moment to lose. Good heavens, this is maddening! -Something terrible may have happened to him. We may be too late.” - -“Calm yourself,” the detective advised kindly. “I don’t think you need -fear any immediate danger. Follansbee uses subtle methods in order to -cover his tracks, and subtle methods take time.” - -“That may be, but I cannot have a moment’s peace until Jimmy is found -and wrested from that devil’s influence. I’ll dress at once, and——” - -“Go ahead,” Nick interrupted, getting up from the bed. “You mustn’t -think of taking a hand in this, though.” - -“But I must, man—for Jimmy’s sake. You admit yourself that you let him -go off with that rascal without lifting a hand.” - -“That’s true, but if you feel this way about it, I’ll consider him -first hereafter. You can’t take part in it in person, though. I must -insist upon your keeping out of it. Remember your position, Crawford. -You’re supposed to have been infected by that injection, and you’re -also supposed to know nothing about it. You can’t admit any knowledge -of the hypodermic without letting the cat out of the bag and putting -Follansbee on his guard against me.” - -“That’s true,” murmured the miner. “I was forgetting that. What can I -do, then?” - -“You’ll have to keep your hands off and trust me to manage the affair.” - -“I will, if you’ll promise not to have Jimmy locked up, if you can -possibly avoid it; and, above all, not to charge him with this latest -mad attempt against my life. As I told you before, nobody else is in -any danger from him. I’m sure of that, and I’m still willing to take -any risk in order to shield him, even after what happened last night. -If you can get him away from Follansbee, and put him in the care of -some conscientious physician—some one who won’t hustle him off to an -asylum the first thing—I shall be satisfied.” - -The detective smiled grimly. “That’s all very well,” he said; “but what -about Follansbee? Don’t you realize that if we let one of them off, -both will necessarily go free?” - -“I suppose so,” confessed Crawford. “I’d give anything to see that -scoundrel get all that’s coming to him, but you understand my position. -I can’t and won’t consent to sacrifice my old partner for the sake of -punishing his accomplice. That’s out of the question. Follansbee is as -dangerous as they make them, I’ll admit, but I’m afraid you’ll have to -find some way of getting around it—of reaching him without involving -Stone.” - -“You make my task a very hard one,” Nick told him gravely. “In the face -of such a condition, Follansbee seems to be beyond reach; but perhaps -he isn’t. We’ll have to wait and see. He may make a false step before -we get through, and if he does——” - -He did not finish the sentence, but the way in which he said the words -boded no good to Doctor Stephen Follansbee. Crawford had only to look -at the detective at that moment to realize why Nick Carter was called -“the man who never lets go.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII. - - WILL HE SCORE? - - -Winthrop Crawford was not satisfied, however. His anxiety was centered -about the welfare of his old friend, and he could not lose sight of -Stone’s continued absence from the Windermere. - -“But what are you going to do about Jimmy?” he asked eagerly. “Don’t -delay, man. Hunt him up as soon as possible, even if you have to defy -Follansbee, and mess things up generally in order to do so.” - -“Don’t worry about that, Crawford. I’ll look out for your friend. He -may have spent the night at Follansbee’s house. At any rate, the doctor -is a marked man, and if Stone has gone anywhere with his companion, it -ought to be a comparatively easy matter to trace them. You can’t stay -here, though, while I’m doing it.” - -“Why not?” - -“For various reasons. If you did so, and Stone came back, it would be -hard to act as if nothing had happened, and he would be watching you -with lynx eyes, waiting to see the effect of the injection. I haven’t -had time yet to analyze the original contents of the syringe, so that -I can’t say just how the stuff is supposed to act. In order to be on -the safe side, though, you’ll have to leave the Windermere for the time -being. If you’re out of their sight, they will not be able to keep tabs -on your condition, and we can easily enough make them believe that the -disease which they suppose has been introduced into your system is -following its normal course.” - -“But won’t Jimmy think it strange if I disappear after I’ve stuck to -him so long—stuck to him against his will?” - -“You can leave word for him. Write him a note and make some excuse that -will sound plausible.” - -“Yes, I could do that,” the miner agreed. “Where do you want me to go?” - -“I haven’t thought of any particular place as yet. That will -come later, but it is necessary that you should go away at once. -Furthermore, I want the people here in the hotel to see you and me go -out together.” - -Crawford soon became convinced that something of the sort was -desirable. He was very reluctant to leave the hotel before learning -anything definite concerning Stone’s whereabouts, but there seemed no -help for it, and Nick promised to let him know at frequent intervals -whenever anything new came up. By half-past nine o’clock Crawford and -the detective—the latter once more in the guise of Thomas Mortimer—were -eating their breakfast in the dining room. Making a pretense of eating, -however, would be the better way of describing the half-hearted way in -which the man from South America toyed with his food. - -Before ten o’clock they had both left the Windermere without giving any -one a hint as to their destination. So far as the detective knew, he -was the only one on the case; therefore it did not occur to him to keep -Chick advised of his comings and goings. - -Crawford took with him nothing in the way of baggage; therefore they -were obliged to purchase a suit case and enough clothing for a few -days. That done, they boarded a train at the Grand Central Terminal, -and about half an hour later alighted in one of the northern suburbs -within sight of Long Island Sound. - -A motor bus from the hotel met the train and took them to a huge -pile of masonry on a hill overlooking the water. It was one of the -best-known hotels in the neighborhood of New York, and much frequented -by those who wished to go away from the bustle of the great city for -a few days. There Crawford registered, at Nick’s suggestion, under an -assumed name. - -They had parted, and the detective was already descending the steps, -when the miner ran after him. - -“I’ve just thought of something that may help you to an understanding -of poor old Jim’s condition,” Crawford said breathlessly. “It has -occurred to me that he used to knock about the mine without his hat on -last year in all that broiling sun, and I know that many years ago, -when he was a boy, an axhead hit him on the skull. He was watching -somebody chop wood, and the head became loosened and flew off the -handle. Isn’t it possible that that injury affected him somehow, but -that the trouble didn’t manifest itself until recently?” - -Nick nodded. “There may be something in that,” he said. “The exposure -to the sun may have developed the latent disease, somewhat in the way -photographic film is developed. I’m glad you told me of that. It makes -it clearer than ever that your friend is a victim himself, and should -not be judged harshly.” - -“That’s it,” Crawford agreed eagerly. “He deserves all the mercy you -can show him, Carter. I’m positive that if he ever returns to his -senses he will be absolutely heartbroken to hear what he has tried -to do. I tell you, Jimmy Stone loves me like a brother, and he would -rather cut off his right hand than harm me. You must save him—save him -from Follansbee first of all, and then from himself. If you do, there’s -nothing you can’t ask of me.” - -Nick ignored the generous promise. “The affection of man for man is a -wonderful thing, Crawford,” he said quietly. “I’m glad to have known -you and had this proof of what loyalty means. I must go now, though. -Try to have patience and take things as quietly as you can. I’ll do my -best for Stone, and telephone you from time to time.” - -As he returned to the station, the detective felt sure that his promise -to Winthrop Crawford would greatly hamper his movements but he shrugged -his shoulders philosophically. - -“Follansbee is a lucky rascal, and a keen one,” he thought. “He has -remained in the background, and even that telltale conversation I -overheard last night doesn’t seem destined to be used as a weapon -against him. He’s certainly stolen a base or two, but he may yet be -called out at the home plate!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIV. - - A VISIT TO THE BANK. - - -The journey to and from the suburban hotel had occupied considerable -time, and it was almost one o’clock before the detective returned to -the Windermere. - -The clerk saw him enter the lobby and called him to the desk. He was -informed of the telephone message and of Patsy’s call at the hotel. He -realized, of course, that one of his assistants had been trying to get -in touch with him, but he did not know that it was in connection with -that particular case. - -Moreover, something came up which made it necessary for him to -disregard Patsy’s injunction to remain in until he could be reached. - -“Mr. Crawford hasn’t come back yet, Mr. Mortimer?” the clerk asked. -“The gentleman seemed to know him, too.” - -The detective had turned away from the desk, but he faced about and -shook his head. - -“I’m afraid that Crawford will not be back for some time,” he replied. -“He was taken very ill while we were out together, and I had to remove -him to a hospital. I’m not quite sure what’s the matter with him. -I’m afraid, though, that it’s some sort of fever which he may have -contracted in South America.” - -The hotel clerk looked startled. “It’s nothing very serious, I hope?” -he said. - -“I trust not,” was the reply. “The hospital people feel sure that it -isn’t contagious, if that’s what you mean.” - -Again he started to leave the desk, but the clerk once more detained -him. “A messenger came from the Standard National Bank about half an -hour ago,” the young man explained. “He asked for either Mr. Stone or -Mr. Crawford, and said it was very important. Mr. Stone was in his room -in the small hours of the morning, I understand, but he isn’t there -now, and nobody seems to have seen him about the building this morning.” - -A little glint came into Nick’s eyes, but the clerk did not notice it. - -“The Standard National is near here, isn’t it?” he inquired, although -he knew perfectly well. - -“Yes, it’s just around the corner,” and the clerk indicated the -direction. - -“Then I think I’ll drop around there. I can give them some information -about Crawford, anyway; besides, we’ve come to know each other pretty -well.” - -His manner was careless, but inwardly he attached a great deal of -importance to the bit of information which by chance had come his way. -It suggested one of the possibilities he had feared, namely, that -Follansbee would try some trick to get possession of a large sum of -money belonging to one or the other of the partners, or both. - -It being Saturday, he found the bank closed when he reached it, but -most of the employees were still on hand, and his knock soon brought a -response. He mentioned his business to the clerk who opened the door, -and a few moments later he was led into the cashier’s room. The bank -official had expected either Stone or Crawford, and his face betrayed -his disappointment. His manner was another proof that something out of -the ordinary had occurred, or was impending. - -Nick drew a card front his pocket and held it out silently. As soon as -the cashier saw the name, “Nicholas Carter,” his eyes widened. - -“There’s nothing wrong, Mr. Carter, I hope?” he asked quickly. “I was -very doubtful of honoring the check, but I had Mr. Stone’s own note to -justify me.” - -From the desk at his elbow he picked up a sheet of paper bearing the -Hotel Windermere heading, and held it out. Nick glanced at the big, -careless scrawl. - -“Yes,” he said. “I’ve seen specimens of Stone’s writing, and I don’t -think there’s any doubt that this is his.” - -The cashier then extended a check marked “paid,” and made out to “S. -Follansbee.” - -There were probably several men among New York City’s five millions who -had the right to that name and initial, but it seemed perfectly safe to -eliminate all but one. It was the sum called for, however, that riveted -the detective’s attention at once and caused him to fairly gasp. - -“Four hundred and fifty thousand dollars!” he ejaculated. “Great Scott! -That practically cleans out Stone’s account, doesn’t it?” - -“It leaves only twenty-five or thirty thousand, I believe,” was the -worried answer. - -The detective was still examining the check, and the cashier watched -the keen face for a few moments. - -“You seem greatly startled by the amount, Mr. Carter,” he ventured -presently. “Please tell me if there’s anything out of the way. I had my -doubts about it—owing solely to the size of the check; therefore I kept -the man waiting until I had sent around to the hotel to make sure, but -neither Mr. Stone nor his friend Mr. Crawford, who also has a large sum -on deposit, was within reach.” - -“Did Follansbee present the check?” - -“Oh, no. It was a young man who looked like a rather superior sort of -servant, and who spoke English with a slight accent—German or Austrian, -I think. The check was endorsed, as you see, and the man brought with -him not only that note purporting to be signed by Mr. Stone, but also -one from Doctor Follansbee on St. Swithin’s stationery. Here it is.” - -He handed Nick another sheet, bearing Follansbee’s signature under an -authorization to cash the check for his agent. - -“That’s undoubtedly genuine,” the cashier went on. “I called up Doctor -Follansbee at the hospital, and he assured me that everything was -regular. There didn’t seem to be anything to do but to take his word -for it, owing to his position and reputation. It seemed very queer, -though, and I couldn’t understand why he didn’t send the check to his -own bank and let it take the usual course.” - -“You cashed it, then, in currency?” - -“Yes, the man brought along a hand bag and carried away the money in -it.” - -“Did you mark any of the bills?” - -“Yes; many of those of large denomination. I felt compelled to take -that precaution, although it seemed foolish. There were too many of -them, though, to mark anywhere near all.” - -Carter leaned forward suddenly, and, holding Stone’s note and the check -together, placed them in front of the cashier. - -“Do you notice any striking peculiarities about these two documents?” -he asked. - -The bank official scrutinized them carefully. - -“I don’t quite know what you mean,” he said at length. “Oh, I think -I see. All except the signature of the check seems to be written in -another hand—more like Follansbee’s than Stone’s. Is that it?” - -“That the most obvious,” the detective answered. “It hints that Stone -was foolish enough to sign a blank check or something of that sort. -That isn’t all, though. One would naturally assume that the check and -Stone’s note authorizing the payment had been written at the same -time, yet I’d swear the ink on this check is older—perhaps several -days older—than that on the note. What’s more, I happen to know that, -although this note is written on hotel paper, the ink used is not the -shade of that furnished at the Windermere.” - -“By George!” muttered the cashier. “This is getting serious. You don’t -mean to tell me that Doctor Stephen Follansbee is a scamp?” - -“These things speak for themselves, don’t they?” Nick asked quietly. -“And there are other straws which show the way the wind is blowing.” - -“What, for instance?” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXV. - - THE DOCTOR GETS A SURPRISE. - - -The fires were now burning brightly in the great detective’s eyes. - -“I’m of the opinion that this note isn’t more than a few hours old,” he -said, tapping the paper signed by Stone. “The ink is still fresh, and, -besides, there’s the date—the twenty-fifth.” - -“What of that?” demanded the cashier. “The check is also dated to-day.” - -“But it wasn’t made out to-day.” - -“Still, I don’t see what you’re driving at. The check may have been -dated ahead, and when the time approached for presenting it, Follansbee -might have asked for the note to present along with it.” - -“Doubtless that’s what happened, but what I’m getting at is this: - -“This note purports to have been written at the Hotel Windermere on the -twenty-fifth—to-day. I happen to know, however, that Stone hasn’t been -at the hotel since about three o’clock this morning, and I’m pretty -well aware of the manner in which he was occupied while he was there. -It isn’t likely that he wrote this note between midnight and three -o’clock, and even if he did do so, it isn’t probable that he would have -dated it to-day. Under such circumstances a man would jot down the date -of the day before, nine times out of ten.” - -“Then you think that the note was written after he left the hotel?” - -“I do, and I believe that the paper was thoughtfully given to him for -the purpose, after having previously been removed from the hotel. That -in itself is suspicious. It suggests a plot, and it, together with -the character of the writing, hints that the note was written under -pressure, or that Stone was not himself when he scribbled it. You -can see the difference between the note, signature and all, and the -signature on the check. The latter is big and bold and careless, but -the note, although obviously written in the same hand, is tremulous and -betrays agitation.” - -Expert as he was, Carter was a little astray there. He was not in a -position to know that the agitation revealed had been due not to any -threats of Follansbee’s, but to the fact that Stone had been sane once -more when he wrote it, and was suffering from the effects of his recent -alarm and remorse. - -As for his reasoning concerning the date on the note, it was sound -enough in general, but the fact was the note had been written at -Follansbee’s, and that one of the doctor’s servants, before retiring -for the night, had torn off the sheet on the top of the pad calendar on -the desk. That bearing the date of the twenty-fourth, had consequently -gone into the waste basket, and the following date had been revealed -in anticipation of the next day. Stone had glanced at this, and -mechanically copied it. - -“Then you think that this check and note were written under undue -influence?” queried the cashier. - -Nick nodded emphatically. - -“There isn’t the slightest doubt about it,” he answered. “As a matter -of fact, Stone has been suffering for months from some obscure mental -trouble, and that is what took him to Doctor Follansbee.” - -“Is it possible!” whispered the bank official. “That’s very -unfortunate. We couldn’t be expected to know that, though; and, after -all, I hardly see what other course we could have followed.” - -“Oh, that’s all right,” Nick assured him. “The bank can’t be blamed. It -was an unusual proceeding, but you had ample justification for honoring -the check, and you did what you could to get hold of Stone or his -partner before doing so.” - -A relieved look spread over the cashier’s face. - -“I’m glad to hear you say that, Mr. Carter,” he declared gravely. “Both -the president and vice president are out of town, and this thing is up -to me. As a matter of fact, it seems to me that Mr. Stone oughtn’t to -have been allowed to handle so much money if he’s in the state you say -he is. We’re not alienists, and we would never have expected such a -thing. Besides, the check would not have been honored had it not been -made out to a man of such prominence who personally vouched for the -proceeding, as he did over the telephone.” - -“I understand,” Nick said consolingly. “Don’t worry about your end of -it. I think I can promise you that there won’t be any comeback. It’s -up to me, though, to repair the damage, if I can. I had come to fear -something of this sort in the last few hours, but Follansbee has stolen -a march on me. I don’t think his methods do any very great credit to -his undoubted shrewdness, though, and the evidence you have to offer -ought to be enough to make it hot for him.” - -He left a few minutes later, after promising to keep the bank informed -of developments. - -“Follansbee has made the haul of his life,” Nick thought, as he paced -along the busy street on his way back to the hotel; “and evidently -Crawford wasn’t his only victim.” - -When he reached the Windermere, his first act was to inquire if Stone -had returned or if anything had been heard from him. - -“Nothing doing,” was the clerk’s answer. “We’re somewhat alarmed, Mr. -Mortimer. We don’t see how he could have left his room without the -knowledge of the floor clerk.” - -Nick looked about and saw there was no one else within earshot. He -leaned confidentially over the desk. - -“I know how he left the building,” he told the clerk; “and although I -don’t feel at liberty to tell you the whole story, I’ll say this much: -I’m Nicholas Carter, not Thomas Mortimer, and I have been keeping an -eye on Stone and Crawford—for their good.” - -“You don’t mean it!” cried the clerk, eying Nick’s make-up inquiringly. -“I hope they haven’t done anything——” - -“Nothing of that sort,” Nick assured him quickly. “It’s a long story, -and the time hasn’t come to tell it. Just keep it dark, therefore. I -revealed my identity to your house detective last night, but I don’t -want it to be generally known that I’ve been here in disguise.” - -“Trust me, Mr. Carter; I understand. Is Mr. Crawford really ill, -though?” - -Nick gave a slow wink. “No, he isn’t,” he admitted. “I put that one -over on you for reasons of my own, and I want you to pass the story on -to any one who inquires after him. He won’t be back for a few days, but -you’re to hold his room for him. I’ll be responsible.” - -“And Mr. Stone?” - -“I think I know where to find him, and I’m going to trace him without -delay. Something may have happened to him, but nothing very serious, -I’m sure. I’m going to give up my room now, since there doesn’t seem to -be anything else I can do here. By the way, I have reason to believe -that the young man who phoned for me and called here later is one of my -assistants. If he asks for me again after I leave, try to find out his -identity without letting the cat out of the bag, and if he satisfies -you, tell him I’ve gone home.” - -It was after two o’clock when Nick arrived at the house uptown, where -he inquired first for Chick and then for Patsy Garvan. His housekeeper -informed him that Chick was in Providence, and that Patsy had seemed -very anxious to reach his fellow assistant or his chief that morning. - -“You don’t know why?” - -“No, sir, I don’t; but I think it is something important. He’s been out -every night lately, and goodness knows what time he’s been coming in. -He slept until half past eleven this morning, and that’s why he missed -Mr. Chick.” - -“Did he say where he was going?” - -“No, sir.” - -It was plain that Patsy had stumbled over something important and was -badly in need of advice, but it did not occur to the detective that it -could have anything to do with Follansbee or Stone. He had given out no -assignment of that sort. He found several matters which demanded his -attention, and spent some time at his headquarters. He was impatient -for the next move, but delayed a little in the hope that Patsy would -put in an appearance. At length, however, having heard nothing from his -young assistant, he determined on a bold step—nothing less than to seek -out Doctor Follansbee and confront the cunning rogue with the evidence -he had gathered. - -“It’s doubtful if I will be able to bring him to terms,” he told -himself, “for I doubt if he has a nerve in his body. It’s worth trying, -though. If he realizes that I’ve taken up the case, it will make him -move more cautiously than he otherwise would. Besides, I must find out, -if possible, what has happened to Stone. Poor Crawford will be on pins -and needles until I can send him some definite word; and let’s hope the -news won’t be too bad. Follansbee certainly means no good to Stone. -He has annexed practically the whole of the fortune, and that implies -some scheme to get rid of his victim. I’d be afraid that the worst had -happened if I did not feel sure that Follansbee isn’t the man to make -use of any ordinary means of gaining his ends.” - -The detective hunted up Doctor Follansbee’s private address in the -telephone book and began hasty preparations for departure. He had -already removed his disguise, and did not consider another. He meant to -go openly in one of his cars and to see if he could scare the head of -St. Swithin’s into returning the money and dropping all of his schemes -against the partners. - -It was shortly after four o’clock when his machine stopped in front of -the doctor’s house and he strode up the steps. He was more than half -prepared to find that Follansbee was out, although he had called up the -hospital and learned that the doctor was not there. On the contrary, -however, the servant informed him that her employer was at home. - -Nick thought best not to give his name, and was ushered into the -reception room as if he had been an ordinary patient without an -appointment. But Follansbee happened to be at liberty, and in a -few moments the servant invited him into the office adjoining the -reception room. - -It was a dark day, and the electric lights were on in the office. Nick -stepped quietly into the room, and the light fell full upon his face. -Follansbee did not look up at first, but when he became conscious that -his visitor was standing just inside the door, he turned round to -motion him to a seat. As he caught sight of the detective, he gave a -visible start, and the hand on the desk closed convulsively. - -His cool self-command had deserted him for the moment when he found -himself face to face with the man who had once thwarted him and -threatened to crush him if he ever broke his parole. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVI. - - SOME PLAIN TRUTHS. - - -Stephen Follansbee’s loss of nerve was only momentary, however, and, -after their looks had met, Nick quietly closed the door behind him, -and, striding forward, dropped into a chair. - -Follansbee looked at him with half-closed eyes and tapped on the desk -with his long fingers. “This is an unexpected pleasure, Mr. Carter,” he -said, in his high, thin voice. “Of course I’m always glad to see such a -distinguished visitor as yourself.” - -Nick’s smile was grim. He rated his antagonist’s recovered coolness and -quiet irony at their true value. Physically, Follansbee was beneath -contempt, but Nick was well aware that he represented an infinitely -more dangerous type of criminal than any hulking, broad-shouldered -ruffian who ever swaggered through the world. - -“You did not come to see me on professional business, I take it?” -Follansbee went on, a quiet smile lifting the corners of his mouth. -“You don’t look as if you needed medical attention.” - -“No, I’m quite well, thank you,” was the calm response. “I have come to -see you concerning a certain case I have taken up.” - -“Indeed?” - -The doctor’s voice was mildly curious, but there was a perceptible -tightening of his fingers which told Nick that the man was holding -himself in by sheer force of will. - -“Yes,” the detective continued; “recently I’ve had cause to play the -part of a sort of bodyguard to a man who has just returned to this -country from South America. His name is Winthrop Crawford.” - -Follansbee’s performance was improving, in spite of the increasing -strain under which he was laboring. - -“That doesn’t sound like a very important task for one of your -abilities,” remarked the physician. “What were your duties, may I ask?” - -They were fencing with each other—fencing with the skill of masters—and -Nick set himself to his task with keen zest. - -“I undertook the part of bodyguard to Crawford,” he explained, “in -order that he might be safe from the murderous attacks of his former -friend and partner, James Stone.” - -“Oh!” Follansbee played with the pen on his desk. “All this may be very -interesting to you,” he said presently, “but I can’t imagine what it -has to do with me. If you can enlighten me as to that, perhaps I shall -prove a better listener.” - -Nick leaned forward quickly, and his clean-cut face was grave and hard. -“On second thoughts, I suggest that we throw aside our masks, and -go at it face to face,” he said. “I’m telling you this for the very -good reason that to my personal knowledge you had a hand in the last -fiendish attack which Stone made on Crawford.” - -Follansbee raised his vulturelike face and shot a keen glance at the -detective. - -“I suppose you’re quite sane,” he said slowly, “although your -statements sound curiously wild. You deliberately accuse me of having -connived with some man of whose identity I am ignorant, to murder some -one?” - -“I do!” Nick rapped out. “And the reason I accuse you of it is that I -saw you—and heard you—conspiring with Stone last night in his room at -the Hotel Windermere.” - -“Good Lord!” - -Stephen Follansbee had betrayed himself. His icy self-command had -cracked for a moment, and through the fissure Nick saw a flicker of -fear in the beady eyes. - -“Ah! I found a joint in your armor that time, didn’t I? Shall I tell -you what you did at the hotel?” - -But the head of St. Swithin’s held himself once more with a tight rein. -He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. - -“I’m afraid you misinterpreted my exclamation,” he said. “It was called -out not by guilt, but by astonishment and concern. My confidence in -your sanity has received a big jolt, Carter. I’ve been treated to many -such flights of the imagination, but I never expected to find you -indulging in them. Professionally, though, your condition appeals to -me, and I’m tempted to humor you; therefore, go on by all means, and -tell me what I did at the—what hotel did you say it was?” - -“Cut it out, Follansbee,” the detective advised, ignoring the question. -“You’ve given yourself away, and it’s a waste of cleverness to try to -cover up the break now. I’ll accept your invitation, though, and tell -you what you did. In the first place, you were unconventional enough to -choose the fire escape as a means of access to Stone’s room.” - -He did not look into Follansbee’s eyes, but fastened his gaze on the -man’s right temple. The eyes would have told him nothing, but there -was a blue, distended vein in that temple, and its throbbing was -significant. - -“You and your patient—your tool—used a painter’s ladder to reach the -fire escape,” the detective went on, “and when you had climbed to -Stone’s room, on the second floor, you neglected to remove a little -wedge of wood on the sill which prevented the sash from closing.” - -He leaned farther forward, and his voice was the voice of a judge. -“Thanks to that little oversight, Follansbee,” he continued, “I was -able to hear all that you said. I heard from your own lips about the -hypodermic syringe, and the character of its contents, as well as about -the drug which you gave to Stone to—— - -“Keep your hands up!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVII. - - FOLLANSBEE REACHES THE LIMIT. - - -The sudden command had been fully justified. - -One of Follansbee’s long, lean hands crept to his side—the side away -from the detective—and had been extended toward an open drawer in the -desk. - -Nick did not wait to see whether his order met with obedience or not. -The words were still on his lips when he leaped to his feet and flung -himself across the intervening space, grasping the thin, steel-like -wrists of the physician. - -The grip brought Follansbee to his feet, and for a moment the two -faced each other, their eyes flashing. Perhaps the powerful grip of -the detective’s fingers had warned Follansbee of the uselessness of a -struggle, but the unmasked, flaming rage in his face revealed the depth -of his hatred. - -A quiet smile flitted over the detective’s features. He quietly -brought Follansbee’s two wrists together, clasped them both with the -fingers of one hand, and then leaning down, pulled out the open drawer -a little farther. - -As he had anticipated, he found a revolver in it. This he confiscated -and dropped it into his pocket. - -“I’ll take charge of this,” he announced. “All the same, though, I -don’t trust you, and I must ask you to keep your hands on the desk -hereafter. If you don’t, you may get hurt.” - -With that he released Follansbee and stepped back. The head of St. -Swithin’s glared at him for a few brief moments, then subsided into his -chair again, and, with a sullen, venomous look, leaned both arms on the -desk. - -“I suppose there’s no use in playing the part any longer,” he confessed. - -Nick pricked up his ears at this and wondered if it were possible that -Follansbee was about to make a clean breast of it. The latter’s next -words, however, proved that the hope was groundless. - -“I was at the Windermere last night,” Follansbee declared coolly, “but -not for the reason you think. James Stone is my patient, and that’s why -I consented to go through with that rather questionable farce. I can -hardly blame you for misinterpreting it, but the fact remains——” - -“Drop it!” Nick broke in. “I can guess what you’re going to say. You’re -going to tell me that you were merely ‘humoring’ Stone in an attempt to -draw him out and get to the root of his disease. I suppose you think -I’m green enough to believe that there was nothing harmful in that -syringe.” - -“Nothing worse than glycerine,” the physician assured him. - -Nick’s laugh was harsh. - -“You’re a fool, Follansbee,” he declared. “You think you’re so clever -that you can’t make yourself believe the other fellow has any brains at -all.” - -“Do you think a man of my standing would deliberately lie?” - -The detective might have said that he knew Follansbee was lying, but he -did not choose to do so for the very good reason that he did not wish -the doctor to learn just then what he had done. - -“Standing hasn’t anything to do with it,” he answered. “It’s your -personality I don’t trust, Follansbee.” - -The physician’s lips curled cynically. “That’s my misfortune—or -yours,” he said. “You played the spy last night and heard some things -which could easily be twisted. Your interpretation is wide of the -mark, however, and even if it were not, more than one witness would -be required to give any weight to the evidence. You couldn’t prove -anything against me if you tried, and I’m sure you’re too sensible to -try. I have no personal knowledge of the matter, but I’ll wager that -your friend is perfectly well and sound to-day. If he isn’t, it’s no -fault of mine.” - -“What’s the good of this fencing?” demanded the detective. “Of course -Crawford is all right—so far as you know. That’s understood, and was -provided for in your instructions to your tool. The stuff isn’t -supposed to act at once, and that’s why you chose it. We’ll come back -to that later on. What I want to make clear now is that I know exactly -what you’ve done and that I also know you have already realized on your -crime.” - -Doctor Follansbee stiffened a little. “Realized on my crime?” he cried. -“What do you mean by that?” - -“Precisely what I say,” Nick answered coolly. “I happened to make a -call early this afternoon at a certain bank not far from the Hotel -Windermere, and I had a very interesting interview with its cashier. -He showed me three decidedly noteworthy documents—a note from you, one -from James Stone, and last, but not least, a check signed by Stone, but -otherwise filled in by you. It called for a huge amount, and had been -cashed just before the bank closed.” - -Follansbee’s control was amazing. - -“Well, what of it?” he snarled. “Everything was regular, wasn’t it? -Surely you haven’t any doubt of the genuineness of Stone’s note? As for -the check, it was for a large sum, I’ll admit, but every one knows that -I exact large fees, and if a patient chooses to consider my services -worth that much, it’s none of your business.” - -“Isn’t it? I’m afraid you’re mistaken there, Follansbee. Picture -to yourself what it will mean when this thing comes out; when the -world learns that you have obtained nearly half a million dollars by -swindling a patient who trusted himself to you, and whose unsound -mind made him an easy victim. How long do you think you will hold -your position at the head of St. Swithin’s? And how many of your -rich patients will employ you again when it is known that you used -disappearing ink to gain your unscrupulous ends? Ah, I see that gets -under your skin!” - -The detective paused for a moment and watched the discomfited rascal -through narrowed lids. - -“I thought at first that Stone had merely signed the check in blank,” -he continued, “which would have implied a greater mental lack on his -part and a lesser degree of criminality on yours; but now I know -better. I took that check home with me, Follansbee, and examined it -under a microscope. Thanks to that, I discovered that there had been -other writing on it—doubtless in Stone’s hand. Your trick ink had -quite disappeared, but the point of the pen had slightly scratched the -surface of the paper; and, moreover, the application of a chemical on -one or two spots revealed traces of the ink originally used. As soon as -the bank gives me permission to do so, I shall apply that chemical—you -can doubtless guess what it is—to the whole check, and thereby bring -out the original writing once more. And when I do so, I’m sure I shall -find that, as Stone made it out, the check originally called for a much -smaller sum. Doubtless you found some excuse to change inks when it -came to the signature, with the result that it alone was written with -ordinary ink. What do you say to that?” - -Apparently Follansbee had nothing to say. His hands were clenched on -his desk and he was biting his under lip and glaring fearfully at the -detective. Nick returned look for look and allowed his glance to play -over the surface of the desk. As it did so, it fell upon a letter -which Follansbee had been writing before his visitor’s entrance. The -doctor’s name and address were engraved in the upper left-hand corner, -and the ink in which the beginning of the letter was written was of the -same shade as that used on the three documents which the detective had -obtained at the bank. - -“That reminds me,” said Nick, looking from the unfinished letter to the -open ink bottle. - -He paused, and then with a swift movement thrust his hand out, picked -up the bottle, corked it, and started to drop it into his pocket. - -“This will be one more link in the chain—your chain,” he announced. - -Snarling like a wild beast, and with an agility for which Nick had not -given him credit, Follansbee shot out of his chair and hurled himself -upon the detective. - -In the brief tussle which followed, the tables were turned, despite the -detective’s greater bulk and strength. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVIII. - - NICK IS BALKED. - - -One of the little physician’s hands shot out and caught at the ink -bottle which the detective was about to pocket, and as they reeled -across the room together, the rascal lowered his head unexpectedly and -set his sharp teeth into Nick Carter’s hand. - -It was the trick of an animal rather than of a human being, and it took -the detective completely by surprise. - -Involuntarily Nick released his hold on the bottle, and it fell to the -floor. The fall did not break it, however, and Follansbee was obliged -to kick it into the fireplace, where it struck against one of the -massive andirons and was shattered, its contents mixing with the ashes. - -With a swift movement Nick released himself from his clinging -antagonist, and sent him spinning after the broken bottle. The doctor -recovered his balance, gasping for breath, and the two faced each other -silently for a few moments. - -“Well,” Follansbee said presently, panting, “you didn’t connect with -that bit of evidence after all, did you?” - -The detective shrugged his shoulders. - -“True,” he admitted. “I knew I was dealing with a cur, but I forgot -that you weren’t muzzled. You needn’t pride yourself on your victory, -however; the ink would have been a little further evidence against you, -but I can very easily get along without it. But I didn’t come here to -bandy words with you, or to fight with mad dogs. I came to find out -where your latest victim is—Stone, I mean; and I’d advise you not to -put any more obstacles in my way.” - -“What do I know about Stone?” - -“That’s what I want you to tell me. I heard you arrange to wait for him -outside the bank, and I saw you leave the hotel for that performance. -He hasn’t been back since, and the hotel people are beginning to worry -about it. It is up to you to do a little explaining, if you don’t want -to be accused of another crime.” - -“I know nothing about it,” the rascal insisted. “Stone came back here, -it’s true. I brought him in my car, and he was here for some little -time. It must have been something after three o’clock when he left, -intending to walk back to the hotel. That’s the last I saw of him.” - -He spoke with the utmost assurance, and unfortunately Nick was not able -to contradict him. The detective realized with a sinking of the heart -that, in spite of Follansbee’s telltale flareups and partial or implied -confessions, the man intended to fight doggedly every step of the way. - -For a moment he was at a loss to know how to proceed, and the Buzzard, -seeing his hesitation, took advantage of that fact. - -“That’s all I have to tell you,” Follansbee went on triumphantly. “Make -as much—or as little—of it as you can. Let me remind you of something -else, too. Any charge you may try to bring against me will involve -Stone and give a lot of undesirable publicity to his mental condition. -It will involve you, too, for if he’s as dangerous as you claim he is, -the newspapers and the public will ask why you allowed him to go about -of his own free will, to live unmolested at a hotel, and all the rest -of it. More than that, the revelations that will inevitably follow -will make your friend Crawford very sore. He has stuck to Stone, I -understand, through thick and thin. I don’t pretend to say what his -motives have been, but I know enough to be sure that he won’t welcome -the limelight when it’s thrown upon them.” - -Nick was amazed at the man’s cleverness in making use of such an -argument. He had felt himself hampered at every turn by the peculiar -circumstances which surrounded the case, and especially by Crawford’s -insistance that no punishment be visited upon his old partner. It had -seemed to the detective, however, when he discovered the way in which -Follansbee had juggled with the check, that he had the scoundrel where -he wanted him, but now he was beginning to doubt even that. At any -rate, he did not feel justified in having Follansbee arrested at once. -He needed to know what had become of Stone before doing that, and it -was desirable to have another conference with Crawford in order to see -how far the latter was willing for him to go. - -All of which meant that he was unprepared in many ways for the -situation which had developed. It went decidedly against the grain, -after having carried things so far, to be obliged to indulge only -in empty words, and finally to walk out of Follansbee’s house -empty-handed. Yet that seemed to be what he was destined to do. Had -he known what Patsy Garvan knew, he could have turned the tables very -neatly, and might have brought Follansbee to time, but he did not -have an inkling that his assistant’s eagerness to see him had had any -bearing on the case in hand. - -“You refuse, then, to tell me where James Stone is?” he asked, harking -back to his errand. - -“I have told you all I know,” the head of St. Swithin’s declared -sullenly. “I’m not running an insane asylum.” - -“And you’re going to keep his fortune? You don’t think it wise to make -restitution, and thereby lighten your punishment?” - -“I shall certainly not part with the money,” was the answer. “I have -earned it, or will earn it before I get through. If I’m let alone, -James Stone will not be crazy when I have finished with him. As for -any little irregularities there may have been about the transaction, -that’s a matter for Stone and Crawford to decide. It isn’t any of your -business or the public’s, and if you’re wise you won’t try to take any -steps against me.” - -He was still standing before the fireplace, and perceptibly trembling -with rage. He clenched his hands now and bared his teeth. - -“Have a care, Nicholas Carter,” he went on shrilly. “I’m not the sort -of man to allow another to cross my path with impunity. It would be far -better for you to retire from this case right now, and leave matters as -they stand. If you become a menace to me, I swear I’ll sweep you out of -my way.” Here he passed his long, lean hand around, as though brushing -away some object. “Let me tell you,” he added, “that I’m a dangerous -man to have for an enemy.” - -“Your threats haven’t any weight with me, Follansbee,” the detective -answered quietly. “I’ve devoted my life to handling such blackguards as -you. You’re clever, but you’re not clever enough; no scamp is. The evil -he does trips him up sooner or later. I tell you here and now that you -will not enjoy one penny of that money, no matter what happens. You may -spend some of it, but you’ll be looking for a thunderbolt all the time.” - -As he spoke, he half turned and approached the door. He took good care, -however, to keep one eye on the physician, for he knew that at that -moment Follansbee was ready for anything. - -“I’ve given you your chance,” the detective said, as he laid his hand -on the knob, “and you haven’t seen fit to take it. I can find Stone -without aid, and when I do, you’ll discover that you’ve made a bad -bargain. Good afternoon.” - -The door closed behind the lithe figure, and Follansbee just for a -moment allowed his stiff attitude to relax. It seemed as though the -lean body shrank, that his clothes suddenly became too large for him. -There was a curious mummylike expression about his sharp features as he -leaned against the mantel. - -“How much does he know?” he muttered to himself. “By heavens, it was -well that I got rid of Stone when I did. I defy him to find out where -he is now.” - -A sudden gust of anger swept over him, and he reeled toward the door, -shaking his fists. “I defy you! I defy you!” he shrieked, in his thin -voice. “Look out for yourself, Nick Carter! Men have died for less -than you have done.” - -There was an unholy meaning in his voice, and the face looked fiendish -in its menace. At that moment Stephen Follansbee looked what he was—an -insatiable bird of prey. “Only let me get you into my power,” he -continued, “and nothing in the world will save you!” - -Nick Carter had made another enemy; one whose scientific resources and -unusual shrewdness might have daunted almost any one, when coupled, as -they were, with the maddening thirst for revenge which shook him at -that moment. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIX. - - PATSY TRACES THE AMBULANCE. - - -There is always a certain element of luck in one’s experiences, and -chance ordained it that Patsy Garvan should arrive in front of St. -Swithin’s Hospital at just the right moment. His anxiety had sent him -in that direction after his repeated failures to reach his chief, but -he had no very definite idea in view. - -He had driven the little runabout to Amsterdam Avenue partly to kill -time during his chief’s absence from the hotel. Having left the car -around the corner, he had approached the hospital on foot. When he came -near the big entrance, he noticed an ambulance—evidently a private -one, for there was no lettering on it—drawn up at the curb with a -circle of the curious loitering about it. Evidently some patient was to -be taken away in the ambulance; perhaps a convalescent. Patsy mingled -with the crowd, but before he had time to make any inquiries, a couple -of hospital attendants appeared, half carrying, half supporting a tall -man. - -One glance at the face was sufficient for Patsy. Despite the intense -pallor which lay under the tan, he recognized it at once as being that -of James Stone, whom he had previously taken pains to identify. The -miner was fully dressed, but his eyes were sunken, and every line of -his naturally powerful frame bespoke weakness and listlessness. The -two attendants, although they were supporting Stone, were allowing him -to make use of his lower limbs, and the mine owner was able to walk -unsteadily toward the ambulance. - -Nick’s assistant looked about and into the wide hallway, but could see -no signs of Doctor Follansbee. A dapper-looking interne in a white -uniform was superintending the removal. When Stone had been placed in -the vehicle, a stout, matronly looking nurse in uniform came out of the -hospital and entered the waiting ambulance. Immediately the vehicle, a -motor one, started quietly and shot ahead down the street. - -Patsy bitterly regretted that he had left his runabout. If he had -brought it to the front of the hospital he could have followed the -ambulance, but as it was there was no hope of that. The ambulance was -already a block away, and going at a high rate of speed, and there was -no other available vehicle within reach. - -“Confound it,” thought the young detective. “Why didn’t it have a sign -on it? If it had I would have known where to look for Stone.” - -As a matter of fact, he did know where to look, although indirectly. -He had to have something to worry about, however, for this succession -of anticipated developments was getting on his nerves, and he felt -very much aggrieved because he had been unable to share the knowledge -of them with any one else. He had taken the precaution of fixing the -license number of the ambulance in his memory before it had been -whisked away, and he knew that all he had to do—unless the number was a -false one—was to get into communication with the license bureau. - -He chose to follow that line rather than to question the young interne, -since the latter course might have aroused suspicion, and his questions -might be reported to Follansbee. It involved some delay, but that could -hardly be avoided, and the sight of Stone, though weak and ill, had -reassured Patsy somewhat. At any rate, he knew now that the man was not -dead, and there seemed to be no reason to believe that a few hours’ -further delay, if it came to that, would have very serious consequences. - -Apparently Doctor Follansbee was playing an unusual game, and one -that could not be brought to a conclusion at once. Patsy had no -doubt that the head of St. Swithin’s had planned this move from the -beginning. Stone had probably been taken to the big hospital the night -before merely as a temporary expedient, and to lend an appearance of -regularity to the proceedings. Now he was being removed to some place -where Follansbee would find himself less hampered in his dealings with -him. - -The crowd had quickly melted away, and the young interne and the -hospital attendants had reëntered the big building while Patsy stood -staring after the vanishing ambulance. Now he strode away and returned -to his own car. Entering it, he drove a few blocks and stopped in front -of a telephone pay station. After a little delay he obtained the number -of the license bureau, and asked for the name of the institution owning -the designated machine. - -It was two or three minutes before he received a reply, but when it -came, it told him all that he needed to know for the time being. - -“Nineteen-nineteen license, number five hundred and fifty thousand, -three hundred and thirteen, New York, is issued in the name of Miss -Worth’s Private Hospital for Convalescents, fifteen thousand Flatbush -Avenue, Brooklyn,” he was told. - -Patsy thanked his informant, to whom he had been obliged to give his -name in order to obtain the desired information. When he had reached -the street again he paused before entering the runabout. - -“Now, it’s up to me to make another stab at an interview with the -chief,” he thought. “If I don’t catch him this time, I’ll begin to -think I’m the victim of a jinx.” - -He entered the little car and headed back to the Hotel Windermere. -There he received another slap. Nick had been in and left, but the -clerk questioned Patsy as the detective had suggested, and satisfied -himself of his identity. The young assistant learned in this way that -his chief had revealed himself to the clerk, and had left word that he -was going back home. - -He swallowed his disappointment as best he could, and felt sure that -the trail must be nearing its end. He had no doubt that he would find -his chief when he reached the house. - -But Fate took the next trick away from him also. - - - - - CHAPTER XL. - - THE PRIVATE HOSPITAL. - - -In his eagerness to reach the detective’s headquarters, Patsy drove -the runabout rather recklessly at a time when the streets were full -of traffic. As a result, his machine was struck by a street car, and -he was thrown out against the curbstone. He was rendered unconscious -and removed to the hospital, where, owing to the fact that he was in -disguise, his identity was not discovered. - -When he came to, he felt decidedly groggy at first, but insisted on -dressing and leaving the hospital. After he had given his name, he was -allowed to go under protest, and a taxi was sent for. - -The hired machine took him home in record time, but when he arrived -there, the chief had once more flown. To be sure, he had left word that -he was going to Doctor Follansbee’s, but that only added to Patsy’s -troubles. - -On the one side, the young assistant felt it to be his duty to follow -his chief immediately and reveal what he had learned, in the hope that -his information would clinch the case against the doctor, and leave -the latter no loophole or escape. On the other hand, however, he found -himself hesitating and undecided. He did not know why his chief had -gone to the physician’s house, and was afraid to spoil Nick’s plans -in some way. The detective might be working under cover in such a way -that Patsy’s coming would ruin everything. Anyway, even at best, it -would be decidedly awkward for him to break in on an interview without -previously preparing his superior for his revelations, or finding out -if they would be welcome at that time. - -If he only could have caught his chief before the latter had left, -all would have been well, but as it was, Nick might already have left -Follansbee’s, and Patsy’s inquiries for him might alarm the physician -and lead to further complications. - -“This is certainly my unlucky day,” Nick’s assistant complained -inwardly. “What the dickens am I to do now? I could sit here and -twiddle my thumbs, of course, while waiting for the chief to show -up, but every time I get busy, I seem to learn something more of -importance—something that the chief isn’t wise to. I think, therefore, -I’ll have another try at the same game.” - -He was already feeling much better, and a bath and a change of clothing -left few traces of his recent accident. Before leaving the house, he -scribbled a brief note to his chief and left it with the housekeeper. -It read: - - “DEAR CHIEF: I have been having a mischief of a time trying to locate - you. I am bursting with information about Stone and Follansbee, but - have decided not to run the risk of spoiling your play by following - you to the latter’s house. Stone has been removed from St. Swithin’s - Hospital to Miss Worth’s private hospital for convalescents, on - Flatbush Avenue. I saw him when he was put into the ambulance. - He looked considerably the worse for wear, but was walking—with - assistance. I’m going over to Brooklyn now to murder a little more - time while waiting for you. For the love of Mike stay put this time - until I can get back! - - P.G.” - -Young Garvan had already put one car out of commission that day, and -did not know where it was, although he assumed that it was in the -hands of the police—if there was anything left of it. That was only an -incident in the day’s work, however, and he promptly sent for another -of the detective’s machines. - -In it he hurried downtown across the Manhattan Bridge, and sped up -Flatbush Avenue. He had learned so much that he hoped to pick up -some more information. Nick might know something about Miss Worth’s -hospital, but he did not, and he wished to supply that deficiency if he -could. This time he had brought the detective’s chauffeur along with -him, and he remained with the car when Patsy left it a block or two -from his destination. - -It was an easy matter to find the private hospital, although the small -brass plate affixed to one of the big gate posts was the only outward -evidence that the building was more than a private residence. It was a -large, old-fashioned house, with broad verandas, standing some distance -back from the street, in the midst of extensive grounds. A driveway led -up to the spacious entrance, and in this drive, just in front of the -door, stood a handsome motor vehicle. Patsy’s experiences of the night -before had familiarized with just such a car, and his nerves tingled as -he caught sight of it. - -“Follansbee’s own machine, as I’m a living sinner,” he thought, with a -start. “The last time I saw that was when the doctor brought Stone home -with him in the small hours of the morning. This is interesting, to say -the least. That rascal hasn’t lost much time before paying a visit to -his ‘patient’ in the latter’s surroundings.” - -The sight of the car changed his plans. He had intended to pay a visit -to the private hospital at once, but now he decided to delay until -Follansbee had left. - -He strolled up and down the block for perhaps ten minutes, and at the -end of that time his patience was rewarded. He saw the diminutive, -sinister form of Stephen Follansbee emerge from Miss Worth’s and vanish -into the vehicle, which promptly wheeled and made its way back to the -city. When it had gone, Patsy sauntered slowly along the pavement, and -paused for a moment in front of the gate. He was anxious to find out -what kind of a place it was; and at last, putting on a bold front, he -entered the grounds, strode up the walk, and rang the bell. - -A neat-looking maid opened the door to him, and he was led into a quiet -waiting room. - -Patsy always had a story ready to fit the occasion, and it was -generally the most plausible sort; consequently, he was quite prepared -for the advent of Miss Worth herself, who proved to be a kindly-faced -woman of middle age, gray-haired and stately. - -He informed the lady that a friend of his was convalescent after a -fever, but that certain unavoidable noises in the neighborhood made -him nervous, and it seemed best to remove him to a more quiet place. -Patsy, it appeared, had taken upon himself to hunt up such a place, -and, having been told of Miss Worth’s, had called to inquire as to the -charges. - -His well-cut suit and his ingratiating manner had their effect. After -giving him the information he asked for, Miss Worth volunteered to show -him over the building, and Patsy spent fifteen minutes in going through -the wards. It was soon obvious to him that the private hospital was -a perfectly respectable place, and the well-bred face of Miss Worth -herself justified the opinion that she could have nothing in common -with the scoundrelly side of Stephen Follansbee. - -Presently the lady paused in front of a door and opened it. - -“There’s a new guest here,” she said: “a poor fellow who is recovering -from the effects of the drug habit.” - -Patsy glanced into the room and noted that there were two beds in -it. The one on the right was unoccupied, but in the left one lay the -figure of James Stone. The ex-miner’s eyes were closed, and his hands -stretched out on top of the coverlet were painfully clenched. - -“Our distinguished consultant, Doctor Stephen Follansbee, of St. -Swithin’s Hospital, has made a special study of that type of case,” -Miss Worth went on, as she closed the door. “The patient will soon -recover, and meanwhile your friend could have that other bed. It -happens to be the only one available just now.” - -“What luck!” thought Patsy. “It’s a good thing I took it into my head -to come over here. I hope the chief will appreciate all I’ve done. -Hanged if I can see how he thought he could handle this case alone.” - -Assuring Miss Worth that he would let her know as soon as possible of -his friend’s decision, he left the building. He was on tenterhooks now -to pour out the whole story to his chief, and as soon as he was out of -sight from the hospital windows, he hurried to the waiting car. - -“Start something!” he urged the chauffeur. “Open her up and let’s see -you burn up a little asphalt.” - - - - - CHAPTER XLI. - - NICK HAS A PLAN. - - -Darkness had descended when Patsy sprang up the steps of Nick Carter’s -house. He eagerly inquired for his chief, and learned, to his delight, -that he had returned and was in his study. The young assistant fairly -sprinted up the stairs, and burst into the room. - -“Well!” he ejaculated. “I began to think I’d never see you again.” - -“I usually bob up sooner or later,” was the answer. “What’s all this -you’ve been up to? How did you break into this game, I’d like to know?” - -“That’s just what I did—I broke in,” was the answer. “Chick put me up -to it. He was itching to have a hand in the affair, and had a hunch -that somebody ought to keep an eye on Follansbee. He couldn’t do it -himself, because you had left him in charge of affairs, and so I’ve -been losing my beauty sleep—and most of the rest—for several nights. -Nothing happened until last night, but since then things have been -coming so thick and fast that they’ve taken my breath away.” - -Nick tried to look stern. “You don’t seem to realize that this is a -breach of discipline,” he commented. - -“Now, chief, don’t be nasty about it,” Patsy pleaded. “Let me get this -out of my system. My private information is that you couldn’t have -done without me, and when I get through, I think you’ll agree that I -haven’t wasted my time.” - -The detective smiled slightly. “Go ahead and let’s hear it,” he said. -“You usually get your way in the end.” - -After some little beating around, young Garvan launched into an account -of his adventures from the time Follansbee and Stone had arrived at the -former’s house, until the last glimpse of the miner had been obtained -at the private hospital. The look of interest and satisfaction which -came into the great detective’s face assured Patsy that he was pardoned. - -As a matter of fact, the assistant’s report, coupled with what Nick had -learned for himself, brought the whole case to a focus, and made plain -much that had seemed obscure. - -“By George, my boy,” the chief commented at the end of the recital, -“you certainly have turned a trick or two, and I wish I had known -something about it before I bearded Follansbee in his den. If I had, it -would have put a very different face on that interview. I was all up in -the air about Stone, but now everything is clear enough and——” - -“Then you’re better off than I am, chief,” his assistant interrupted, -“for I can’t make head or tail of it. I thought it was Crawford that -that scoundrel Follansbee was plotting against, but it can hardly be -doubted that Stone is his victim—or one of them, at least.” - -“I will give you a little information to complete the exchange,” was -the answer. - -In a few brief sentences the detective gave Patsy his side of the -story, and the young man’s eyes fairly flashed as he heard the grim -details of the attempt on Winthrop Crawford’s life. - -“What a fiend that man Follansbee is!” Patsy exclaimed at the end. -“Thank Heaven you were on hand to ditch his scheme. But what do you -make of it now? What do you think Follansbee is up to in connection -with Stone?” - -“I can’t say offhand,” was the reply. “Not a little remains to be -seen. I had thought that Stone might be in hiding somewhere, suffering -from a guilty conscience; but, on the whole, I was inclined to believe -that Follansbee had drawn him into the net. Your revelations leave no -doubt of that, and seem to indicate that we have time enough to save -Stone. He needs saving, though, that’s certain. So far as I can tell, -Follansbee still believes that Stone injected the serum given him for -that purpose, and that Crawford is doomed. I was skating on thin ice -this afternoon in my interview with the fellow. I didn’t want him to -know that I had thwarted him, but I looked for him to guess it. - -“He ought to have realized at once that, after I had heard his -conversation with Stone, I wouldn’t have stood by and allowed the -latter to make the injection, knowing as I do what it would have meant. -Evidently, however, he thinks I didn’t interfere. He has Stone’s word -for it, of course, that the hypodermic was used as directed.” - -“That must be it,” agreed Patsy. “You were speaking of Follansbee’s -attitude toward Stone, though, and the urgent need of interference.” - -“Exactly. I was going to say that since the rascal apparently thinks -the injection was made as planned, he’s convinced he has a strangle -hold on Stone. He’s cleaned out the latter’s fortune, and can keep him -cowed by drugs and threats. That may be what he plans to do for the -present, in anticipation of Crawford’s death. Stone, as I told you, is -named as the chief beneficiary in Crawford’s will, and if Follansbee -could keep Stone alive and in his power until Crawford passes out, -there would be another half a million or so to angle for.” - -“Great Scott! You mean that Follansbee intends to wait until Stone -becomes Crawford’s legal heir, and then plans to swindle Stone out of -Crawford’s fortune, as well as the poor devil’s own?” - -“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least; and when that was accomplished, -there wouldn’t be any doubt about the next step. Stone would surely die -in turn, but in such a way that no one could prove anything suspicious -about his death.” - -Patsy whistled softly. “It’s a large order,” he remarked; “but that -check for four hundred and fifty thousand shows that Follansbee is -capable of thinking in big numbers. You’re probably right, therefore; -but there’s something about it that beats me.” - -“What’s that?” - -“I can’t understand how Follansbee would dare to go so far. It might -be impossible to prove anything, but the very fact that Stone had been -a patient of his, and that he had realized a huge sum through the -association would look pretty bad on the face of it; wouldn’t it? It -might not bring conviction, but it could hardly fail to be the means of -severing Follansbee from his job as the head of St. Swithin’s, and of -cutting off his practice. More than that, though, he’s aware that you -know what he’s up to, and that you’re right after him. I can’t conceive -of his going on with it under the circumstances.” - -Nick smiled grimly. “Follansbee is an extraordinary man,” he answered. -“As you say, he already knows that I have a lot of dangerous evidence -against him. That very thing, though, may drive him on to fresh crimes, -on the theory that he might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb. If -he thinks Crawford is doomed—as he evidently does—another life is of no -consequence. I suspect that he really counts on getting rid of me. He -implied as much this afternoon. If he tries that, though, he’ll have -his hands full, shrewd as he is.” - -Nick got up suddenly. “Enough of this,” he said. “We might keep on -theorizing all night, but I prefer action.” - -“What are you going to do?” - -“I’m going to try to sound Stone, if possible, and that’s where you’ll -come in.” He nodded to his assistant. “I’m going to make use of that -nice little introduction you prepared for me at Miss Worth’s,” he added -significantly. - -Patsy was on his feet at once. “You don’t mean to say——” he began. - -Nick smiled. “Precisely,” he replied. “I’m going to occupy that bed -next to Stone. I’ll be your convalescent friend.” - - - - - CHAPTER XLII. - - THE DETECTIVE ACQUIRES A WIFE. - - -“Now, then, my boy,” the detective went on, pointing to the telephone -on his desk, “you’ll oblige me by calling up Miss Worth and telling her -that your friend has agreed to place himself in her hands. Say that -he’ll arrive there about half past nine to-night.” - -Patsy eyed his chief doubtfully. “It’s a risky business,” he warned -him. “You’ll have to stay there for some time to keep up the bluff, and -Follansbee will probably visit Stone to-morrow. If the scoundrel should -recognize you——” - -“I’ll take that risk,” Nick put in; “but I don’t think he will. If I -can’t make use of a disguise that will deceive him, I ought to go out -of the business. It’s settled, anyway. I want you to accompany me to -Miss Worth’s and see me safely deposited.” - -“How long do you expect to stay there?” - -“I haven’t the slightest idea. That will depend on circumstances. -Perhaps I can get away after a day, but it may be a week, for all I -know.” And he left the room. - -Patsy nodded after the lithe, upright figure. “I’ll give you -twenty-four hours, chief,” he said to himself; “and if you’re not out -of that place by that time, I’ll be hanged if I don’t come and get you.” - -He turned to the desk, and, after consulting the telephone book, found -the number of Miss Worth’s private hospital. - -“Number two bed in Ward E will be reserved for your friend, Mr. -Bainbridge,” Miss Worth informed him over the wire. Gerald Bainbridge -was the name Patsy had given to Nick on the spur of the moment. - -About nine o’clock that evening young Garvan, who was fidgeting about -in the study, heard the door open softly. Some one entered the room. -He knew that it was his chief, but he was forced to think that the -disguise was one of the most successful Nick had ever attempted. He had -dressed himself in a suit that was a size or two too large for him. The -garments hung loosely on him, he stooped slightly, and it seemed as -though his shoulders were much thinner and narrower than was actually -the case. His cheeks looked hollow and his eyes had dark rings around -them that seemed to indicate a weakened frame and long hours on a sick -bed. A straggling beard, badly in need of trimming, covered his cheeks -and chin. It was by no means an ordinary false one, but one of Nick’s -own invention—of the kind used by him when the occasion called for -extraordinary care against detection. - -He knew that he would be in charge of a nurse, and that a commonplace -disguise would not stand the close inspection he would be obliged -to undergo. It would have taken a Nick Carter himself, however, to -discover that that beard was artificial. It had been put on with a -great deal of care, and the thin substance into which the hairs were -embedded so closely resembled the human skin in hue and texture that it -was almost impossible to tell where one began and the other left off. -Ordinary washing would not effect it in the least, and yet it could be -removed in fifteen minutes’ time—if one knew how. It was the same with -the wig. - -He was leaning heavily on a stout walking stick, and caught the look of -admiration in Patsy’s eyes. - -“Well, will I do?” he asked. - -His assistant drew a deep breath. “You’re the real thing,” was the -enthusiastic comment. “I never saw you turn out anything better than -that.” - -A moment later Ida Jones, Nick’s beautiful woman assistant, entered -the room. She, too, was to play a part in the sketch that had been so -hastily staged. Nick waved one trembling hand toward her. - -“For an old friend, my boy, you don’t seem to be on your job. Is it -possible you don’t recognize ‘Mrs. Bainbridge?’” - -Patsy looked bewildered for a moment, and then broke into a grin. “Mrs. -Bainbridge, eh?” he queried. “So you’ve taken a wife for the occasion, -have you? Is she going with us?” - -“Of course. She’s devoted to her husband, and it wouldn’t do, you know, -for you to take me there alone. We’ll have to have a woman along to -fuss over me and make the thing seem real.” - -The young assistant’s grin broadened. “Well, I must say I admire your -taste,” he remarked, with a wink. “I could have told you long ago that -Ida is just the girl for you.” - -Miss Jones laughed. “None of that, Patsy,” she said laughingly. “If the -chief ever comes to think of me as a girl, he’ll fire me as sure as -fate.” - -Nick looked at her admiringly. “I’m not quite as bad as that, Ida,” he -said. “Give me credit, please, for knowing that you’re a girl, and a -remarkably attractive one. But you’re a corking good detective, also, -and I’m afraid that interests me more. No more nonsense now, you two. -It’s time to go.” - -A couple of travel-worn suit cases had been provided and packed. -Catching these up, Patsy went off down the stairs, followed by Nick and -the girl. - -About half an hour later their machine—a hired taxi—halted at Miss -Worth’s steps. Patsy and the girl jumped out and solicitously helped -their companion to alight, while the chauffeur rang the bell. Miss -Worth herself followed the servant to the door, and all concerned -played their parts to perfection. Patsy was a rather officious, but -tender-hearted friend. Ida Jones made a beautiful and devoted wife, -while Nick assumed a querulous voice and a crotchety manner which went -well with his apparent weakness. - -“I don’t want any nurses fussing about me, except when it is absolutely -necessary,” he declared. “I’ve had quite enough of nurses. I want just -a quiet, peaceful time, you understand?” - -Miss Worth assured him that he would have no cause to complain of -overattention, and gave Mrs. Bainbridge a reassuring look behind his -back. - -Patsy was having all he could do to keep a straight face, and, indeed, -when the others had left the reception room, he felt obliged to relax -and indulge in a hearty, though silent, laugh. In a moment he became -serious enough, however, when he remembered Follansbee’s threats and -the defenseless position in which his chief was placing himself. - -Ida Jones had, of course, accompanied her “husband” to the room which -he was to occupy. She had declared that she must see it, in order to -be sure that he would be comfortable. Five minutes later, however, she -returned to the waiting room, still escorted by Miss Worth, and, after -leaving many parting injunctions, she accompanied Patsy out of the -house. - -“When the taxi starts, you must applaud, Patsy,” she whispered, as they -crossed the veranda. “I flatter myself that I did that fairly well.” - -“You certainly did,” he answered. “You could give points to most -wives—except mine.” - -He was thinking of something else though—of Stephen Follansbee’s -diabolical cleverness. - -“Twenty-four hours is the most I’ll allow the chief,” he said, -repeating his resolve. “If he isn’t out by that time—unless I know -everything is all right—I’m going to stick a finger into the pie once -more.” - - - - - CHAPTER XLIII. - - THE HYPNOTIC SPELL. - - -“That fiend is slowly killing him!” It was Sunday evening, just after -eight o’clock, and the little ward in which Nick Carter found himself -was deserted save for its two inmates. On his bed lay James Stone, -motionless and mute, just as he had lain there all through the day. -Over him bent Nick, and there was a pitying look in the detective’s -eyes as they rested on the white face. - -Dropping his hand gently on Stone’s eyelids, he lifted them and looked -at the set, fixed pupils. They were small, almost the size of pin heads. - -“There isn’t the slightest doubt about it,” the detective decided, -“this man is under some powerful narcotic, which means that Follansbee -has his own reasons for keeping him thus. I’d give a good deal to know -just what is at the bottom of it, but, after all, it doesn’t greatly -matter. I know that Follansbee means no good, and I’m here to see that -he fails; that’s the important thing.” - -During the day Nick had kept to his room, and the nurse, a gentle -little woman, had decided that he was a model patient. He had, however, -ventured to make a few inquiries about the inanimate man in the next -bed, and the nurse had given him several details. - -“He came from St. Swithin’s,” she said. “Doctor Follansbee—the head -there you know—is looking after him, so he must consider it a very -important case. The doctor says that he doesn’t expect the patient to -awaken for at least another twenty-four hours. He’s in an unusual sort -of coma.” - -There was nothing to be gained by revealing his suspicions to the -nurse; therefore Nick kept his peace. He knew, however, that Follansbee -would have to return again to see the man, and it was for that visit he -was waiting—waiting with an impatience which proved the hold the case -had upon him. - -Another hour passed before Stephen Follansbee’s voice warned him that -the long-looked-for moment had arrived. The detective had been sitting -up much of the time, but at the sound he stripped off his bath robe and -jumped into bed, the nurse being absent. In a few seconds the covers -were pulled up to his chin and his face was turned to the wall. - -It would have taken a clever observer to notice that on the wall, -almost level with his head, hung a small mirror. It had been tilted at -such an angle that the detective, although he had his back to the bed -occupied by Stone, could see everything that happened there. - -The door opened, and he heard a soft footfall. He lay quite still, -breathing easily and regularly. - -There was only one light in the room, a shaded bulb, which was -suspended above a small table that stood close to Stone’s bed. The rest -of the little ward was in semidarkness. - -“Another patient?” - -The detective recognized an undercurrent of disagreeable surprise, if -not of anger, in Follansbee’s voice. - -Miss Worth had accompanied the physician into the room. “Yes, a typhoid -convalescent,” she answered, in a low voice. “He came last night, and -there was no other place to put him. He seems to be asleep now.” - -Nick could hear Follansbee’s footfalls as the latter came across the -room and halted by the side of the bed. The hawklike face bent over him -and the beady eyes searched his features for a few moments. - -The pains which Nick had taken in his disguise justified themselves, -however, and Follansbee presently straightened up. - -“Very well, Miss Worth,” he said, turning to the matron, “you need not -wait. If I want the nurse I shall call her.” - -The woman left the ward. Nick heard the door close softly behind her, -and then he cautiously opened his eyes a little and glanced up at the -tilted mirror. It caught the glow from the electric bulb, and he could -see every movement that the doctor made—could even mark the sinister -expression on Follansbee’s face. The head of St. Swithin’s had been -carrying a little bag, and this he placed on the table, bringing out -various articles and placing them in readiness. Then, from the inside -pocket, the scientific criminal withdrew a small case containing a -number of glass tubes. - -When his preparations were completed, Follansbee seated himself on the -bed and made a swift examination of the helpless man. The expression -on his face was almost fiendish now, and the lids were curled in a -mocking smile. Evidently the callous scoundrel was gloating over his -triumph. - -Nick held his breath as he watched, for Follansbee had set to work -now. The swift, capable fingers reached out toward the little table, -selected one of the vials, and dropped its contents on a little pad of -cotton. When the pad was saturated, the doctor bent closer over Stone -in such a way that the detective was unable to see what happened; but a -moment later, when Follansbee straightened up, the first sign of life -appeared in the motionless figure. - -The head moved restlessly from side to side and the eyes fluttered -open. Very slowly Stone lifted himself up until he was in a sitting -position. His eyes were wide and staring now, and he looked about him -with the half-vacant expression of a dazed man. - -Follansbee had stepped back as Stone sat up, and now, reseating himself -on the edge of the bed, the criminal craned his lean neck forward, so -that his face was on a level with that of his victim. - -Stone’s eyes, which had been wavering about the room, seemed to -fix themselves on the hard, little ones which met them; whereupon -Follansbee raised his hands and began to make passes in front of the -staring, intent face. - -The meaning of his actions was at once revealed to the detective: -Follansbee had brought his man back to life only to hypnotize him. For -what purpose? - - - - - CHAPTER XLIV. - - CHICK COMES TO GRIEF. - - -With every nerve on the alert, Nick Carter waited. - -He was prepared to interfere at once, whatever the cost, if he should -feel Stone was in any immediate peril; but he was curious to hear and -see all he could. Suddenly a thin voice pierced the silence. - -“You are well now,” it announced. “You feel your strength returning.” - -It was Stephen Follansbee who spoke, and the slow incisiveness of the -tone seemed to cut through the stillness of the room like a knife. - -“Yes. I feel it. I’m much better now—almost well.” - -Nick hardly recognized Stone’s voice, so changed was it. It sounded -thin and vague, as though the man were hardly sure of himself, as if he -had been in solitary confinement for months. - -It was by no means the first time that the detective had witnessed a -hypnotist at work, but seldom had he experienced a more dramatic thrill -than he did at that moment. The uncanny power gave him the creeps. - -“To-morrow you will get up and go back to the Hotel Windermere,” -Follansbee went on. His eyes never left those of his victim, and he -was speaking slowly and distinctly, so that the entranced brain would -follow each detail. - -“Remember that to-morrow is Monday,” he said. “The bank people will -want to see you, and you must tell them that the check for four hundred -and fifty thousand dollars is quite correct—that it covers not only -professional fees, but a business transaction, the nature of which you -are not at liberty to reveal.” - -Subtle and powerful though the influence was that held the poor, abused -brain in thrall, Nick saw a shaft of doubt cross Stone’s face. - -“The check for forty-five thousand,” the miner corrected, in his -far-off tone. - -Follansbee’s face went suddenly livid. “Not forty-five thousand!” he -cried. “Four hundred and fifty thousand. Don’t you remember?” - -Again the clawlike hands moved in swift passes in front of the rigid -features, and the doubt vanished from the reflected face as Nick -watched it. - -“Yes, four hundred and fifty thousand,” murmured Stone mechanically, as -if talking in his sleep. - -An expression of exultant content possessed Stephen Follansbee’s -features. It was victory for him now. With this man under his complete -control, ready to carry out his desires, he believed his position was -secure. - -If Stone appeared at the bank and authorized the transaction, the chief -weapon which still remained in Nicholas Carter’s grasp would be torn -away. - -The plotter started to get up from the bed. “You are——” he began. - -But at that moment the faint click of some hard object sounded -against the glass of the window, and was accompanied by a smothered -exclamation. Follansbee wheeled abruptly and peered through the -opening. Outlined against the background of glass, he—and the detective -as well—saw a head and shoulders. - -With a swiftness that few would have given him credit for, the doctor -darted across the room and threw up the sash; then his long arms shot -out and closed around the intruder’s throat, strangling the words -that rose to his lips. The swift movement brought Nick round, and he -stared at the open window out of which Follansbee was leaning, his -outstretched arm thrust into the darkness. - -Over the rounded shoulders the detective caught sight of a familiar -face involuntarily twisted in pain. It was that of Chick Carter. - -For the fraction of a second Nick found himself surprised that it was -not Patsy. It would have been quite like the latter, especially after -his unauthorized activities of the last few nights, to have come there -to see for himself how things were going; but Chick’s appearance was -unlooked for. - -Nick had heard and seen enough, however, and even had the interruption -been far more unwelcome, he would not have remained idle. With a swift -bound he was on his feet, and then, darting across the room, he hurled -himself headlong at Follansbee. - -He was just in time. - -Patsy Garvan had talked over his affairs with Chick, and the latter had -decided to accompany him to Miss Worth’s hospital at the expiration of -twenty-four hours. They had entered the grounds at the rear, and had -made their way without detection to a point beneath the window which -Patsy knew belonged to Ward E. - -A stout vine climbed the wall beside the window, and Patsy had wanted -to make use of it in order to gain a view of the room, but Nick’s first -assistant had used his authority as Patsy’s senior, and made the ascent -instead. The ward was on the second floor, but the ground fell away -from the building on that side, and was about ten feet below the level -of the main floor; consequently there was a nasty drop from the second -floor to the concrete walk beneath. - -The climb had been an easy matter for Chick, and no more risky than the -stunts he did every day. When he had reached the level of the window -sill, however, he had found the footing rather precarious. The main -stem of the vine was three feet or more to the left of the window. He -was obliged to hold this with his left hand and lean far out, with -one foot extended along a branch of the vine. In this way he was able -to get his right hand on the window sill and to pull the vine over -far enough so that he could look into the window. But his efforts had -loosened the vine, and when he felt it giving way, he made a sudden -thoughtless move, which brought one of the buttons of his coat sleeve -in sharp contact with the pane. - -That was the sound Nick and Follansbee had heard. - -The doctor’s lightninglike attack had taken Chick by surprise, and the -detective, who was clawing for a fresh hold had been unable to resist. -He had let go of the vine the moment the window was opened, and had -clutched the inner edge of the sill with both hands; but while he was -doing so, Follansbee had secured a strangle hold, and begun to push his -head backward, with the obvious intention of making him let go of the -sill. - -The rascally physician would have been no match for Chick under -ordinary circumstances, but that situation was a different matter. The -young detective was absolutely defenseless. - -It was all over in a few seconds, but they seemed like years to -Carter’s assistant. - -“A-h-h!” - -It was a thin, frenzied scream that went up. Chick felt the muscular -fingers relax from his throat, and dimly saw the long, lean arms, -waving wildly, drawn in from the window. For a few moments he hung -there, gasping, then, inch by inch he dragged himself up until his head -was level with the sill again, and his feet had found a support on a -little ledge which hooded the first-floor window. - -Another heave brought him higher, and he dizzily drew himself over the -sill somehow, anyhow, into the room. For an instant he lay where he had -fallen, while the interior of the room danced about him. Then, as his -eyes cleared, he saw two figures writhing on the floor, locked in each -other’s arms. Summoning all of his strength, and gritting his teeth, he -rose to his feet and staggered forward. - -It seemed as if the Fury possessed Follansbee, for he fought like a -wild cat, and it was all Carter could do to hold him down. But the -detective won at last, and as Chick scrambled to his feet, Follansbee -was stretched out flat on his back, while the chief, with one hand on -the heaving chest, pinned the miscreant to the floor. - -“It looks like a—a case of handcuffs, chief,” Chick said, panting for -breath. - - - - - CHAPTER XLV. - - “HEAVEN HELP ME.” - - -Nick Carter looked up at his assistant’s words, then nodded toward the -door. “Lock that!” he commanded. “Quick!” - -Chick made his way dizzily across the room and turned the key in the -lock. He knew the meaning of the move. The noise of the struggle might -have been heard, and if so, the room might be invaded at any moment. It -was evident that the chief did not wish such an interruption. As soon -as Chick had locked the door, he returned to his chief’s side. - -“Now, watch this fellow,” the detective directed. “Don’t let him make -even a move to get up.” - -As he spoke, Nick got to his feet, and, striding to the wall, switched -on a couple more lights, flooding the room. - -Follansbee lay where he had been left, but his evil eyes searched the -features of the pajama-clad detective. Seemingly he had guessed his -identity, but had failed to verify his suspicions from the bearded face. - -“Who are you?” he demanded. “And what does this mean?” - -Simultaneously he started to rise on one elbow, but Chick prodded him -in the ribs with his foot. - -“Stay where you are!” he advised. “I have my eye on you, you know.” - -“It’s too much trouble to take off this beard, Follansbee,” Nick -replied evenly. “I hardly think that’s necessary, anyhow. I have a -notion you could guess at my name without much trouble, and that the -guess would be right. I am Nick Carter, not at yours—but at James -Stone’s—service.” - -There was a tense, dramatic silence; then suddenly, with a curious, -gurgling sound, another figure came to the stage. - -Stone, swinging himself out of bed, rose to his feet unsteadily. The -blind, vacant look had vanished. A perplexed, troubled frown had -taken its place, and Stone turned his head slowly, eying each of the -occupants of the room in turn. - -“What is this?” he asked, in a hesitating voice. “What does it mean?” - -Follansbee screwed himself round on the floor and faced the man. Chick -caught the look on the doctor’s face, and guessed what he was up to. - -“No, you don’t,” he remarked, stooping down and jerking Follansbee -about by the collar. “Keep your eyes off him and cut out your Svengali -tricks.” - -There was no doubt that Stone was coming out from the influence of -the spell which had been laid upon him, but he would doubtless have -succumbed again had it not been for Chick’s quick move. As it was, he -had already looked at Follansbee and recognized him. - -The ex-miner passed his hands across his eyes. “I thought I’d seen the -last of you,” he jerked out. “I remember leaving your house, but after -that—after that——” - -His voice faltered and broke, and his look was pathetic as he turned -toward Nick Carter. - -“I seem to recognize you,” he went on. “I wonder if you are my friend. -Can you explain?” - -A look of hope sprang into the detective’s eyes, and he nodded his head -eagerly. - -“I think I can,” he answered. “You have been made a victim of a -cold-blooded rascal. I need not tell you what happened at the Hotel -Windermere, I suppose?” - -James Stone’s awakening memory brought the scene back to him, and he -shuddered. - -“I know—I know,” he said, dropping back quickly on the side of his bed. -“I—I tried to murder poor old Win. But you saved me from that, didn’t -you?” - -He looked appealingly at Follansbee. The latter could no longer bear -his ignominious position on the floor. With a look of defiance he -scrambled to his feet, and Carter and his assistant allowed him to do -so, although they ranged themselves on either side of him. - -Follansbee knew that he was in desperate straits, but he believed that -his star was not yet ready to set. He made one mistake, however; for -he imagined that Winthrop Crawford had been inoculated with the deadly -disease. - -“You are mistaken,” he said daringly. “By this time Crawford must be -suffering from the disease that you placed in his veins.” - -“No, no, no! You don’t mean that—you can’t mean it!” Stone broke out, -in a horrified voice. “You told me that the syringe was filled with a -harmless liquid.” - -“That was a lie,” was the brutal answer. - -A groan burst from the lips of the tall man, and his lean figure seemed -to shrivel. “Then Heaven help me!” he moaned. “I’ve killed the man I -love best in the world.” - -“No, you have not!” - - - - - CHAPTER XLVI. - - THE BOND IS MENDED. - - -Crisply, cuttingly, the words came from Nick Carter’s lips, and -Follansbee wheeled on him in a flash. - -“It was no fault of Follansbee that you did not carry out the vile -scheme his cunning brain had devised,” Nick went on. “I was fortunately -able to thwart him and to thwart your irresponsible aims of the moment -at the same time.” - -Then, in quiet tones, the detective told the whole story, which was -listened to in a breathless silence by the others. - -“At this moment,” the detective concluded, “Winthrop Crawford is -perfectly well, and is looking forward eagerly to meeting his old -friend again.” - -“You—you mean that he forgives me?” - -“I do,” was the reassuring answer. “He has forgiven you again and again -because he knew you were not yourself, and because he’s one man in ten -thousand.” - -Stephen Follansbee’s sharp voice cut in. “This is all very -interesting,” he said sarcastically, “but you will oblige me, Carter, -by unlocking that door and letting me go my way.” - -The two men measured glances for a moment. - -“Do you imagine that you have sufficient evidence against me?” -Follansbee went on cynically. “If you do, you’re destined to meet with -a shock. Don’t forget that you may have to bring both of these men into -it along with me, especially Stone—for, by your own statement, it was -he who attempted to kill his partner.” - -The detective turned to Stone. - -“A check signed by you for the sum of four hundred and fifty thousand -dollars, payable to this man, was presented at the bank yesterday, and -cashed. Do you know anything about it?” - -The miner lifted his head. - -“No, no! I made out a check, but it was only forty-five thousand. That -was bad enough, but—what day is this?” - -“This is Sunday, the twenty-sixth,” Nick answered. - -“Then my check cannot have been cashed,” Stone said, with a great sigh -of relief. “You must be mistaken, for I distinctly remember that I -dated it the twenty-seventh.” - -“In that case, Mr. Stone,” said Nick, “you have a chance of getting -even with this fellow. I made no mistake in saying that he cashed a -check for four hundred and fifty thousand dollars yesterday, but it -was dated the twenty-fifth. Circumstances have conspired with his -own cunning to save him from the charge of being an accessory to a -murder, but he won’t find it so easy to avoid the consequences of this -other crime. We can’t accuse him of forgery, because the signature -is evidently yours, but we can make out a complete check-raising -case against him without the slightest trouble. A peculiar kind of -‘disappearing ink’ was used. I’ve already brought out your original -writing in one place, Stone, and I can bring out all of it by the same -process. That will doubtless corroborate you as to the amount and -date—and Stephen Follansbee will come off his perch.” - -The famous specialist gave a peculiar strangled sound in his throat and -his hands dropped to his side. - -“You’ve won, Carter,” he said, his voice quavering. “I’ll return the -money—every cent of it, if you will drop the case—and you will have -to do that. The whole thing will come out if you try to press it, -and Stone will be branded as a man who was once under treatment for -insanity.” - -“You’re right, Follansbee, in part,” Nick told him quietly. “I’ve won, -and the time has come for you to throw down your arms. Don’t be too -sure about the rest, though. I don’t believe my friend Stone here has -any desire to let you go free, if he can be shown a way to prevent it. -Isn’t that right, Stone?” - -“It certainly is,” was the emphatic response. “If it is a possible -thing to make this infernal scamp pay for what he has done, I say go -ahead, by all means; but I don’t see how——” - -“It’s my business to find a way,” Nick interrupted, “and I think I -have.” - -“How?” Stone eagerly demanded. - -“By keeping this fact in mind,” the chief explained: “Follansbee isn’t -going to bite off his nose to spite his face. He says that everything -will come out, but that’s nonsense, and he knows it. We have a clear -case against him, and we can press it without lugging in anything that -we don’t want to be spread on the records. All the judge and jury -need to know is that you went to Follansbee for professional advice -and treatment—it doesn’t matter for what. His lawyers will know that -the case is going against him, anyway, and all their energies will be -directed toward obtaining as light a sentence as possible. That being -so, they will be very careful to keep quiet about the nature of the -trouble that brought you to him.” - -“I don’t see why,” confessed Stone. - -“It’s perfectly obvious,” Nick insisted. “Any decent lawyer would know -that Follansbee would get a much more severe sentence if it came out -that he had attempted to victimize an irresponsible man; to swindle one -who was temporarily incompetent, and take away practically his entire -fortune. That would be the last straw.” - -“I see!” Stone cried excitedly. “It would be even more to the interest -of the defense to keep dark on that subject than it would for the -prosecution.” - -“Then you will get satisfaction, as well as your money back,” Nick told -him confidently; and then added to the cowed wretch at his side: “The -jig is up, Follansbee. I won’t lock you up until you turn over your -loot; but you may as well write out your resignation as head of St. -Swithin’s, and your millionaire patients will have to hunt for some one -else to doctor them. You will find it inconvenient to discharge your -professional duties in a cell.” - -Apparently the detective plucked a pair of handcuffs from the air, and, -before Follansbee knew what was happening, they were snapped on his -wrists. - -A few hours later—some time after midnight—two bronzed men met and -clasped hands in Nick Carter’s study. They did not say much at first, -but the detective’s heart swelled as he watched them. - -The partners had been reunited, and the broken bond had been welded -anew. - - - THE END. - - -No. 1006 of the NEW MAGNET LIBRARY, entitled “The Crime of the French -Café,” by Nicholas Carter, is a rattling good story, full of thrills, -in which Nick Carter shows again his extraordinary skill in ferreting -out the deep schemes of the most wily plotters, and his cool courage in -dealing with the most desperate criminals. - - - - - The Dealer - - -who handles the STREET & SMITH NOVELS is a man worth patronizing. The -fact that he does handle our books proves that he has considered the -merits of paper-covered lines, and has decided that the STREET & SMITH -NOVELS are superior to all others. - -He has looked into the question of the morality of the paper-covered -book, for instance, and feels that he is perfectly safe in handing one -of our novels to any one, because he has our assurance that nothing -except clean, wholesome literature finds its way into our lines. - -Therefore, the STREET & SMITH NOVEL dealer is a careful and wise -tradesman, and it is fair to assume selects the other articles he -has for sale with the same degree of intelligence as he does his -paper-covered books. - -Deal with the STREET & SMITH NOVEL dealer. - - - STREET & SMITH CORPORATION - 79 Seventh Avenue New York City - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BROKEN BOND *** - -***** This file should be named 63143-0.txt or 63143-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - https://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/1/4/63143/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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. -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: A Broken Bond<br /> -The Man Without Morals</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Nicholas Carter</div> -<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 7, 2020 [eBook #63143]<br /> -[Most recently updated: April 15, 2021]</div> -<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> -<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Edwards, Nahum Maso i Carcases, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div> -<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BROKEN BOND ***</div> - -<div class="body-with"> - - -<hr class="tn" /> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="no-indent center bold">Transcriber’s Notes:</p> -<p>The original spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation have been retained, with the exception -of apparent typographical errors which have been corrected.</p> -<p>For convenience, a table of contents, which is not present in the original, has been included.</p> -</div> -<hr class="tn" /> - - - - -<div class="titlepage"> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> -<img src="images/illus01.jpg" width="200" height="289" alt="Cover" /> -</div> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="no-indent center bold xlarge p2">CONTENTS</p> - -<table summary="Contents"> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt"><span class="smaller">CHAPTER</span></td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr"> </td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">I.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">A SHOT FROM AMBUSH.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#I">5</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">II.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE WITNESS MAKES CONDITIONS.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#II">10</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">III.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">AN UNFORTUNATE LETTER.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#III">16</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">IV.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">CRAWFORD IS TROUBLED.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#IV">22</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">V.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">ANOTHER MURDEROUS ATTACK.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#V">29</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">VI.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE LOVE OF COMRADES.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#VI">34</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">VII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">FOLLANSBEE HITS THE NAIL.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#VII">38</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">VIII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">“NAME YOUR PRICE.”</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#VIII">44</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">IX.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">A “FAIR” OFFER.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#IX">49</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">X.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE RAISED CHECK.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#X">53</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XI.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">A DISTINGUISHED SCOUNDREL.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XI">57</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE DEADLY TUBE.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XII">63</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XIII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">CHICK SIGHTS THE “BUZZARD.”</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XIII">67</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XIV.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">NICK’S ASSISTANT DECAMPS.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XIV">72</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XV.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">A BAD COMBINATION.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XV">77</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XVI.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">A BIRD OF ILL OMEN.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XVI">80</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XVII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">NICK CARTER MISCALCULATES.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XVII">84</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XVIII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">ON THE FIRE ESCAPE.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XVIII">88</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XIX.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">A FIENDISH PLOT.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XIX">94</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XX.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">QUICK WORK IS NECESSARY.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XX">98</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXI.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">IN NEED OF EVIDENCE.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXI">103</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">HELP FROM THE HOUSE DETECTIVE.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXII">107</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXIII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE HYPODERMIC.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXIII">112</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXIV.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE PLUNGER REACHES HOME.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXIV">116</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXV.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE MADMAN’S GET-AWAY.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXV">120</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXVI.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE AWAKENING OF REMORSE.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXVI">125</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXVII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">AN ASTOUNDING STATEMENT.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXVII">128</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXVIII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">“YOU’VE SAVED ME FROM MYSELF!”</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXVIII">132</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXIX.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">A STRANGE DEVELOPMENT.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXIX">136</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXX.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">AN UNLUCKY MORNING.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXX">141</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXXI.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">NICK HAS A HUNCH.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXXI">146</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXXII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">“THE MAN WHO NEVER LETS GO.”</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXXII">152</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXXIII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">WILL HE SCORE?</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXXIII">157</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXXIV.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">A VISIT TO THE BANK.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXXIV">161</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXXV.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE DOCTOR GETS A SURPRISE.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXXV">166</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXXVI.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">SOME PLAIN TRUTHS.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXXVI">173</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXXVII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">FOLLANSBEE REACHES THE LIMIT.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXXVII">177</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXXVIII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">NICK IS BALKED.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXXVIII">182</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XXXIX.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">PATSY TRACES THE AMBULANCE.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XXXIX">188</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XL.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE PRIVATE HOSPITAL.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XL">192</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XLI.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">NICK HAS A PLAN.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XLI">198</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XLII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE DETECTIVE ACQUIRES A WIFE.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XLII">203</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XLIII.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE HYPNOTIC SPELL.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XLIII">208</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XLIV.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">CHICK COMES TO GRIEF.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XLIV">212</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XLV.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">“HEAVEN HELP ME.”</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XLV">217</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr tdt">XLVI.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdpr">THE BOND IS MENDED.</td> - <td class="tdr tdb"><a href="#XLVI">220</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="no-indent bold center large p2">NICK CARTER STORIES</p> - -<p class="no-indent bold center xxlarge">New Magnet Library</p> - -<p class="no-indent bold center">Not a Dull Book in This List</p> - - -<p class="p2">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 troubles and landed the criminal just where -he should be—behind the bars.</p> - -<p>The author of these stories knew more about writing detective stories -than any other single person.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<table summary="Nick Carter Stories"> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdc"><em>ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT</em></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">850—Wanted: A Clew</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">851—A Tangled Skein</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">852—The Bullion Mystery</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">853—The Man of Riddles</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">854—A Miscarriage of Justice</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">855—The Gloved Hand</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">856—Spoilers and the Spoils</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">857—The Deeper Game</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">858—Bolts from Blue Skies</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">859—Unseen Foes</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">860—Knaves in High Places</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">861—The Microbe of Crime</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">862—In the Toils of Fear</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">863—A Heritage of Trouble</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">864—Called to Account</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">865—The Just and the Unjust</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">866—Instinct at Fault</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">867—A Rogue Worth Trapping</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">868—A Rope of Slender Threads</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">869—The Last Call</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">870—The Spoils of Chance</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">871—A Struggle With Destiny</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">872—The Slave of Crime</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">873—The Crook’s Blind</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">874—A Rascal of Quality</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">875—With Shackles of Fire</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">876—The Man Who Changed Faces</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">877—The Fixed Alibi</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">878—Out With the Tide</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">879—The Soul Destroyers</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">880—The Wages of Rascality</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">881—Birds of Prey</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">882—When Destruction Threatens</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">883—The Keeper of Black Hounds</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">884—The Door of Doubt</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">885—The Wolf Within</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">886—A Perilous Parole</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">887—The Trail of the Finger Prints</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">888—Dodging the Law</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">889—A Crime in Paradise</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">890—On the Ragged Edge</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">891—The Red God of Tragedy</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">892—The Man Who Paid</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">893—The Blind Man’s Daughter</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">894—One Object in Life</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">895—As a Crook Sows</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">896—In Record Time</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">897—Held in Suspense</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">898—The $100,000 Kiss</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">899—Just One Slip</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">900—On a Million-dollar Trail</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">901—A Weird Treasure</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">902—The Middle Link</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">903—To the Ends of the Earth</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">904—When Honors Pall</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">905—The Yellow Brand</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">906—A New Serpent in Eden</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">907—When Brave Men Tremble</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">908—A Test of Courage</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">909—Where Peril Beckons</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">910—The Gargoni Girdle</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">911—Rascals & Co.</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">912—Too Late to Talk</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">913—Satan’s Apt Pupil</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">914—The Girl Prisoner</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">915—The Danger of Folly</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">916—One Shipwreck Too Many</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">917—Scourged by Fear</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">918—The Red Plague</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">919—Scoundrels Rampant</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">920—From Clew to Clew</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">921—When Rogues Conspire</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">922—Twelve in a Grave</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">923—The Great Opium Case</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">924—A Conspiracy of Rumors</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">925—A Klondike Claim</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">926—The Evil Formula</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">927—The Man of Many Faces</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">928—The Great Enigma</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">929—The Burden of Proof</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">930—The Stolen Brain</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">931—A Titled Counterfeiter</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">932—The Magic Necklace</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">933—’Round the World for a Quarter</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">934—Over the Edge of the World</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">935—In the Grip of Fate</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">936—The Case of Many Clews</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">937—The Sealed Door</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh tdpr">938—Nick Carter and the Green Goods Men</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">939—The Man Without a Will</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">940—Tracked Across the Atlantic</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">941—A Clew From the Unknown</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">942—The Crime of a Countess</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">943—A Mixed Up Mess</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">944—The Great Money Order Swindle</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">945—The Adder’s Brood</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">946—A Wall Street Haul</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">947—For a Pawned Crown</td> - <td class="tdl tdt tdh">By Nicholas Carter</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px; border: 1px solid;"> -<img src="images/illus02.jpg" width="200" height="327" alt="Title Page" /> -</div> -</div> - - -<h1>A BROKEN BOND</h1> - -<p class="no-indent center">OR,</p> - -<p class="no-indent center xlarge p1">THE MAN WITHOUT MORALS</p> - -<p class="no-indent center p2">BY</p> - -<p class="no-indent center xlarge">NICHOLAS CARTER</p> - -<p class="no-indent center">Author of the celebrated stories of Nick Carter’s adventures, which -are published exclusively in the <span class="smcap">New Magnet Library</span>, conceded -to be among the best detective tales ever written.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 82px;"> -<img src="images/illus03.jpg" width="82" height="100" alt="Illustration" /> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent center">STREET & SMITH CORPORATION -<br /> -<small>PUBLISHERS</small> -<br /> -79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p> - -<p class="no-indent center p2"> -Copyright, 1917 -<br /> -By STREET & SMITH Corporation</p> - -<hr class="title-xshort" /> - -<p class="no-indent center">A Broken Bond</p> - - -<p class="no-indent center p2">(Printed in the United States of America)</p> - -<p class="no-indent center p1">All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign -languages, including the Scandinavian.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> - -<p class="no-indent center bold xxlarge p2">A BROKEN BOND.</p> - - -<h2 class="no-break" id="I">CHAPTER I. -<br /> -<small>A SHOT FROM AMBUSH.</small></h2> - - -<p>Behind a big rock which looked down over the wide, -straggling road that ran upward through the mountains -crouched a long, lean figure. Snuggled against -his right shoulder was a rifle, and the bearded face -beneath the broad-brimmed panama was turned toward -the roadway below. The hot sun beat down remorselessly, -and its blinding rays were reflected from the -rocks. Perspiration poured down the man’s face, and -now and then he moved impatiently to brush away -some buzzing insect. His head was raised slightly -above the level of the rock, and from his point of vantage -a splendid panorama spread out beneath him.</p> - -<p>To his left lay the mountains, blue, remote, and -full of rugged dignity all their own. To his right, a -fertile South American valley revealed itself in the -shimmering distance. Occasionally, as a light puff of -wind came up from the lowlands, it brought with -it the dull, heavy noise of an engine at work.</p> - -<p>Half an hour passed, and then the first sign of -life was revealed in the roadway below. There appeared -round a bend a long line of mules, each of -them burdened with two big packs. In front of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -train of mules walked a white man clad in dingy -overalls.</p> - -<p>The figure crouching behind the rock moved slightly -and seemed to grow tense and expectant, while the eyes -in the bearded face glinted as they peered down at the -road.</p> - -<p>Nothing happened, however. The mules plodded -on, with their leader striding away ahead of them, -and the lonely sentinel watched them until they had -passed down the road and had vanished below the -level of the rise which led them on to the plains.</p> - -<p>“He ought to be coming soon now.”</p> - -<p>The man spoke aloud, and there was a curious, -metallic sound in his rasping voice.</p> - -<p>Ten minutes passed, and then the clear, drumming -sound of a horse’s hoofs came to him, and presently -around the same jagged spur there appeared the figure -of a man on horseback. He was riding along at a -good pace, but the reins were lying loosely across the -horse’s neck, and the animal was picking its way unguided -down the rough surface of the road. Evidently -it was on a familiar trail.</p> - -<p>At the sight, the lurking figure grew tenser still, -and the sound of a low growl, almost animal-like in -character, might have been heard. Slowly the rifle -was nestled closer to the shoulder. The panama hat, -being too conspicuous, was pulled off and dropped -behind him, after which the bare, rather bald head -was lowered until the right cheek touched the stock -of the gun. The left eye was closed, and the right<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -sighted along the barrel, which at the same time was -shifted, following the man on horseback.</p> - -<p>A few moments passed, during which the down-pointed -muzzle shifted like a spy-glass, following the -moving object. Then——</p> - -<p>Crack! Into the still air a blue puff of smoke rose -and hung for a moment above the rock. The drone -of the bullet sounded clearly down the edge of the -slope as the deadly missile hurled itself toward its -mark. A quick cry came up from the roadway, and -the weapon was stealthily withdrawn.</p> - -<p>Quickly, however, the man behind the rock peered -down, but when he did so he saw that blind chance -had stepped in and thwarted him. The horse had -apparently stumbled on a loose rock just as the shot -was fired, and had reared back slightly to recover its -footing; therefore, it was into the animal’s soft, -rounded neck that the heavy bullet had bored its way, -and not into the more precious target at which it -had been aimed.</p> - -<p>The creature was now lying in the roadway, and -the convulsive movements of its limbs could be seen -dimly through the little cloud of dust which had been -raised by its fall.</p> - -<p>The man on the horse’s back had been hurled in -a heap by the side of the road, but as his would-be -murderer watched, he saw him rise to his feet and -stare up in the general direction of the rock from -which the shot had been fired. Warned by that movement, -the skulker swiftly jerked his head back and -crouched still lower in his place.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Curse him!” the hard voice grated. “He always -has the fiend’s own luck!”</p> - -<p>Grasping his rifle and hat, but still keeping on hands -and knees, he began instinctively to crawl away under -cover of the rock. He had gone no more than a -yard, though, before he paused irresolutely and his -fingers sought his belt.</p> - -<p>There were other bullets in that belt, but the man’s -failure had unnerved him, and a certain fatalistic instinct -told him that he was not likely to succeed in a -second attempt, now that the first had come to naught. -The figure in the road would be on its guard now, -and if another shot missed its mark, the point from -which it had been fired would almost certainly be -located. From that would only be a step to the discovery -of the shooter’s identity, and the latter did not -care to contemplate such a possibility. Consequently, -with a snakelike movement, the lean figure resumed -its progress away from the rocks, and presently, having -reached the protection of large bowlders, straightened -up a little more and increased its pace.</p> - -<p>The fugitive knew that the man he had tried to -kill was more than usually fond of the dying horse, -and would probably delay at its side for a precious -minute or two before attempting to solve the mystery -of the shot. That delay promised to enable him -to make good his escape, and he was resolved to take -every possible advantage of it. For perhaps fifteen -minutes he doubled and twisted, now ascending and -now descending the foothills. At the end of that -time he had reached the road again, and, watching<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -his chance, dodged across it. This latest move -brought him into thick woods, through which he hurriedly -threaded his way in the direction of the valley.</p> - -<p>He hid his rifle in a hollow tree, and when he -reached the little mining camp he had cunningly concealed -all evidence of agitation or guilt.</p> - -<p>The knowledge of the act was not destined to remain -locked in his own breast, however, as he was -soon to learn. At his destination, the Condor Mine, -he found Charlie Floyd, the mine’s physician, waiting -for him, and wearing a very stern expression.</p> - -<p>“I have something important to say to you, Mr. -Stone,” the young doctor said grimly, and led the -way to a spot where they were out of earshot.</p> - -<p>“What’s up?” demanded Stone, who was one of -the two original owners of the mine. He and his -partner, Winthrop Crawford, had only recently sold -out for a cool million.</p> - -<p>“Much,” was the grave answer. “I happened to -be roaming about in the foothills back there a little -while ago, and I saw you take that pot shot at Mr. -Crawford.”</p> - -<p>“What are you raving about?” growled Stone, with -the greatest apparent surprise.</p> - -<p>“I’m not raving at all, Mr. Stone. I always carry -field glasses on my walks, as you know, and, being -startled by the shot, I looked in that direction, saw -the puff of smoke from behind the rock, and leveled -my glasses on the spot. I saw you when you looked -down to see if the bullet had done its work; saw you -as plainly as if you had been not more than ten feet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -away. There’s no possibility of a mistake. I was -in a position to watch your movements afterward, and -saw you sneaking away. I recognized your hat, too.”</p> - -<p>Stone had wilted at first when the field glasses -were mentioned, but now he seemed to have plucked -up fresh courage, and even assumed a defiant attitude.</p> - -<p>“Well, what are you going to do about it?” he -demanded. “One or the other of us will have to -kick the bucket sooner or later. Crawford has it in -for me, and I only acted in self-defense. If I don’t -get him first, he’ll get me as sure as fate.”</p> - -<p>The young physician looked at him searchingly, -but there was much more of pity than condemnation -in his glance.</p> - -<p>“You needn’t be afraid that I’m going to give you -up to justice, Mr. Stone,” he said, after a pause. -“You’ll resent it, of course, but I’m pretty sure that -you’re not responsible for your actions. I hold your -liberty, if not your life, in my hands, though, and -I’m going to name a condition in return for my -silence.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="II">CHAPTER II. -<br /> -<small>THE WITNESS MAKES CONDITIONS.</small></h2> - - -<p>James Stone assumed a belligerent attitude.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean by saying I’m not accountable?” -he blustered. “You think I’m crazy?”</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t use quite such a harsh word,” was the -reply. “But I’ve been watching you for some time, -and I’m certain that your mind is slightly affected. -This grouch of yours against Mr. Crawford is entirely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -uncalled-for, and everybody knows it but you. He’s -the best friend you have in the world, and would do -anything and everything for you. Until lately you’ve -been the same toward him, and there’s nothing that -could have caused such a breach. Mr. Crawford -wouldn’t harm a hair of your head, and you wouldn’t -think of harming him if you were yourself.”</p> - -<p>“Rot!” exclaimed Stone. “You don’t know anything -about it, Floyd, and it’s none of your business; -it’s nobody’s business but ours. Something has -come between us, and you’ll have to take my word -for it that Crawford has got it in for me. He’s a -deep one. You’d think butter wouldn’t melt in his -mouth, but all the time he’s scheming to finish his old -partner. I know, and I’m not going to have any -young whipper-snapper tell me to my face that I’m -crazy.”</p> - -<p>Charlie Floyd’s lips tightened.</p> - -<p>“Would you prefer to be branded as a would-be -assassin, Mr. Stone?” he asked cuttingly. “I’m putting -the most innocent interpretation I can to your -act, and if you know what’s good for yourself you’ll -accept it as the lesser of two evils. You have a great -deal more influence here than I have in most ways, -but you know that Mr. Crawford is more popular -than you. You’ve lost your popularity in these last -few months by your dogged, brooding manner and -your harsh words. If I should reveal this attempt of -yours on your partner’s life, you know perfectly well -that it would go hard with you. No one would have -any sympathy for you, and you’d get the limit. Just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -think of that before you call me names, and remember -that I have it in my power to break you. Now -will you listen to what I have to say?”</p> - -<p>The miner moistened his lips and glanced about -with shifty eyes.</p> - -<p>“I’ll listen, Charlie,” he said, with a suggestion of -a whine in his tone. “It ain’t pleasant to be called -crazy, you know, but if you’ll stand by me I’ll make -it worth your while.”</p> - -<p>The young physician knew at once what he meant.</p> - -<p>“None of that, Mr. Stone!” he said quickly. “I -don’t want a cent of your money. I would not keep -silent for the whole five hundred thousand they say -you received for your half interest in the Condor. -I’m making this offer simply for your own good. I -really believe you’re not responsible for your recent -actions, but I feel sure there isn’t much the matter -with you. For that reason I want to shield you from -the consequences if I can, and try to set you on the -road to recovery. You and Crawford are going to -New York soon, aren’t you?”</p> - -<p>“That’s the plan—by the next boat,” was the sullen -reply. “We figured it out before this came up, and -of course I was anxious to get back home when I’d -made my pile. I haven’t been back in twenty-five -years. When this break came, though, I wasn’t keen -on going back with Win. But he wouldn’t hear of -anything else. I reckon he thinks the trip will give -him a good chance to polish me off.”</p> - -<p>“The plan still holds good, then?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I ain’t a coward, and if one of us doesn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -get the other before, then you won’t find me backing -out.”</p> - -<p>Young Floyd’s brows were knit, and he gazed absent-mindedly -at the ground for some moments.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he said at length, “it’s a big responsibility -to take, and I don’t know that I ought to assume it, -but there doesn’t seem to be anything else to do—short -of giving you up.”</p> - -<p>His eyes sought Stone’s and held them.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Stone,” he continued, speaking slowly, “I need -not repeat that I’m in a position to cause your arrest -at any moment, and to give the most damaging testimony -against you. I don’t want to do it, because of -what I believe in regard to your condition, but you -may be sure that I’ll do it at the drop of the hat if -anything happens to Mr. Crawford or if you make any -other attempt on his life. Now, remembering that, -will you give me your solemn promise—will you -swear, in fact—that you’ll have no other crime against -you, and that when you reach New York you’ll do as -I say?”</p> - -<p>The bronzed miner hesitated for some time, then -held out his hand, which Floyd took.</p> - -<p>“I swear to you, Charlie,” he said, “that I won’t -start anything myself, if that’s what you want. Of -course, if Crawford tries anything on me I’ll have to -defend myself. You couldn’t expect me to take it -without lifting a finger.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly not,” the young doctor agreed. “Mind -you, though, you’ve got to refrain from anything hostile, -unless you actually catch him in an attempt on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -you—which is out of the question, as he would be incapable -of doing such a thing.”</p> - -<p>“Incapable your grandmother!” was the scornful -response. “You don’t know Win Crawford as well -as I do. I’ve given you my word, though. Now -what else do you want?”</p> - -<p>“I want you to remember what will happen to you -if you fail to keep this oath. Will you?”</p> - -<p>“I ain’t likely to forget. Is that all? What was -it you wanted me to do in New York?”</p> - -<p>“To go to see some one who can help you, if any -one can.”</p> - -<p>“You mean a doctor?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, a great one—the head of one of the biggest -hospitals in the city.”</p> - -<p>“Look here!” Stone burst out angrily. “Are you -trying to have me sent to an asylum?”</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” Floyd hastened to say in a soothing -tone. “Doctor Follansbee isn’t very keen on asylums, -except as a last resort. He’s a famous specialist in -nervous and mental diseases, but his chief aim is always -to keep people out of asylums, if possible; in -other words, to cure them without interfering with -their liberty or branding them as insane. I desire -you to go to him—in fact, I must insist upon your -doing so, if I’m to shield you from the consequences -of this morning’s act. If, as I suspect, your mind is -slightly affected in this one respect, he may be able -to help you very easily, and if he does, you’ll never -cease to be grateful to him. If, on the other hand, he -finds you perfectly sane, there will be nothing more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -to be said, and I’ll continue to keep silence unless you -make some further attempt on Mr. Crawford. You -need not fear to consult Doctor Follansbee. As I -say, he’ll never think of sending a man like you to -an asylum, and, as people go to him for all sorts of -nervous troubles as well as for operations, no one outside -will draw any conclusions if your visit to him is -known. Will you promise to call on him as soon as -you reach New York?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose so,” Stone agreed reluctantly. “It’s -mighty hard lines to be ordered about like this, and -sent to one of those confounded alienist fellows, but -you’ve got the whip hand just now, Charlie, and it’s -up to me to take my medicine. Where will I find -the wonderful Follansbee?”</p> - -<p>Doctor Floyd took a letter from his pocket, removed -the envelope, and scribbled the name and address -on the back. When he handed it to Stone the -latter read:</p> - -<p>“Doctor Stephen Follansbee, St. Swithin’s Hospital, -Amsterdam Avenue, New York City.”</p> - -<p>“There you are,” Floyd said. “I know you don’t -want to do this, Mr. Stone, and that it’s all you can -stand to have me make this condition, but I’m afraid -you’ll have to put up with it. It’s that—or the other, -and I imagine you would find a trial and conviction -for attempted murder a little more irksome than either -of the things I have asked you to do.”</p> - -<p>“I guess that’s right,” admitted the miner. “You’re -a good fellow, Charlie, and I know you mean well. -You’ve rubbed it in pretty thoroughly, and there’s a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -lot you don’t understand; but I reckon I’m lucky at -that. I’ll keep my hands off Win Crawford until -I’ve the chance to see this Follansbee person. After -that—well, we’ll see what we shall see.”</p> - -<p>“That’s all I can ask at present,” Floyd returned, -“and you can rely on Doctor Follansbee’s word. He’s -a queer-looking individual, and very eccentric. You -needn’t be surprised if he seems to agree with everything -you say about Mr. Crawford. His methods -are all his own, and they seem very peculiar at times, -but he gets results in the most wonderful way. I -know, because I studied under him in medical school. -He’s far from a beauty, and has a manner which -antagonizes a good many, but he’s too big to care -about that. Here comes Mr. Crawford, though. -Remember your promise, and don’t try any tricks!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="III">CHAPTER III. -<br /> -<small>AN UNFORTUNATE LETTER.</small></h2> - - -<p>The young physician halted at a little distance and -watched the meeting between the two partners.</p> - -<p>Crawford had been trudging along with head bent, -as if brooding over the loss of his faithful animal and -the mystery of that unexpected shot, but when he -looked up at length and saw Stone, he hastened his -steps and called after him.</p> - -<p>His genial greeting was borne to Floyd’s ears.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Jimmy!” Crawford shouted. “How’s the -boy this morning?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> - -<p>There was nothing for Stone to do but to halt and -turn. He nodded curtly, however, and when they -walked on together, it was evident that Crawford was -doing all the talking.</p> - -<p>“That’s a queer deal,” thought Floyd, with a -puzzled, apprehensive look on his face. “If Stone -isn’t touched in the head, I’ll miss my guess, but I -can’t imagine what the cause of it is. They’ve been -pals for years, and have gone through thick and thin -together. Their friendship has been the talk of this -mining country for I don’t know how long, and Crawford -seems to be as fond of his partner as ever, in -spite of all the rebuffs he has given him lately. I’m -afraid I’ve made a big mistake and been altogether -too easy on Stone. I’d never forgive myself if anything -happened to Crawford, but it didn’t seem right -to make the other suffer for that insane act.”</p> - -<p>He went about his duties in an absent-minded way, -however, and had done a great deal of thinking before -he encountered Crawford that afternoon, as he -was making his rounds. The two men greeted each -other cordially, and after Floyd had looked about to -see that they were unobserved he said quickly:</p> - -<p>“I’ll walk along for a short distance with you, if -I may, Mr. Crawford. I find myself in a very difficult -position, and what I’ve decided to say seems like -a very serious breach of confidence. I feel that I -must say it, though, because otherwise the responsibility -would be too heavy for me to bear.”</p> - -<p>Crawford looked at him keenly.</p> - -<p>“Is it about Jimmy Stone?” he asked.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> - -<p>“How did you guess?” was the surprised query.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m not blind, Charlie, and I can put two and -two together. Jimmy hasn’t been himself for months, -and I know others have noticed it. I saw him talking -with you this morning. Have you any idea what is -the matter with him?”</p> - -<p>The young physician tapped his forehead significantly.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid it’s—a little of that,” he answered reluctantly.</p> - -<p>“You do? I feared something of the sort, but I -hoped I was mistaken. What a pity! Jimmy has -always been one of the finest and whitest men that -ever stepped the earth, and a friend worth having. -I’ve worried and worried over him lately, and tried -to recall anything I had said or done that might have -turned him against me. I haven’t been able to think -of a thing that any man in his sound sense would resent -to such an extent, and I’ve been obliged to come -to the conclusion that he was not altogether responsible. -Do you think anything can be done for him? -We’ve both got plenty of money now, and I’m ready -and willing——”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure you are, Mr. Crawford,” Floyd assured -him, “and I hope Mr. Stone can be helped. In fact, -I’m almost sure he can be. He’s absolutely normal in -every other way, and this change is so recent that -the trouble can’t be very deep-seated. He has promised -me that he will consult a famous alienist in New -York.”</p> - -<p>“He has?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> - -<p>Crawford gave a start as he put the question.</p> - -<p>“Then you’ve actually talked with him about it?” -he went on wonderingly. “Has he sought your advice?”</p> - -<p>“Hardly,” was the reply. “I butted in, and, of -course, he was up in arms in a moment. Nobody likes -to be called crazy—least of all a crazy man. It had -to be done, though. If I tell you something, will you -give me your word not to use it in any way against -Mr. Stone?”</p> - -<p>“Of course. I’d protect Jimmy’s life at the risk -of my own any day.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t a doubt of it, but this is asking a great -deal of you. Mr. Crawford, it was—it was your -partner who fired that shot at you this morning.”</p> - -<p>Crawford gave the young doctor a long, searching -look, and then said quietly:</p> - -<p>“That isn’t exactly news to me, Charlie. I guessed -as much.”</p> - -<p>“You did? And yet you could greet him as you -did?”</p> - -<p>“Why not? It was not the Jimmy Stone I’ve -known for twenty years or more who did it. It was -this surly, glowering chap who has stepped into his -shoes. I don’t bear any ill will—I can’t. I’ve been -looking for something of the sort, and of course I’ve -tried to protect myself and shall continue to do so. -I have no intention of having him confined, though, -and you must promise me that you won’t take any -such steps. There’s no danger to any one else, and if -I choose to run the risk it’s my own business.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I knew that would be your attitude,” Floyd told -him, “and I allowed myself to promise Mr. Stone that -on certain conditions I would not play the part of -informer.”</p> - -<p>“You accused him of it, then?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I witnessed the whole thing, and told him -I had done so. I used my knowledge to extract a -couple of promises from him, but since then I’ve been -wondering if I did right. I’ve worried a lot about -the possible consequences to you, and finally I made -up my mind that I’d simply have to warn you. -Strictly speaking, I didn’t give my word to say nothing -to you. I simply agreed not to inform the authorities; -but of course Stone did not dream that I would -tell you, and I feel like a sneak in doing so. I couldn’t -bear to let you remain in ignorance, however, for if -I had, I would have felt that I was indirectly responsible -if anything happened to you.”</p> - -<p>Crawford nodded slowly and gripped the young -physician’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>“I understand, Charlie,” he said. “It was a knotty -problem, but you’ve solved it the best you knew how, -and I thank you for your warning, although it wasn’t -necessary. What were the promises Jimmy gave -you?”</p> - -<p>“I made him swear that he would make no further -attempt on you unless in self-defense. Nothing can -persuade him, you know, that you aren’t gunning for -him, but I knew if he kept that promise nothing would -happen. It was a long chance to take with a man in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -his mental condition, I suppose, but I couldn’t bear -the thought of giving him up to justice.”</p> - -<p>Crawford nodded understandingly.</p> - -<p>“Nor can I,” he said. “I hope he’ll keep the promise, -knowing the light in which your testimony would -place him if he didn’t, but I don’t intend to change -my plans in the least. I’ll keep an eye on him as best -I can, but we’ll travel together unless he refuses. If -he finishes me—well, so be it. The responsibility will -be mine, not yours. But what about the other promise? -Was it that he should seek the advice of a -specialist in New York?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I gave him the name of Doctor Stephen -Follansbee, the famous head of St. Swithin’s Hospital. -Doctor Follansbee is at the top of his profession -in New York, and has a great reputation for -handling such cases in an unusual way without resorting -to the customary confinement of the patient.”</p> - -<p>“Good! Nothing could be better! If Jimmy goes -to him, we’ll hope that all will come out right, and -that I’ll soon have my old partner back. I thank -you from the bottom of my heart, Charlie, but we’d -better separate now. If Jimmy should happen to -see us together, or hear that we had been, he might -smell a rat and make things decidedly unpleasant for -you.”</p> - -<p>They shook hands again and separated, but Doctor -Floyd felt that he had one more duty to perform that -day. When he returned to the rough little shack -which he occupied, his first act after supper was to -sit down and write a rather lengthy letter. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -addressed to his former professor, Doctor Follansbee, -and in it he gave the celebrated alienist a history -of James Stone’s case, so far as he knew it. He -wished Follansbee to receive the letter before Stone’s -arrival, and to have something else to go on besides -the man’s own statements.</p> - -<p>Incidentally, knowing that Follansbee’s charges -were very high, he thought best to mention the facts -concerning the recent sale of the mine. He informed -the specialist that Stone and Crawford had been equal -partners in the Condor, and that the share of each -was reputed to be five hundred thousand dollars. For -no particular reason, he added that so far as was -known Stone and Crawford were alone in the world, -and that the general understanding was that each had -drawn a will in favor of the other before the estrangement -had come about.</p> - -<p>Young Floyd was nothing if not thorough, but had -he known the consequences which would follow the -writing of that letter he would have cut off his right -hand rather than send it.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="IV">CHAPTER IV. -<br /> -<small>CRAWFORD IS TROUBLED.</small></h2> - - -<p>The boat deck of the <em>Cortez</em> was of wide expanse, -shaded by gleaming canvas.</p> - -<p>The South American liner had just passed Sandy -Hook, bound inward, and was making its stately way -toward New York harbor. It was late in the evening,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -and in a couple of deck chairs two figures were -seated. The men were chatting together quietly. -The taller of the two, clean-shaven and keen-faced, -was puffing contentedly on a fragrant Havana.</p> - -<p>They were Nick Carter, the distinguished New -York detective, and his leading assistant, Chick Carter, -who were returning from a couple of weeks’ holiday -spent in Jamaica. The <em>Cortez</em> had touched at Kingston -on its way north from South American ports, -and it was there that the detective and his assistant -had come on board.</p> - -<p>“Evidently we won’t be home until to-morrow -morning,” Chick Carter said quietly. “It will be too -late for disembarking to-night. Of course we could -get a special dispensation, if necessary, but I don’t -believe in pulling wires unless there’s need for it. -All the same, I’ll be glad to get back into harness -again.”</p> - -<p>Chick grinned in the darkness. He had enjoyed -their short stay in beautiful Jamaica, but he had noted -that his chief had chafed at the idleness, especially -during the last few days.</p> - -<p>“Let’s hope there’s something waiting for us that -will let us sit up and take notice,” he said. “I feel -fit to tackle anything.”</p> - -<p>They were both in evening dress and awaiting the -sound of the dinner gong, which soon called them to -the saloon.</p> - -<p>There were over fifty first-class passengers on -board, and at the detective’s table were two men who -had interested him. They sat side by side opposite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -to him, and their broad shoulders and tanned features -told plainly that they were men who had spent the -greater part of their years out of doors in some hot -country.</p> - -<p>Their manners and dress were curiously alike, but -their faces differed greatly. The man who sat on -the right, and who Nick had found out was Winthrop -Crawford, had an open, kindly countenance. The -trim gray beard did not quite hide the friendly lines -about the mouth; and the eyes, although set in a network -of wrinkles—such as one always notices on the -faces of those who have peered long over sun-drenched -stretches of plain or mountain—were wide and blue -and looked out on the world in a genial fashion.</p> - -<p>His companion, however, was almost the opposite, -so far as looks were concerned. There was nothing -repellent about his features, to be sure, but his expression -was far from agreeable. His eyes were hard -and suspicious, his lips usually wore either a snarl or -a sneer, and his brows were drawn together with a -surly frown most of the time.</p> - -<p>It was the head steward who had told Nick the -names of the two men, and had also added the information -that they had been until recently joint -owners of a big silver mine in South America.</p> - -<p>The second man, James Stone, was the older of -the two, and it was his peculiar manner that had interested -the detective first of all. During the four -or five days since Carter and his assistant had boarded -the <em>Cortez</em>, they had never heard Stone say more than -half a dozen words at a time to any one, even to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -companion, Crawford. At the table Nick noted that -Crawford often tried to engage his partner in conversation, -but his efforts were always doomed to failure. -Moreover, the detective had observed the perplexed, -anxious look which had come into Crawford’s -eyes many times after these rebuffs.</p> - -<p>The two mining men were in their places when -Carter and Chick dropped into their seats. Once or -twice in the course of the meal the detective caught -Crawford glancing across at him with a look of interest, -and wondered what it meant. He was not -surprised, therefore, when, after the meal was over -and he had entered the smoking room, he heard a -voice at his elbow, and, turning round, saw the -bearded face of Winthrop Crawford at his side.</p> - -<p>“I hope you’ll excuse me, Mr. Carter,” the man -said in a deep, melodious voice, “but I’ve just heard -from the steward who you are, and I’d like to make -your acquaintance.”</p> - -<p>As a judge of character Nick Carter had no superior, -and he saw that the man in front of him was -of the sterling, honest type; therefore, he had no -hesitation in holding out his hand.</p> - -<p>“It’s only another case of diamond cut diamond, -Mr. Crawford,” he answered, with a smile, “for I -must also plead guilty to having made inquiries about -you.”</p> - -<p>Crawford pulled out a cigar case, and Nick accepted -the “weed,” after which they strolled across the big -room and seated themselves on a comfortable settee.</p> - -<p>“I’m returning to New York after an absence of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -quarter of a century,” Crawford explained, “and I -don’t believe I know a single soul there.”</p> - -<p>“You are taking a well-earned vacation, I suppose?” -the detective remarked.</p> - -<p>“Something of the sort,” was the answer. “As a -matter of fact, I have no occupation now, since my -partner and I have sold out our mining interests in -South America. I have nothing definite in view, but -I’m sure I shan’t be content to remain idle for long.”</p> - -<p>He leaned back and puffed at his cigar.</p> - -<p>“I’ve had a pretty tough time of it,” he went on. -“The usual experience of those who knock about the -world seeking their fortunes; but I think I can safely -say that I’m secure now for the rest of my life—unless -I make a fool of myself.”</p> - -<p>“I’m very glad to hear of it,” Nick declared heartily. -“I understood that you and Mr. Stone had been -fortunate.”</p> - -<p>Crawford nodded his head, but a shadow passed -over his face.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t necessary to go into details, Mr. Carter,” -he replied, “but your informant was quite correct. -Stone and I discovered and developed the Condor -Mine in Brazil. We worked it ourselves for over -a year, and then decided to sell out and come back -home. It netted us about half a million apiece. -That’s very little, of course, as you count wealth up -here, but it’s enough for us to live on in comfort for -the rest of our lives. We have no one dependent on -us—unfortunately.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m sure you deserve it all,” the detective told him -warmly.</p> - -<p>Crawford’s eyes grew misty with a host of memories -of hard days and lean ones—days when the -nearest approach to a meal had been another notch in -the belt and the hope of something more substantial -on the morrow.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “I’ve earned it; and -that brings me to something I wanted to say. I’m -a little afraid of your New York, Mr. Carter. I know -much more about prospecting than I do about finance. -As I’ve told you, there’s nothing to occupy my mind, -and I suppose I’ll soon be looking about for investments. -If I’m not very careful, I’m likely to fall -among thieves.”</p> - -<p>He leaned across and placed his hand on Nick’s -arm.</p> - -<p>“Even in South America we hear of Nick Carter,” -he said, with a quiet nod of his grizzled head, “and I -count it a very fortunate chance that I should have -run across you here on this vessel. I have engaged -rooms at the Hotel Windermere, and I’ll be very glad -if you’ll give me your address. I should like to have -some one to go to for advice if I find that the sharks -begin to gather.”</p> - -<p>Then, as the detective remained silent, Crawford -went on:</p> - -<p>“It must be a strictly business undertaking, you -understand. If I’m doubtful about any concern or -individual, I would like to call on you and have you -give me a report. I should expect you to make the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -usual charge for such work—in fact, I would be willing -to pay more than that, because, as a friendless -man who doesn’t understand the game, I would profit -more than usual by such invaluable assistance.”</p> - -<p>There was something curiously winning about -Crawford’s voice, and the man appealed strongly to -Nick. The sort of assistance he asked for was hardly -in the detective’s line, but the simple, direct appeal -gained the day.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” he said, taking out his case and handing -a card to Crawford. “Let’s hope for your sake -that you won’t have any very urgent need of me, but -here’s my address, and you can ring me up at any -time. I shall be very glad to do anything I can.”</p> - -<p>Crawford had just placed the card in his pocket -when the door of the smoking room opened and -James Stone appeared. There was a little bar at one -end of the room, and it was toward this that Crawford’s -partner was headed. Stone’s eyes traveled -across to Crawford, and the latter made a move as -though to rise to his feet, but his partner turned his -head away quickly and went on his way. There was -more than a suggestion of surliness, if not of enmity, -in the way he ignored Crawford, and the latter leaned -back again with an involuntary sigh.</p> - -<p>Nick caught his eye.</p> - -<p>“I can’t make it out,” Crawford said at last, the -troubled expression deepening on his face. “I suppose -you’ve noted that Stone and I hardly exchange -a word.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="V">CHAPTER V. -<br /> -<small>ANOTHER MURDEROUS ATTACK.</small></h2> - - -<p>“I must admit that I have noticed it,” Nick returned, -“and it struck me as being rather curious, under the -circumstances.”</p> - -<p>“It beats me,” Crawford declared, glancing down -at the bar, where the broad-shouldered figure of his -old comrade was standing. “Jimmy and I have been -chums for years. We’ve worked together and starved -together, and five years ago he saved my life at the -risk of his own. He dived into a flooded river, and -it was touch and go whether he brought me out or -not.”</p> - -<p>The deep voice shook for a moment. “It’s beyond -me,” he continued. “For the last few months he’s -been a changed man. I can hardly get a word out of -him, and many times I’ve caught him looking at me -as though I were his bitterest enemy.”</p> - -<p>There was no doubting the sincerity of Crawford’s -emotions. His tanned face twitched, and his hard, -work-worn hands were clasped in a tight grip as they -rested on his knees.</p> - -<p>“Something has gone wrong,” he concluded, “but -what it is Heaven only knows. Would you believe -me if I told you that he——”</p> - -<p>The detective waited curiously, but Crawford did -not complete the sentence, and a little silence fell between -the two.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> - -<p>As Stone had tossed off his drink, he passed them -once more. When he reached the door, however, he -halted for a moment, then, swinging around on his -heel, beckoned to Crawford. It was almost a gasp -of relief that broke from the latter’s lips as he rose.</p> - -<p>“Hello!” he murmured. “He wants to speak to -me, does he? Excuse me, Mr. Carter.”</p> - -<p>The eager way in which he hurried toward his partner -revealed to the detective how anxious he was to -make friends again.</p> - -<p>The two figures passed out through the doorway, -and Nick mechanically picked up a magazine from a -neighboring table. Half an hour passed; then, leaving -the smoking room, the detective went off in search -of Chick. His young assistant was not to be seen, -and presently Carter returned to the boat deck, found -a quiet gap between two suspended boats, and, leaning -on the rail, watched the distant lights along the -coast.</p> - -<p>Perhaps fifteen minutes later the detective heard a -quick, muffled cry, followed by the creak of a boat as -some heavy object swung against it. He straightened -up and listened. A moment later a half-choked voice -came to him:</p> - -<p>“Jim! Jim! Good heavens! Are you trying to -murder me?”</p> - -<p>Nick recognized the voice as that of Crawford’s, -and, with a swift bound, he leaped out of the dark -gap between the boats in which he had stood concealed.</p> - -<p>Sprinting forward along the deserted deck, he followed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -the direction of the sound, and in another gap -he saw standing out against the background of the -sea two struggling figures. They were locked in each -other’s arms, and one of them was swaying out over -the rail at a perilous angle. The detective saw that -the figure of the man bending over the rail was that -of Crawford, and above him, with his fingers clutched -tightly around his throat, was James Stone. The -former was clutching at the murderous wrists of his -companion, trying to release the fierce grip, but even -as Nick sighted them Stone made another vicious -lunge, and Crawford’s body was all but thrust out -over the rail into the sea.</p> - -<p>A swift, horrified spring carried Nick into the gap -between the boats, and realizing that there was not a -moment to spare, he flung himself at Stone. It was -a straight-arm blow that the detective gave, with the -swift, trained precision of an experienced athlete. -The great detective’s bunched fist landed full on the -hard, dogged face of James Stone with resistless force. -A strangled oath broke from the miner’s lips, and he -staggered back against the bow of the swinging boat, -releasing Crawford as he did so.</p> - -<p>Nick saw the unfortunate man’s body sway over -the rail, and with a headlong leap the detective hurled -himself forward, gripping at the toppling man. He -was only just in the nick of time. His fingers caught -the ends of Crawford’s evening coat, and for a long -tense moment he hung over the rail, clutching in that -way the otherwise unsupported body of the miner. -It was well for Crawford that the muscles of those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -two arms were of a man much beyond the average -strength. Carter felt as though his arms were being -pulled out of their sockets, but presently he gathered -himself for an extra effort, and slowly and carefully -pulled the swaying man upward until Crawford was -able to grasp the rail in his hands. A moment later, -Nick had shifted his grasp until his palms were under -the man’s shoulders, and then with a tug Crawford -was lifted over the rail and deposited safely on the -deck.</p> - -<p>The perspiration was pouring from the detective’s -face, and his breath was coming and going in great, -choking pants, for Crawford was a heavy man and -the bodily effort had been a tremendous one. The -miner clung to the rail for a few moments, steadying -himself there. Through the gloom Nick could see -the bearded face and the blue eyes fixed on his own. -At that instant, a quick, shuffling footfall came to the -detective’s ears, and he turned quickly around in time -to see the figure of Stone gliding like a black shadow -along the pale, canvas-covered side of the suspended -boat.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, you don’t, you confounded rascal!” Nick -broke out, as he started to follow the man.</p> - -<p>But before he could do so, Crawford reeled, stepped -toward him, and clutched him by the arm.</p> - -<p>“It’s—it’s you, Carter?” the miner breathed.</p> - -<p>“Yes. Let me go, though. I don’t want that -scoundrel to get away.”</p> - -<p>Crawford’s fingers tightened their hold on his -sleeve.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Don’t follow him! Let him go—for my sake!” -he pleaded.</p> - -<p>Nick paused and peered with surprise into the man’s -face.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you know what you’re saying?” the detective -asked, in a strange voice.</p> - -<p>“Perfectly.”</p> - -<p>“But that fellow tried to murder you.”</p> - -<p>“I know that only too well.”</p> - -<p>“And you mean to say you’re not going to lodge -a complaint against him or do anything in the matter?”</p> - -<p>The bearded face shone in the dusk.</p> - -<p>“That man will never be accused by me,” Crawford -said positively. “Don’t you recognize him?”</p> - -<p>The detective shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I recognize him, all right,” he said. “It was -Stone, your partner, and also—if I had not come on -the scene just when I did—your murderer.”</p> - -<p>Crawford came closer to Carter and thrust his -arm through that of the detective.</p> - -<p>“That may be,” he said, “but I can’t forget that -he’s also the man who once saved my life, who has -shared his last crust with me again and again.”</p> - -<p>Then, as an exclamation of impatience broke from -Nick’s lips, the miner went on:</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, I know that you think me a fool. You -will think me even a greater when I tell you that this -is not the first time. He has tried to do the same -thing on this very voyage—to say nothing of an attempt -before we left South America.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="VI">CHAPTER VI. -<br /> -<small>THE LOVE OF COMRADES.</small></h2> - - -<p>“Good heavens!” Nick Carter broke out. “Do you -actually mean to tell me that he has attacked you before?”</p> - -<p>“I do,” the deep voice replied. “He tried to shoot -me from ambush a week or so before we left Brazil, -and just prior to our arrival at Kingston he made -another attempt. He was not nearly so successful -that time, though. I managed to overpower him.”</p> - -<p>They were pacing along the dark deck now, and -Nick heard the man by his side draw a deep breath.</p> - -<p>“Something has gone wrong with Jimmy Stone,” -he said quietly. “You don’t know him as I do, Carter. -Up to a short six months ago he was like a brother to -me. Man, I tell you that Jim Stone is the only person -in the world that I—I care two straws about. -You know what it means to men who have lived and -starved together.”</p> - -<p>The rich voice stopped, and Nick caught something -that was suspiciously like a suppressed sob. Involuntarily -he paused, and Crawford halted for a moment, -his shoulders shaking.</p> - -<p>A strong man’s grief is a terrible thing to witness, -and the detective felt himself tongue-tied.</p> - -<p>“My friend—my old comrade!” Crawford went on -huskily. “Trying to murder me! By Heaven, Carter, -it almost breaks my heart!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> - -<p>He swung around suddenly and caught Nick by -the arm again.</p> - -<p>“I want you to keep this thing a secret,” he said -earnestly. “Jim isn’t accountable for this mood that -has been on him for the last few months—he isn’t -accountable for his actions. I had feared for some -time that there was a little trouble with his brain, and -my suspicions were confirmed before we left South -America.”</p> - -<p>He then went on to tell in detail of Stone’s attempt -to shoot him, as revealed by the young physician; of -the latter’s opinion of Stone’s sanity—or, rather, insanity—and -finally of the promise Floyd had wrung -from the misguided man.</p> - -<p>He told the detective that Stone had reluctantly -agreed to consult a famous specialist, but only because -he had felt compelled to do so in order to stop -Floyd’s mouth. Unfortunately, however, he had forgotten -the specialist’s name and that of the hospital -of which he was the head.</p> - -<p>Had Nick learned those important facts, there -might have been a different story to tell.</p> - -<p>“You will help me shield him, won’t you, Carter?” -Crawford begged. “I suppose I haven’t any right -to ask it, but, after all, it’s my funeral and not yours. -That’s what I told Floyd. He couldn’t rest until he -had warned me, but it did not seem right for me to -change my plans in any way. Jim is my oldest and -best friend—my only close friend, in fact—and I -couldn’t bear to cut adrift from him. Besides, I’ve -been hoping all the time that he’d come out from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -under this cloud; that I’d find some way of reaching -his heart and making it all right again. I have tried -time after time, but always failed. He thinks I’m -his enemy, and attributes to me all the evil suspicions -that are bred in his poor diseased brain. It seems -hopeless, unless he can get some help, but whatever -happens I’m going to stick to him. There’s so little -the matter with him, you see, and I know that the -man himself is one of the finest. He would never -dream of hurting any one if he were in his right -mind, least of all me.”</p> - -<p>“I have no doubt you are right about that,” the -detective agreed, “and that you’re the only one who -is in any danger from him; nevertheless, I can’t help -thinking that your affection, highly commendable as -it is, has caused you to take a very foolish risk. -You say yourself that you haven’t been able to do him -any good, and certainly he doesn’t take any pleasure -in your society, to say the least. It was very unwise -of you to have traveled all this distance with him, and -to have occupied an adjoining stateroom. It has -simply put temptation in his way. You don’t want to -make him a murderer, do you, aside from the question -of your own safety?”</p> - -<p>“No, no! Heaven knows I don’t!”</p> - -<p>“Then you ought by all means to keep out of his -way,” Nick advised gravely. “You say that this -Doctor Floyd extracted a promise from him that he -would do nothing more against you until he had seen -this specialist, but you admit that he has broken that -promise not less than twice during the voyage.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -Plainly there’s no reliance to be placed in him, as -there never is in the case of any one who is mentally -affected even in the slightest degree.”</p> - -<p>“I know,” admitted Crawford. “Jimmy doesn’t -think he has broken his promise, though. He made -a condition that he should do nothing unless I provoked -it or he was obliged to act in self-defense. I’m -sure he thinks he has adhered to that condition. Both -times when he has pounced on me he snarled, ‘You -would, would you?’ or something like that, as if I -had made some move to attack him.”</p> - -<p>“That’s just it,” commented the detective. “He’s -obviously unbalanced, and imagines all sorts of things. -Under the circumstances, therefore, you can do him -no possible good, and may lose your life at any moment.”</p> - -<p>The miner shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I realize that what you say is all true,” he admitted, -“but I’m afraid I’m a fatalist, Mr. Carter. -I simply can’t turn my back on Jimmy. I feel that -I must stick by him for the sake of old times, and, -besides, it seems like cowardice to do anything else. -I’ve never been a coward, and I don’t want to begin -now. Anyway, I have engaged rooms for both of -us at the Windermere, connecting rooms. I’d feel -like a selfish sneak if I made any change. I don’t -want Jimmy to have my blood on his head, or the -blood of any one, and I hope and pray it won’t come -to that; but the bonds between us are too strong to be -broken by me. You see how it is, Mr. Carter, and that -it’s hopeless to argue with me. Are you willing to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -let me go my way in this, and to promise me that -you’ll not take any action whatever?”</p> - -<p>The anxiety in his voice indicated how keenly -Crawford felt the situation. On the one hand, the -man’s amazing obstinacy made Nick very impatient, -but on the other, he felt a strange admiration for -Crawford’s unfaltering loyalty. He thrust out his -hand in the darkness, and the palms of the two men -met.</p> - -<p>“All right, Crawford,” he said, and his voice was -deep and vibrating. “I think you’re making a mistake, -but it’s the kind of mistake one can’t help honoring -you for. I look upon you as one of the bravest -men I have ever met, and you may be sure that I -will keep your secret.”</p> - -<p>Crawford wrung the outstretched hand.</p> - -<p>“I thank you with all my heart,” he said, “and I—I -won’t forget that you saved my life. Some day -I hope to be able to repay you. In any event, we’ll -meet again in New York.”</p> - -<p>But neither he nor Nick dreamed of the curious -circumstances that were to draw them together again -in the great city.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="VII">CHAPTER VII. -<br /> -<small>FOLLANSBEE HITS THE NAIL.</small></h2> - - -<p>It was little after eleven o’clock in the morning -when a broad-shouldered man turned into Amsterdam -Avenue and began to move slowly along the pavement, -glancing now and then at the houses as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -passed. His tanned face suggested that he was a man -from a warmer land, and the stubborn chin and -hard, sour look about the eyes were mute tokens of -the surly temper that ruled the stranger. He was -wearing a soft hat with a wide brim, and he had -tilted it forward to shade his eyes from the sun. Once -he took a slip of paper from his pocket and studied -it for a moment. Evidently he was looking for an -address.</p> - -<p>Presently he caught sight of what he sought—the -big bulk of St. Swithin’s Hospital, which occupied -an entire block. He quickened his pace and approached -the great building. In the reception room, -however, a disappointment awaited him. When he -asked for Doctor Stephen Follansbee, he was told -that that distinguished individual had not yet arrived -at the hospital that day. But after some argument -he obtained Follansbee’s private address, which proved -to be also on Amsterdam Avenue and not more than -half a dozen blocks away.</p> - -<p>The stranger retraced his steps, therefore, and -sought the new number. He soon found it over the -door of a house that was one of a row of solid but -by no means impressive residences.</p> - -<p>A maid admitted him and asked if he had an appointment -with the doctor. When informed that he -had not, she invited him into the empty reception -room and told him Doctor Follansbee was busy, but -that he would be free in a few minutes. The visitor -seated himself, picked up a magazine, and began -mechanically glancing it over. After ten or fifteen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -minutes, the folding doors at the rear of the reception -room were opened and a patient emerged. Over the -latter’s shoulder the waiting man caught a glimpse of -a stern, repellent figure in the doorway.</p> - -<p>The caller rose expectantly, but before he had a -chance to step forward or utter a word he was greeted -in an unexpected, almost uncanny, fashion.</p> - -<p>“Come in, Mr. Stone!” were the words which came -from the man in the doorway.</p> - -<p>With a start, James Stone grasped his hat and -stepped forward. He could not imagine by what -black art the master of the house knew his name, and -he eyed his host apprehensively as he passed him and -entered the room beyond.</p> - -<p>He was doubtless face to face with the famous -Doctor Stephen Follansbee, but it was hard, indeed, -to believe it. The man before him could not have -been more than five feet high. His head was as bare -as a billiard ball and curiously elongated in shape. -The vulturelike face, the almost fringeless eyelids, and -the long, thin, hawklike nose held him mute.</p> - -<p>Into the black, beady eyes there flickered a sudden -mirth, and the thin lips twisted into what was the -ghost of a smile.</p> - -<p>“It’s all right, Stone!” the extraordinary individual -declared. “You have come to the right place. You -may not think it, but I’m Doctor Follansbee.”</p> - -<p>Was it possible? The man looked like some sinister -bird of prey, and yet he was at the head of a celebrated -hospital and enjoyed the most enviable reputation -as an authority whose fame was countrywide.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> - -<p>In response to a gesture from Follansbee the visitor -dropped into a chair close beside a small desk that -stood by a window. The specialist crossed the room -with quick, birdlike steps and took his seat behind the -desk. In the momentary pause that followed, the -two men eyed each other, but what their thoughts -were remained their respective secrets. At least, -Stone could not read the physician’s.</p> - -<p>“You expected to see some one very different, I -suppose?” Follansbee remarked, with a mocking -smile. “A big, well-groomed figurehead with an impressive -manner and a carefully trimmed Vandyke -beard? Confess, now.”</p> - -<p>Stone relaxed and laughed. It was a short, grating -laugh, and the physician’s eyes dilated slightly as -he heard it.</p> - -<p>It was hardly the laugh of a sane person, and as -Follansbee leaned forward he noted that the pupils -of Stone’s eyes were fixed and round, a sign which -the initiated always searches for in mental cases.</p> - -<p>“That’s about it,” the visitor admitted, in his harsh -voice. “The—the young man who spoke to me about -you told me that you were the head of a big hospital, -and I’ve just been there.”</p> - -<p>Follansbee nodded.</p> - -<p>“I understand,” he said. “I can assure you that -your friend was quite correct, as you’ve doubtless -found out for yourself, if you’ve been at St. Swithin’s. -I’ve never been called handsome, but I haven’t found -that a drawback, and I suspect that you didn’t come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -to see me for my looks. Did you have a pleasant -voyage on the <em>Cortez</em>?”</p> - -<p>Stone looked at him in open-mouthed amazement.</p> - -<p>“What do you know about me?” he demanded. -“You nearly floored me by calling me by my name, -and now you——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that isn’t all I know about you,” Follansbee -assured him maliciously. “I can tell you all about the -Condor Mine and of your partner, Winthrop Crawford—or -shall we call him your ex-partner? I know -that you and he recently sold the Condor for a million, -and that you have both come back to your old stamping -ground after an absence of a quarter of a century -or so. I know several other things, too, but we won’t -speak of them just yet.”</p> - -<p>Stone bit his lip and paled a little under his tan.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll be hanged!” he muttered. “I suppose -Floyd must have written to you about me. How in -thunder you knew me, though, when I came in, is -more than I can understand.”</p> - -<p>“Who may ‘Floyd’ be?” queried Follansbee, as if -he had never heard the name before.</p> - -<p>His visitor looked at him in bewilderment, but again -failed to read that baffling countenance.</p> - -<p>“Why, he’s the young American doctor down in -Brazil who advised me to come to you,” he explained -wonderingly. “He said he had studied under you in -medical school.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed! That’s very interesting,” murmured the -specialist. “Hundreds of young men have studied -under me, however. I suppose I might say thousands.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -It is gratifying to be remembered by one of them, of -course, but I cannot be expected——”</p> - -<p>“Then how in the world——”</p> - -<p>“Let’s not waste time over things out of our immediate -concern,” Follansbee interrupted. “Please -remember that my time is valuable, very valuable. -You seem to be slow in getting to the point. I’ll help -you out. I happen to know the nature of your errand, -but am also perfectly well aware that your heart isn’t -in it. Your real desires are of a very different sort. -Isn’t that so?”</p> - -<p>James Stone looked alarmed, as well he might. -His conscience was by no means clear, and the conversation -seemed to be getting on decidedly dangerous -ground.</p> - -<p>“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he -faltered, moistening his lips. “Doctor Floyd had a -fool notion that I was going crazy, or something like -that. I naturally didn’t take very kindly to the idea, -but I was more or less under obligations to him, and -he was so insistent that I promised to look you up. -He said you would help me. Of course, I don’t think -I need any help—of that sort—but I’m a man of my -word, and that’s why I’m here.”</p> - -<p>“Very commendable!” murmured the head of St. -Swithin’s. “Doctor Boyd, or whatever his name is, -was quite right. I can help you, in more ways than -one, and I perceive that what you really want is to -be rid of your former partner, Winthrop Crawford. -Have I hit the nail on the head?”</p> - -<p>A meaning smile crossed the sinister face, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -Follansbee leaned back in his chair, the glance from -his hard little eyes playing over his caller’s face.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="VIII">CHAPTER VIII. -<br /> -<small>“NAME YOUR PRICE.”</small></h2> - - -<p>James Stone looked as if the ground had suddenly -caved from under his feet. His big body stiffened, -his hands clutched his hat, and his startled eyes were -riveted on Follansbee’s countenance. He moistened -his dry lips again and attempted to speak, but it -ended only in a swallow, as evidenced by the movement -in his throat.</p> - -<p>The great specialist seemed to enjoy the sensation -he had made.</p> - -<p>“You know, Mr. Stone,” he went on, “that we -doctors have a way, sometimes, of locating a patient’s -trouble by feeling him over until we find a tender -spot. When he winces, we know we’ve struck it, and -we draw our own conclusions. It’s obvious that I’ve -found your tender spot; therefore, there isn’t any use -in your beating about the bush. I know that you -desire to eliminate Crawford. I might use a stronger -expression, but I’ll spare your feelings to that extent. -Out with it, now, man! You have a lot of poison -bottled up in your system. Let it come out. If -there’s anything wrong with you mentally, as your -friend in Brazil seems to have thought, I’ll find it -out and make due allowances. On the other hand, -if you’re sane, you need be no more afraid of confiding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> -in me. I’m not a policeman, you know—or a -judge. Remember, too, that I have said I could help -you.”</p> - -<p>It was not so much his words, but the manner in -which he uttered them that gave James Stone a certain -confidence.</p> - -<p>Follansbee was as far removed as possible from the -type of the kindly, tolerant, helpful physician. On -the contrary, everything said, every glance he cast—the -whole man, in fact—would have been highly distasteful -to the average person. It was that very thing, -however, that tended to draw Stone out and to make -him reveal the murderous impulses which controlled -him.</p> - -<p>It seemed incredible, but he had a feeling that he -had nothing to fear from the famous Doctor Follansbee; -in fact, that the latter was a possible ally. And -in support of that startling belief, certain words of -young Floyd’s came to him.</p> - -<p>Floyd had said that Follansbee was very eccentric, -had ways of doing things that were all his own, and -was in the habit of seeming to sympathize with those -who came to him, no matter what they might say -or do.</p> - -<p>The young physician had evidently been a firm believer -in the man who had once been his professor, -but Stone found himself wondering if Follansbee was -what he had seemed to Floyd. He doubted it, and -decided he had found a kindred spirit. Follansbee’s -mask seemed to be slipping off.</p> - -<p>Emboldened by this, the miner dropped his great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> -hands on his knees and leaned forward, flinging a -quick glance about him as he did so.</p> - -<p>“Are you sure we’ll not be heard here?” he asked, -cunning returning to his eyes.</p> - -<p>“Perfectly,” was the answer. “My servants are -well trained, and these walls are much thicker than -those they put into the houses they build nowadays. -You can talk openly and freely, Stone, and your secrets -will be guarded.”</p> - -<p>Stone nodded, and the glitter in his eyes became -more pronounced.</p> - -<p>“You are right, Doctor Follansbee,” he said. “I -can’t figure out how you know, but I want to get rid -of Win Crawford. I—I want to get rid of him before -he gets rid of me.”</p> - -<p>His heavy face was wrinkled into a mask of cunning—the -foolish, vacant cunning of the insane.</p> - -<p>“He thinks he’s clever,” Stone went on; “thinks I -don’t know what he’s going to do. But I’m as cute -as he is, and I’ve tumbled to him.”</p> - -<p>Follansbee had folded his long, flexible fingers and -was leaning his shoulders on the arms of his chair. -His evil-looking eyes were slowly taking on a mocking -twinkle as they looked at the features of the man -in front of him.</p> - -<p>The skilled specialist had no further doubt about -the matter. At that moment he knew to a certainty -that James Stone was mad, and that his was the most -dangerous form of insanity, for it centered only on -one object.</p> - -<p>Outwardly and in his everyday life, Stone might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -move and conduct himself as an ordinary individual, -but lurking always in his diseased brain was one wild -and terrible fancy—an insane fear and hatred of the -man who in the brighter, if less prosperous, past he -had once risked his life to save.</p> - -<p>It remained to be seen, however, in what Follansbee’s -treatment of the case would consist.</p> - -<p>“So you think that your partner is going to kill -you, do you?” the specialist asked.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think—I know!” the husky voice returned. -“All this is only a game of his. He has brought me -to New York because he was afraid to do it in Brazil. -I have too many friends there, but he’ll find I’m too -much for him. Ha, ha! He’ll find out!”</p> - -<p>The laugh was so ugly and hollow, and the man so -obviously getting more and more excited that Follansbee -decided to stave off a further outburst.</p> - -<p>“That’s all right,” he said soothingly. “I’m sure -you will be able to look after yourself.”</p> - -<p>“I’m going to do more than that,” Stone announced -malignantly. “I’m going to kill him before he has -a chance to kill me.”</p> - -<p>It was clear that he had thrown off all fear of -Follansbee, either under the influence of his own misguided -desires or his belief that the head of St. Swithin’s -was not what he seemed to the world.</p> - -<p>With a quick movement he rose to his feet, and, -leaning over the desk, looked down into the physician’s -eyes with a face that worked convulsively.</p> - -<p>“And you’ve got to help me!” he added. “I’ve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -tried three times to do it, twice on board the <em>Cortez</em>, -but luck was against me every time.”</p> - -<p>“Three times!” Follansbee repeated, in astonishment. -“Then Crawford knows what you’re up to?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, he knows,” Stone answered, “but that doesn’t -make any difference. He’s a fool, and he thinks he’s -got to stick by me to wait his own chance. He and -I are staying at the same hotel in connecting rooms. -We breakfasted at the same table this morning, and I -had hard work to get away from him.”</p> - -<p>“That’s queer,” the specialist remarked thoughtfully. -“He must be a fool!”</p> - -<p>His surprise was genuine. He was not capable -of fathoming the true cause of Crawford’s devotion -to his old comrade—could not understand that Stone’s -partner had forgiven and deliberately left his life in -jeopardy for the sake of other days.</p> - -<p>And in James Stone’s distorted brain there was no -more idea of the truth. He stabbed at the desk with -one thick finger.</p> - -<p>“That’s his cursed cunning, I tell you!” he declared. -“He’s waiting until he gets good and ready to strike. -By Heaven, I can’t sleep at night, sometimes, for -thinking of it! That’s why he doesn’t leave me, -even though I’ve tried three times to kill him. He’s -just waiting his chance, waiting his chance.”</p> - -<p>The hoarse voice was lifted until it broke.</p> - -<p>“But his chance isn’t going to come!” the demented -man insisted. “He won’t live to get it! You’ve got -to help me, I tell you. Floyd sent me to you because -he caught me trying to shoot Crawford out there,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -and thought I was crazy. You know better, though, -and I know something about you. Floyd thinks -you’re only a great doctor, but he’s a kid, and he doesn’t -know the world as I do. I ain’t crazy, Doctor Stephen -Follansbee; I ain’t a fool. Maybe New York thinks -you’re a saint, for all I know—though I don’t see how -it can when it looks at that face of yours! But I -know you’re not. You may be the king-pin of your -profession, but you’re a crook as well—as big a rascal -as ever walked the earth! I know something about -men, and you can’t fool me.</p> - -<p>“Now, let’s get down to business,” he continued. -“Charlie Floyd sent me here for one kind of help, -but you’ve opened the way for another—and that’s -the kind I want. I ain’t very good at this sort of -thing, I’ll admit. I’ve failed three times, but if you -take it on, I guess you’ll get your man at the first -crack. If you can’t I’ve got you wrong. I’m willing -to pay well, but I don’t want any backing and filling -about it. So name your price and let’s get busy, -Doctor Stephen Follansbee, for time is on the wing.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="IX">CHAPTER IX. -<br /> -<small>A “FAIR” OFFER.</small></h2> - - -<p>“Sit down and cool off,” Doctor Follansbee advised; -and under his compelling gaze his visitor subsided and -sank into a chair.</p> - -<p>The head of St. Swithin’s Hospital studied Stone -for some moments without showing the slightest sign<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -of emotion as a result of the astounding proposition -which had just been made to him. His long, capable, -surgeon’s fingers tapped against one another, and his -cold, dark eyes seemed to have no more feeling in -them than a couple of highly polished stones.</p> - -<p>“You take a great deal for granted, Mr. James -Stone,” he remarked at last, in his thin, squeaking -tones. “I might have you confined in an asylum for -that, you know—or turned over to the police.”</p> - -<p>“You might, but you won’t,” his caller said, with -a half growl. “I’ve taken your measure, Follansbee, -and if your time is as valuable as you say, you’ll stop -wasting it. I asked your price, and I’m prepared to -pay anything in reason to have this business taken off -my hands.”</p> - -<p>The faint semblance of a smile twisted Follansbee’s -thin lips.</p> - -<p>“Rough and ready,” he murmured. “A South -American edition of the old ‘wild and woolly’ Westerner. -He wants what he wants when he wants it, -and he isn’t bashful about asking for it.”</p> - -<p>He paused for a moment and then went on:</p> - -<p>“Well, my genial friend, I won’t abuse your confidence. -Professional ethics forbid. As for your -opinion of me, I care nothing for that. Perhaps I -look upon it as only another evidence of mental disease.”</p> - -<p>“Will you help me or won’t you?” Stone broke in.</p> - -<p>“Most assuredly I will,” was the quiet answer. -“I’ll help you in my own way, and if I’m to do so,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -you must put yourself wholly in my hands. Will you -promise?”</p> - -<p>Stone’s heart sank, and he looked askance at Follansbee -for a few moments. The latter’s words -sounded a little too professional to suit him. His belief -that the physician was a rascal was rooted deep, -however, and overshadowed everything else.</p> - -<p>“I’ll agree to almost anything if you’ll do what I -want done,” he said.</p> - -<p>“I’ll do what needs to be done,” was the evasive -answer. “You asked my terms, though, and I must -warn you that they’re high. Some of the richest men -in the world come to me, and I have no time to waste -with those who cannot afford to pay my price. You -can, if you’re willing to do so.”</p> - -<p>“How much?” Stone asked, in a more subdued -tone.</p> - -<p>Follansbee’s preamble sounded formidable.</p> - -<p>“I don’t expect to get you for nothing,” the miner -went on. “You must know of a thousand ways of—of -getting rid of people—ways by which no one -would be any the wiser. I’m willing to pay for that -knowledge, but I’m not a millionaire, you know.”</p> - -<p>“I’m aware of that,” piped Follansbee, “and shall -take the fact into account. That being so, my fee -will be only forty-five thousand dollars!”</p> - -<p>James Stone started at the mention of this enormous -sum.</p> - -<p>“That is the best I can do,” Doctor Follansbee -went on, in his cold tones. “Remember that if I -assist you to get rid of your partner, I also assist you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -to add his share of the proceeds from the sale of the -Condor to your own.” The hawklike face was very -hard now, and the beady eyes glowed sternly. “You -will receive at least four hundred and fifty thousand -dollars after the death of Winthrop Crawford,” he -continued. “I’m only asking ten per cent of that -amount.”</p> - -<p>His tone was calm and calculating. Stone saw the -point which Follansbee had made, but he could not -penetrate the latter’s armor.</p> - -<p>Follansbee had not said in so many words that he -would help him to get rid of his partner. He had -promised to help “in his own way.” To be sure, -this calculation, based on Crawford’s death, seemed -to commit him, but Stone found himself wondering -if he were only being played with. Had the doctor -merely mentioned that in order to draw him on and -get his own price? Of what was the promise of help -to consist? He voiced his doubts, but his words were -met in the same sphinxlike way.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I can’t enlighten you as to that,” Follansbee -told him. “It isn’t proper for a physician to -make definite promises, and it’s very unprofessional -to outline methods. I have agreed to take your case -for forty-five thousand dollars, and I promise to give -it my best attention and the benefit of my long knowledge. -That is all anybody but a quack can say. -You’ll have to take it or leave it. If you’re so thoroughly -persuaded that I’m a scoundrel, you oughtn’t -to hesitate.”</p> - -<p>His smile was a maddening enigma.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> - -<p>Under the influence of this skillful handling, the -tanned face widened into a smile, and Stone nodded -his head. “All right,” he said. “I forgot about the -money. Crawford has made his will in my favor, and -if he dies without involving me I’ll get his share, of -course.”</p> - -<p>“That’s my understanding of the situation,” Follansbee -agreed.</p> - -<p>“That’s right—that’s right! How you got on to -it, though, Heaven only knows!”</p> - -<p>“Then you’re willing to pay me the fee I demand?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose it’s worth it. Yes, I’ll pay it.”</p> - -<p>“A wise decision,” murmured Follansbee.</p> - -<p>He reached out a lean hand and swung a pad of -blotting paper round, then placed a pen and inkwell -beside it.</p> - -<p>“Now I want you to sit down here and write me out -a check for forty-five thousand dollars. To-day is -the seventeenth, and I want you to date your check -the twenty-seventh. That gives me ten days, and if at -the end of that time Winthrop Crawford is still troubling -you, all you have to do is to go to your bank -and stop payment on your check. Is that fair?”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="X">CHAPTER X. -<br /> -<small>THE RAISED CHECK.</small></h2> - - -<p>“I couldn’t ask anything more than that,” Stone -admitted.</p> - -<p>He felt sure now that Follansbee would do all he -wished, despite the fact that he had been able to pin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -him down. He assumed that that was merely the -doctor’s caution and cleverness, and the offer to allow -him to date the check ahead came with an unexpected -sense of relief.</p> - -<p>To be sure, Follansbee had put it with his customary -vagueness. He had not said, “if at the end of that -time, Crawford is still alive,” but only “if he’s still -troubling you.”</p> - -<p>That might mean any one of a number of things, -but, as was his way, Stone interpreted it as best suited -him. He drew a check book from his pocket, and, -pulling a chair forward, seated himself at the desk. -His head was bent, and he could not see Follansbee’s -face. Had he been able to do so, he might have been -struck by the curious look that was now in the little -eyes.</p> - -<p>When Stone had filled in the check, all except the -signature, he found that the ink on the point had given -out, and he stretched out his hand to dip the pen into -the inkwell again. At the same moment Follansbee -also reached out, apparently to push the well nearer -to his visitor. Between them, in some manner the -well was upset, and a small quantity of the black fluid -it contained made a round patch on the top of the desk.</p> - -<p>“Never mind!” Follansbee hastened to say, in answer -to Stone’s regretful exclamation. “It doesn’t -matter. Let it be. You can finish with this.” As -he spoke, he took another ink bottle from the back -of the desk, removed the cork, and placed it within -easy reach.</p> - -<p>Stone mechanically dipped the pen into the new<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> -receptacle and scrawled his signature at the bottom of -the check, after which he handed the slip of paper to -Follansbee.</p> - -<p>“Thanks!” the specialist said carelessly, turning the -check over and blotting it on the pad. “Now give -me the name of your hotel and the number of your -room.”</p> - -<p>“The Hotel Windermere, room number twenty-two,” -was the reply.</p> - -<p>Follansbee jotted it down on the back of a card, -and then looked at his watch.</p> - -<p>“I must be going now,” he said. “I’m overdue at -the hospital. I will be engaged there until six o’clock, -but I’ll phone you as soon after that as possible.”</p> - -<p>Stone picked up his hat and peered at the inscrutable -face for a moment, as if in a last attempt to read the -thoughts behind it.</p> - -<p>“You’re sure you can do it?” he asked hoarsely.</p> - -<p>“Nothing is absolutely sure in this world, even the -performance of a specialist,” was the cool reply. -“However”—and he tapped the check, the blank side -of which was turned uppermost, with one forefinger—“there -is my fee; and you may rest assured that I -shall do my best to earn it.”</p> - -<p>Half insane though he was, James Stone was greatly -impressed. Follansbee had not showed his hand once -during the interview. At best he had only given a -momentary glimpse at his cards, but there was a hint -of strength, of unusual power of one kind or another -behind that hard mask.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Very well, doctor,” the miner returned. “I shall -expect to hear from you this evening.”</p> - -<p>He strode across the room, Follansbee following -him with his short, noiseless steps. When the double -doors were reached and opened, the doctor put out his -hand and Stone felt a cold, dry palm thrust into his -own moist, hot one.</p> - -<p>“Until this evening,” Follansbee said, with a bow -that was almost courtly, despite its mocking character.</p> - -<p>Stone passed through the reception room, and the -little man closed the double doors of the office behind -him.</p> - -<p>Bending forward, Follansbee tilted his head at an -angle like that of a listening bird. He remained in -that position until the noise of the closing door told -him that the miner had left the house; then, turning, -he darted across the room toward his desk and seized -upon the check. A low, disagreeable laugh broke -from his lips as his eyes alighted on the face of it, -for date, number, payee’s name, and amount had all -disappeared, and the only words that remained were -the two which constituted the signature—“James -Stone.”</p> - -<p>The doctor’s eyes turned to the desk where the -“ink” which had been used had been spilled, but the -mysterious volatile liquid had already disappeared -from the surface, and only a little grayish powder -remained.</p> - -<p>That, too, quickly vanished, as Follansbee blew it -away.</p> - -<p>Then, dropping into a chair in front of the desk,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -and in a strong, bold hand—in stern contrast to his -size and quick, nervous movement—he filled in the -rest of the check once more. He made it out, of -course, to himself, as before, and reproduced the -vanished number from memory. That was an easy -matter, since he had been looking over Stone’s shoulder; -but this time the date put down was the twenty-fifth -instead of the twenty-seventh, and the amount -was not forty-five thousand dollars, but—four hundred -and fifty thousand!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XI">CHAPTER XI. -<br /> -<small>A DISTINGUISHED SCOUNDREL.</small></h2> - - -<p>“Yes, my friend, I intend to earn my fee,” the -cold voice declared to the empty room. “The only -difference is that the fee is somewhat larger than I’ve -given you reason to believe.”</p> - -<p>Leaning back in his chair, Doctor Stephen Follansbee -blotted the check, then, taking a bunch of keys -from his pocket, he unlocked the top drawer of the -desk and slipped the check into a small leather-bound -book which lay inside.</p> - -<p>“Just to make sure that I receive my just dues,” he -went on, “I’ll turn this check in on Saturday instead -of Monday. You’re mad enough on one point, James -Stone, but you’re a shrewd man outside of that, and -it might occur to you to stop payment on that check.” -His short, cackling laugh rang out anew.</p> - -<p>Half an hour later he left his house. He did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -seem to be in as much of a hurry as he had said, as -he made his way leisurely, and on foot, to his destination.</p> - -<p>He made a striking figure as he proceeded. His -face alone would have attracted attention anywhere, -but his dress was eccentric in its shabbiness. His -arms were folded behind his back in a very unusual, -but thoroughly characteristic way, and his little, lashless -eyes were bent on the ground. Many passers-by -stopped to stare at him as he passed, and not a few -recognized him.</p> - -<p>“He’s the great Doctor Follansbee, the head of St. -Swithin’s Hospital!” they told one another. “You’d -never think it to look at him, would you? He looks -more like a mummy than anything else.”</p> - -<p>Careless of these comments and of the mild sensation -his appearance always created, Follansbee soon -reached the hospital, passed through the imposing -entrance, and went on down the broad corridor to his -private room. As soon as he had seated himself at -his desk and glanced hastily through the few reports -and other documents which lay there, he pressed one -of several buzzer buttons on a small switchboard attached -to his desk.</p> - -<p>In response to the summons, the resident physician -in charge quickly entered. Follansbee spent half an -hour listening to the reports of the various cases and -to matters of hospital routine. That done, he issued -a few instructions in his sharp voice, and the physician -left the room.</p> - -<p>Other heads of departments followed, and for two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -hours Follansbee was constantly engaged. At the end -of that time, though, he rose to his feet and passed -through into an adjoining room which was fitted up -as a private laboratory and workshop.</p> - -<p>Crossing to one side of the room along which rows -of shelves had been placed, he opened a small, glass-doored -cupboard, and, leaning forward, took a small -case of test tubes from one of the shelves, which contained -serum of various types. Going back to his -desk, the doctor seated himself and began to work. -Evidently he was thinking something out with the aid -of pencil and paper. He had a pad in front of him, -and on it he scrawled a few lines of straggling writing. -Then, after a prolonged pause, he jotted down -a few more words.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said to himself presently, “I think that -will be the best way. There’s no reason why Crawford -could not have been exposed to disease before -his arrival. He has just landed in New York, and if -I succeed in getting at him within the next day or so, -there will be no reason for any one to suspect.”</p> - -<p>He leaned back in his chair.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry, though, that that mad fool attacked -him,” he went on musingly, “for, despite what Stone -says, I feel sure that Crawford must be on his guard -now.”</p> - -<p>That was the point in the case which baffled Follansbee -for the moment. He could not understand -why Crawford, after no less than three attempts had -been made on his life, should still be willing to occupy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -a room which connected directly with that of his -would-be murderer. At last, with a shrug of his -shoulders, he dismissed the subject.</p> - -<p>“After all, it doesn’t matter very much,” he mumbled -to himself. “The attempts which Stone has -made are only known to four or five persons at most. -They are the two most concerned, young Floyd, and -the stranger who, according to Stone’s admission, separated -him and Crawford on the boat. His knowledge -and that of Floyd would be dangerous if Crawford -were to be put out of the way in any ordinary -fashion, but neither would be suspicious if he succumbed -to a tropical disease. It would never occur -to them to question his death under such circumstances, -and even if it did, they wouldn’t give Stone credit -for so much ingenuity. As for me, I’m above suspicion, -except in the eyes of a very few persons—notably -Nick Carter’s. I shouldn’t like him to get -wind of this, but there’s little or no likelihood of his -doing so.”</p> - -<p>James Stone had not known of the detective’s -identity, because the latter’s name had not appeared -on the passenger list of the <em>Cortez</em>, and, strictly speaking, -it had been a breach of confidence on the part of -the chief steward when the latter had revealed Carter’s -name to Crawford. Had Follansbee known more of -the mysterious stranger whose intervention had been -so unfortunate from Stone’s standpoint, even his cold, -hard calm would have been broken up, and he would -have cut off his right hand rather than have anything -to do with the affair. So far as his knowledge went,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -however, it seemed sufficiently safe to venture on what -he had in view.</p> - -<p>“Anyhow, I run no risk,” he concluded. “Both -Stone and Crawford seem to have no friends in the -city, and if there should be a coroner’s inquest the -death would be put down as resulting from natural -causes.”</p> - -<p>He ran his fingers over the test tubes with a touch -that was almost caressing, and on his sallow, leathery -face there rested a malevolent smile.</p> - -<p>“My first step in the career of crime,” he resumed, -“was not very successful, I’ll have to admit. It involved -considerable risk, and I was infernally lucky -to have crawled out of it as well as I did. I was a -fool then, though, and I won’t take any such risks -in future. I’ll be the ‘man behind’ this time. Stone -will execute the work, and when it’s duly accomplished, -the reward will be mine, and I think I can -worry along for some time on that amount.”</p> - -<p>Floyd, in his misguided effort to be thorough, had -sent a number of details which might well have been -omitted. They had enabled Follansbee to make a -great show of knowledge, and by his evasions in respect -to the source of it had greatly contributed to -Stone’s bewilderment. They had also made it possible -for the unscrupulous head of St. Swithin’s to -fill in the check for the amount that was only fifty -thousand dollars short of the entire sum which Stone -was supposed to have realized from the sale of the -Condor Mine. He would have liked to claim even -more, but he did not dare, for fear of overdrawing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -the miner’s account and thereby creating a difficulty -when the time came for the bank to honor the check. -Therefore he had shrewdly fixed his “fee” at that -sum, in order to allow for any reasonable withdrawals -on Stone’s part.</p> - -<p>In that and other ways Floyd’s letter had been of -the greatest assistance, and had served a purpose the -nature of which its writer had never dreamed. It -would have seemed incredible to the young physician, -whose profession was sacred to him, and in whose -eyes Stephen Follansbee was everything that was desirable—except -in external appearances.</p> - -<p>Well he might. Few would have been willing to -believe for a moment that the famous specialist could -be guilty of such juggling with checks, and much less -that he would consent to engage in a criminal conspiracy, -the end of which was scientific murder, with any -man—least of all one he knew to be mentally diseased. -Yet, such was the fact.</p> - -<p>Now and then a physician—sometimes a really -great one—goes wrong and plays false to the tremendous -responsibility which he has assumed. -Stephen Follansbee was one of the most conspicuous -examples of this. He had started out with the highest -motives, and worked his way up by hard work and -sheer weight of ability. He had always been supremely -selfish, however, and had possessed little or -no heart. He had won fame in spite of his repellent -appearance and his cold, unsympathetic nature. But -that fame, and the reward which followed it, had not -been enough for him. There was an evil streak in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> -him, and it had become more pronounced as the years -passed.</p> - -<p>He had begun by using his position to cover up -indefensible experiments on patients, especially those -who were poor and obscure. Emboldened by his freedom -from penalty, he had gone on and indulged in -more daring and ruthless work. Most of it had been -in the name of medical knowledge, to be sure, and had -had the sanction of not a few fellow practitioners, but -it was none the less criminal.</p> - -<p>At length, a year or so before, he had dared to try -a particularly heartless experiment on a famous author, -but while it was still in one of its early stages, Nick -Carter had learned of it—it doesn’t matter how—and -had effectually interfered. Incidentally, the detective -had prevented Follansbee from collecting fifty thousand -dollars for his services, as he called them.</p> - -<p>It had not been an indictable offense, and so Follansbee -went unpunished. Carter had been obliged to -content himself with a scathing denunciation, and a -warning to keep straight in the future. To the best -of the detective’s knowledge, Follansbee had done so. -This chance, however, had been too much for the distinguished -scoundrel.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XII">CHAPTER XII. -<br /> -<small>THE DEADLY TUBE.</small></h2> - - -<p>While unconsciously playing into Follansbee’s -hands, Floyd had opened the way for a diabolical -crime.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> - -<p>The head of St. Swithin’s had adroitly pulled the -wool over James Stone’s eyes, and kept the half-crazed -miner from knowing just what to expect; but -nevertheless the specialist’s mind had been made up -from the beginning. He had planned it all out after -receiving the letter.</p> - -<p>As for his recognition of the miner, which had so -startled his visitor, it had been a very simple matter, -and quite within the capacity of one much less shrewd -than Stephen Follansbee. Floyd had announced that -Stone and Crawford had taken passage on the <em>Cortez</em>. -Follansbee had taken pains to learn when the vessel -had docked, and when, later, the big, bronzed man had -presented himself, the caller’s name had, to the doctor, -been as good as written over his face.</p> - -<p>That Stone was undoubtedly a victim of some mental -derangement did not matter to Follansbee in the -least. Almost any other physician would have been -affected by the man’s plight, and would have thought -of nothing but the best way to cure him. Not so -Follansbee, however. His apology for a heart had -been hard in the beginning, and it had grown steadily -harder as a result of his ostensibly scientific, but really -devilish, experiments on unfortunate sufferers.</p> - -<p>Had there been a spark of honor in him, he would -have done all in his power to keep the irresponsible -Stone from crime, and, if possible, to banish his ailment; -but instead he determined to use the demented -man for his own ends to help him to murder, and -finally to strip him of his fortune.</p> - -<p>His conscience had not given him a single twinge,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -for the very good reason that he had none. In fact, -the prospective divisions of wealth seemed to him -eminently right and proper. He might be taking -away Stone’s fortune, but he would be giving him -Crawford’s in place of it. In other words, he reasoned -that Stone would be getting the job done for -practically nothing, and the four hundred and fifty -thousand, while generous pay, was not a cent too much -according to Follansbee’s view of it. He knew as -well as any one could have known that, though he -might try to shift the responsibility as much as he -pleased, it lay with him, after all, and he wanted pay -for it.</p> - -<p>Moreover, he coveted wealth, more wealth than he -had been able to amass through the many handsome -fees that were pouring in all the time from the rich -and great who were numbered among his patients. -He wished to build a hospital of his own, of which -he should be even more the master than was possible -at St. Swithin’s. He longed for expensive laboratories -built and equipped along new lines, not for the -good of humanity, but to further his own peculiar -ambitions. Stone’s money, with what he already possessed, -would go far toward realizing these ambitions, -and he was willing to take almost any risk to further -his conscienceless aims.</p> - -<p>The hours passed away swiftly, and at about seven -o’clock in the evening Follansbee, returning from a -round of the wards, entered his private office and went -to the telephone. He rang up the Hotel Windermere -and asked for Stone. The clerk informed him that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -Mr. Stone was not in the hotel at that time, but might -return at any moment. “If you care to leave a message, -it will be delivered to him as soon as he arrives,” -the man went on.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” Follansbee returned, after a pause. -“Tell him that the gentleman whom he visited on -Amsterdam Avenue this morning will be at the hotel -about half past seven, and will wait for him in the -lobby.”</p> - -<p>The clerk took down the message and repeated it, -after which Follansbee replaced the receiver and prepared -to leave the hospital. By means of an intercommunicating -phone, he called up St. Swithin’s garage -and had his car, which he kept there, brought round -to the entrance. As he crossed the pavement to enter -it, he lifted one long, lean hand and pressed a smooth, -round object in his breast pocket.</p> - -<p>Little did the passers-by dream that, concealed in -the clothing of that sinister, shabbily dressed, but -nevertheless distinguished figure, was a tube containing -deadly bacilli in a quantity sufficient to spread -death for miles around—even, if unchecked, to sweep -throughout the entire country.</p> - -<p>Thus, like the shadow of death itself, the vulturelike -form of Stephen Follansbee slipped into the big -limousine, and was winged away to the Hotel Windermere.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XIII">CHAPTER XIII. -<br /> -<small>CHICK SIGHTS THE “BUZZARD.”</small></h2> - - -<p>“Who is it, please?”</p> - -<p>Chick Carter, with his ear to the receiver, waited -for the reply.</p> - -<p>“This is Winthrop Crawford. I wish to speak to -Mr. Nick Carter, if I may.”</p> - -<p>It was about two o’clock in the afternoon of the -same day that had witnessed the meeting of Stone -and Doctor Follansbee.</p> - -<p>Unfortunately, Nick had just left the house, but -his assistant had heard about Crawford.</p> - -<p>“The chief isn’t in just now, Mr. Crawford,” he -said, “but I don’t think he’ll be gone very long. Is -there anything I can do for you? I’m his assistant.”</p> - -<p>“Are you the man who was with him on board the -<em>Cortez</em>?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you’ll do as well, then. Are you busy -just now?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“Could you come down to the Hotel Windermere? -I don’t suppose it’s very much, but I’d like to talk -with one of you. I could come to your house, though, -if you prefer.”</p> - -<p>There was no reason why Chick should not accept -the invitation.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No,” he said. “I’ll come down. I’m afraid I -can’t reach the hotel before three, though.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s all right; there’s no particular hurry.”</p> - -<p>The detective replaced the receiver, saw to a few -matters which demanded his attention, and then, after -some twenty-five or thirty minutes, scribbled a brief -message to his chief, and left it on the latter’s desk—the -usual information, telling where he had gone, -and why.</p> - -<p>Chick had never accustomed himself to riding in -motor cars when it was unnecessary; therefore, he set -out briskly for the nearest subway station.</p> - -<p>“The chief seems very interested in Crawford,” he -thought, as he walked along. “We might as well get -in touch with him as soon as we can.”</p> - -<p>He reached the Windermere a little after three, and -found Crawford waiting for him in the lobby.</p> - -<p>The bearded man seemed to be troubled about something, -but his face brightened when Chick appeared. -He led the way to one of the rooms which opened off -the lobby. It proved to be deserted.</p> - -<p>“It’s nothing very important,” Crawford explained, -when they had seated themselves in a quiet, remote -corner, “but I’m just a little troubled about my partner, -Stone. He left the hotel immediately after breakfast -this morning, and wouldn’t tell me where he was -going. He said he would be back in time for lunch, -but he hasn’t turned up yet.” He glanced at Chick for -a moment. “Of course. I’m not going to worry much -about that,” he went on, “but in case he doesn’t appear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -by dinner time, I just wanted to know what to -do. This New York of yours is a very bewildering -place to a man who hasn’t been in it for twenty-five -or thirty years, and I would be at a loss to know how -to proceed.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s easy enough,” Chick said quietly. “If -he doesn’t show up by night, and you don’t get a message, -the best thing to do would be to ring up police -headquarters and give a description of him. If anything -had happened, they would be in a position to -let you know sooner than any one else. They have -the whole thing at their finger’s ends down there, and -handle ordinary cases with routine dispatch. You -mustn’t have any anxiety about Mr. Stone, though. -He’s surely able to take care of himself. He may -have fallen in with some old friends, or made a new -one.”</p> - -<p>“It does sound foolish, and I suppose you’re right,” -Crawford admitted. “This place has got me scared, -though. I have been used to solitude for a good many -years, and the only crowds I’ve known have been those -about the bars in mining camps. There must be a -frightful number of accidents here every day.”</p> - -<p>He turned slightly in his chair and looked out -through a near-by window into the traffic-filled street.</p> - -<p>“You’re free to laugh at me,” he went on, “but -I’m almost afraid to venture out alone. It looks to -me as if a man has to take his life in his hands every -time he crosses the street in this pandemonium.” He -paused again and smiled appealingly. “If you’ve -got an hour or so to spare, would it be too much to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -ask you to pilot me around a bit?” he inquired. “I’d -appreciate it, I assure you.”</p> - -<p>The deep, friendly voice had a certain charm in it -which the detective found it impossible to resist.</p> - -<p>“Of course I’ll come gladly,” he said.</p> - -<p>He and Crawford left the hotel and strolled along -the crowded pavements. The grizzled miner seemed -to find a keen delight in halting to examine almost -every window they passed.</p> - -<p>“Spending years in the open makes a man fairly -hungry for this sort of thing. I’ve longed to be back -home again just to look into these very shop windows.”</p> - -<p>His enthusiasm was infectious, and he and Chick -walked along, laughing and chatting together. They -dropped in at the public library, and Crawford could -hardly tear himself away.</p> - -<p>When they reached the street again and started back -toward Broadway, Chick happened to glance at a -jeweler’s clock.</p> - -<p>“Half past five!” he ejaculated. “By George! I -had no idea it was as late as that.”</p> - -<p>“Late be hanged!” Crawford answered, with a -laugh. “The game is young yet. Let’s have a look -in at one of those continuous performances I’ve heard -so much about—that is, unless you have to get back.”</p> - -<p>The detective had nothing pressing in view, and he -was thoroughly enjoying Crawford’s comments on -what they saw. He, therefore, expressed his willingness -to do whatever his companion wished, and -conducted the latter to a combination moving-picture<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -and vaudeville house, where they spent a little over an -hour.</p> - -<p>It was after seven when they returned to the hotel.</p> - -<p>“I’ll just go and see if Stone has come back,” Crawford -said anxiously. “I won’t be long.”</p> - -<p>Chick nodded assent and seated himself in one corner -of the lobby, while the miner made for the elevator.</p> - -<p>Nick Carter’s assistant had bought an evening paper -and stuffed it into his pocket. He now took it out -and began glancing over it.</p> - -<p>Presently, as he lowered the paper to turn the page, -his eyes chanced to look into a mirror set into the -wall beside him. The mirror was so placed that it -reflected the wide entrance of the hotel, and just at -that moment Chick saw a lean, curious figure approach -from the street. He gave a slight start, and stared -for a moment at the familiar reflection, then instinctively -raised the paper again so that it hid his face.</p> - -<p>He never forgot features, and that one brief glance -had been enough for him. As a matter of fact, however, -there was little chance of any one forgetting -Doctor Stephen Follansbee after even the most casual -meeting.</p> - -<p>“The ‘Buzzard’!” he muttered to himself, using the -name he had applied to the famous specialist. “I -wonder what the dickens he’s doing here.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XIV">CHAPTER XIV. -<br /> -<small>NICK’S ASSISTANT DECAMPS.</small></h2> - - -<p>Chick knew all about Doctor Follansbee’s tendencies, -and had assisted his chief in an attempt to scrape -up sufficient evidence against the man to warrant some -definite action.</p> - -<p>They had failed to build up a case that would -amount to anything if brought to trial. To be sure, -they could have brought charges against the head of -St. Swithin’s, and placed him before the medical association, -but there was more than one reason for refraining -from that. For one thing, Carter hesitated to -stir up a scandal which would be bound to follow the -publication of such charges. Owing to Follansbee’s -great prominence, and the very responsible character -of his position as head of a big hospital, the accusation -would tend to discredit the whole profession more or -less, and to shake the public’s faith in such institutions.</p> - -<p>Finally, the detective had always been a firm believer -in the right of a man to have a second chance, -especially when he had much to lose. Follansbee had -had his warning, and nothing had happened since to -give the detective and his assistants any particular -reason for believing that he had failed to profit by it. -They were by no means sure that he had, however, -and had continued to look out for further trouble in -that direction; consequently, Chick was more than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -commonly interested in this chance glimpse of Follansbee.</p> - -<p>As for his action in hiding himself behind the newspaper, -that was merely a mechanical sort of routine -precaution. There was always a certain possibility -that Follansbee might be up to something questionable, -and if he were in this instance the detective did not -wish to be recognized. That would scare the game -away, and his hunter’s instinct shrank from the possibility -of such a catastrophe.</p> - -<p>Half a minute later he had cause to congratulate -himself on his presence of mind.</p> - -<p>He was not more than twenty feet from the clerk’s -desk, which Follansbee had approached.</p> - -<p>“Is Mr. James Stone in?”</p> - -<p>The question was put in the doctor’s thin, piping -voice, which hardly carried to Chick, and wrenched -a little gasp of amazement from him.</p> - -<p>“Stone!” he thought. “That can’t be anybody but -Crawford’s partner. The Buzzard is asking for -Stone. What does it mean?”</p> - -<p>He strained his ears to catch the reply, but the -clerk’s voice was low and indistinct. A moment later, -however, Follansbee remarked audibly: “All right, I’ll -wait for him here in this first sitting room for a few -minutes.”</p> - -<p>Manipulating his paper cautiously, so that Follansbee -could not see his entire face, even in the glass, -Chick glanced at the latter with one eye. He was -just in time to see the doctor move off and pass into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -one of the rooms which opened off from the lobby, the -one nearest to the clerk’s desk.</p> - -<p>Chick felt instinctively that the discovery he had -made was of considerable importance. He had come -to look upon Follansbee with suspicion, and he was -aware of Stone’s attempts upon Crawford’s life. To -be sure, he also knew that Stone had been advised to -consult a specialist in New York. It might well be, -of course, that the specialist in question was Stephen -Follansbee, and that the miner had gone to him in -good faith. The connection between them, however, -whatever it was, seemed to deserve a little more attention. -At any rate, he felt that he ought to inform -his chief at once of the fact that Follansbee had been -inquiring for James Stone.</p> - -<p>“I’ll have to clear out of this,” he thought, “and -I mustn’t let the Buzzard see me, either. If Crawford -should come down and speak to me, Follansbee -might be put on his guard—supposing there’s anything -fishy about his call on Stone. It’s up to me to -make tracks before Crawford comes back.”</p> - -<p>He rose to his feet, and as he did so the elevator -bell gave a subdued buzz. The man in charge closed -the gate, and the elevator shot upward. Chick felt -morally certain that it was Crawford who had rung -the bell, and was waiting to descend. Another might -have laughed at him for the thought, when the big -hotel was well filled with guests, but Chick put enough -faith in it to cause his heart to give a startled bound. -Without a look toward the elevator, he strode along -the lobby in the direction of the door, and hurried out.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -He had barely disappeared when the car sank to the -level of the ground floor, and Winthrop Crawford -emerged.</p> - -<p>The miner looked expectantly toward the corner -where he had left Nick Carter’s assistant, and stopped -short when he found it vacant. His bewildered gaze -traveled over the whole room, and then he approached -a bell boy who was standing in a near-by doorway.</p> - -<p>“Do you happen to know what’s become of the -young man I left in that corner less than five minutes -ago?” he asked, pointing to the chair Chick had occupied.</p> - -<p>“He’s just gone out, sir,” was the reply. “He -hurried past me just before you came down, and shot -out of the door as if he had been sent for.”</p> - -<p>“Did any one speak to him?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, not that I know. Maybe he just thought -of something he had to do.”</p> - -<p>“That’s queer!” Crawford muttered. “I don’t -understand it.”</p> - -<p>Then he suddenly made up his mind. “See if you -can catch him,” he said to the boy. “Hurry! There’s -a dollar in it if you do.”</p> - -<p>The bell boy broke into a run, and Crawford hastily -followed. When he reached the street he saw the uniformed -boy in full flight after a slender, well-dressed -man who was walking swiftly down the street to the -left. It looked like Chick, but in order to make no -mistake, Crawford halted where he was and looked to -the right, then crossed the street. He saw no one else -whose appearance tempted him to follow; consequently,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> -he strode in the wake of the boy. The latter -soon caught up with his man and spoke to him. -Crawford saw the pedestrian halt and turn about.</p> - -<p>“Confound it!” the miner ejaculated under his -breath, when he caught sight of the man’s face. -“That isn’t my man. That fool boy has gone off on -a wild-goose chase!”</p> - -<p>He remained where he was and waited for the return -of the bell boy, who came back sheepishly.</p> - -<p>“It was the wrong man, sir,” the boy explained.</p> - -<p>“So I saw,” was the answer. “Well, here’s something -for your trouble, anyway. I can’t imagine how -my friend got away so quickly.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, sir!” said the boy, as he possessed himself -of a coin. “Maybe he caught a car.”</p> - -<p>“That’s probably what he did,” agreed Crawford.</p> - -<p>The boy left him and walked swiftly back to the -hotel, but the miner followed much more slowly. He -had been very favorably impressed by Chick and could -not account for his sudden disappearance.</p> - -<p>“Did I bore him as much as that?” he wondered. -“He might at least have left some excuse, I should -think, even if I had taken up too much of his time. -If he had stayed he could have advised me about -Jimmy.”</p> - -<p>He had failed to find Stone in his room, and the -place seemed to indicate that his partner had not been -there since morning. Yet, despite his anxiety, he was -very reluctant to do anything, since he knew that if -Stone were all right, he would greatly resent anything -which looked like meddling with his affairs. When<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -Crawford returned to the lobby of the Windermere, -however, he found that his brief absence had brought -developments.</p> - -<p>These developments were to have considerable bearing -on his affairs, although he was not to know of -that for the present. While he was out of the building, -Stone had returned, and had met Doctor Follansbee.</p> - -<p>When Crawford reappeared, the clerk beckoned to -him.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Stone has just come in, Mr. Crawford, and -has gone to his room with a friend,” he was informed.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XV">CHAPTER XV. -<br /> -<small>A BAD COMBINATION.</small></h2> - - -<p>A look of great relief passed over Crawford’s face -as he thanked the clerk.</p> - -<p>“Friend, eh?” he said to himself. “I didn’t think -he had a single one in these parts, except myself, and -I’m afraid he doesn’t think I’m his friend now.”</p> - -<p>The elevator was not at hand; consequently, he -walked upstairs to the second floor. Passing along the -corridor, he halted in front of number twenty-two -and knocked.</p> - -<p>“Who is that?” came the thick voice of James Stone.</p> - -<p>“It’s only Win Crawford,” he returned, turning the -knob of the door. He found it locked, however, and -his partner’s voice called out impatiently:</p> - -<p>“I’m busy just now, and don’t want to be disturbed.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> - -<p>With a shrug of his shoulders, and a return of the -old troubled look on his face, Crawford turned away -and went on to his own room to dress for dinner.</p> - -<p>“Don’t want to be disturbed,” the mine owner -thought, half bitterly. “There’s no mistake about it. -All of his old affection for me is dead. Heaven only -knows how it’s come about, but I’m sure it isn’t my -fault!”</p> - -<p>Presently he was standing in front of his dresser, -glancing mechanically at his bearded face in the mirror, -and shaking his head.</p> - -<p>“I’d give all I possess to find out what is the matter,” -he said. “Jimmy and I have been like brothers for -years, and the way he’s treating me now is almost -more than I can bear. I sometimes wish we’d never -found the mine, and were back again footing it -through the bush together. We didn’t have any -money, and we never knew where the next meal was -coming from, but—we were friends then.”</p> - -<p>As he crossed to the wardrobe he imagined he heard -his name spoken, and came to a halt close to the connecting -door. It was evident that the barrier was a -thin one.</p> - -<p>A murmur of voices came to his ear; but it was -much too indistinct for him to make out any words. -He could distinguish Stone’s gruff tones, and also the -sound of another voice—a much sharper, higher-pitched -one. But that was all.</p> - -<p>With an effort, Crawford roused himself and -turned away. “Come, come!” he said to himself. -“That isn’t fair. You’ve never been an eavesdropper,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -and you’re not going to turn to that sort of thing at -your time of life.”</p> - -<p>He went on with his dressing, and at length heard -the scrape of a key in the lock of the next door. -Crossing to his own, Crawford opened it quietly and -looked out. Stone was striding down the wide corridor, -and by his side walked a thin, short, dried-up-looking -individual.</p> - -<p>As the two figures turned at the end of the corridor -to go on down the stairs, the electric light at the -landing shone for a moment full on the face of Stone’s -companion. Crawford had a glimpse of a bony jaw, -a hooked, cruel nose, and a pair of small unprepossessing -eyes.</p> - -<p>“By George! What an ugly-looking fellow Jimmy -has picked up!” the miner exclaimed, as he quickly -withdrew his head, in order not to be seen spying on -his old partner. “I wonder who the runt is, and -where Jimmy got hold of him. They seemed to have -something interesting to talk about.”</p> - -<p>He little dreamed that the subject they had found -interesting was himself, and that the object of their -conversation had been the devising of ways and means -for taking his life.</p> - -<p>The future, however, was to reveal it all to him, -and, although he did not suspect anything at that moment -there were others who did.</p> - -<p>The bell boy had been right.</p> - -<p>Chick had indeed run for a passing car and boarded -it after emerging from the Windermere, and that explained -his sudden disappearance from the street.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> - -<p>He had been so full of his discovery, and so anxious -to escape from the hotel before Doctor Follansbee -could see him and connect him with Crawford, -that he had run a certain risk in dodging through the -traffic and flinging himself on a moving trolley.</p> - -<p>When he reached home a few minutes later, he -found dinner waiting for him, and his chief and some -of the others at the table.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Chick!” was the greeting his chief gave him. -“So you’re back at last, are you? I got your message. -Have you been with Crawford all this time?”</p> - -<p>The young detective seated himself hastily, gave an -account of the afternoon’s program and then wound -up with the startling information that he had heard -Doctor Follansbee asking for Stone. At the mention -of the specialist’s name, Carter’s lithe body stiffened, -and he darted a quick glance at Chick.</p> - -<p>“Follansbee and Stone!” he repeated. “That combination -looks bad. I don’t like it.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XVI">CHAPTER XVI. -<br /> -<small>A BIRD OF ILL OMEN.</small></h2> - - -<p>“Neither did I,” his assistant answered. “Don’t -forget, though, that that young doctor down in South -America insisted that Stone should consult a specialist -upon reaching New York. It looks as if Follansbee -were the man.”</p> - -<p>“That seems probable,” Nick agreed, “but it doesn’t -help matters very much. For all I know, Floyd may be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -a scamp himself, and even if he isn’t, and has communicated -with Follansbee in good faith, the latter -may try some trick. Both Crawford and Stone are -the sort of men who would be looked upon as easy -marks. They’ve been out of the country for many -years, and they now possess a million dollars between -them. What’s more, they’re almost friendless here -in New York. That fact would appeal to Follansbee. -He made the mistake of aiming too high the -last time—of trying to victimize a man who was too -well known. If he hasn’t turned over a new leaf—and -I fear he hasn’t—we may be pretty sure that he’ll -tackle a different proposition the next time.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I didn’t feel easy about it,” Chick admitted. -“That’s why I hurried out without waiting for Crawford -to return.”</p> - -<p>A brief silence fell between them, although some -of the others at the table renewed in lower tones the -conversation which Chick’s entrance had interrupted. -The chief was eating mechanically and hurriedly, and -the absent-minded expression on his face told Chick -that something was in prospect.</p> - -<p>Presently the detective refused his dessert, and rose -to his feet. “What’s the number of Crawford’s room -at the Windermere?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Twenty-one,” Chick answered.</p> - -<p>Carter went out into the hall, where the nearest of -the several telephone connections in the house was -located. The listening Chick heard him shuffling over -the pages of the directory, and then caught the click -as the receiver was removed from its hook.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> - -<p>The chief gave a number, and after a little delay -asked: “Is this the Windermere?” In another moment -he went on: “I wish to engage a room for a few -days, and I’m particular about its location. Is number -twenty-two vacant?”</p> - -<p>A slight grin parted his assistant’s lips. “It isn’t?” -he heard his chief ask. “Then how about twenty?” -There was another pause, and then: “Good! I’ll take -it. Mortimer is the name—Thomas Mortimer. Got -that? Thanks!”</p> - -<p>In a moment Carter put his head in at the dining -room door. “I’d like to see you in the study when -you get through,” he said to Chick. “Don’t hurry, -though. There’s time enough.”</p> - -<p>His assistant did justice to the meal, but wasted no -time in conversation with the rest. Fifteen minutes -later he went up to the study and found his chief -seated at the desk.</p> - -<p>“You think Crawford is in danger, then?” Chick -asked, as he entered.</p> - -<p>Carter’s face was grave. “I fear he is,” he said. -“Something tells me that I may be called on to save -our friend’s life again before long—or try to. It’s -more than possible, of course, that my suspicions are -groundless. It isn’t likely that Stone knew Follansbee -was a crook before he called on him. He may -not know it now, and Follansbee may not be planning -anything out of the way. The situation is full -of sinister possibilities, however, and I feel compelled -to get on the ground without much delay. It promises -to be a complicated affair. If Follansbee is running<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -straight, all well and good. On the other hand, he -may be planning to victimize one or the other of the -partners, or both.”</p> - -<p>Chick nodded. “He’s quite capable of doing them -both,” he agreed.</p> - -<p>“There’s no doubt about that,” Carter went on. -“I hope I’m wrong, but I have come to look upon him -as a bird of ill omen. Whenever his vulturelike face -appears, I’m inclined to take it as a sign of impending -trouble. If I misjudge him, I’m sorry, but I -don’t intend to be caught napping this time if I can -help it.”</p> - -<p>“And you’re really going to stay at the Windermere -for the present, chief?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s the least I can do. If Stone has joined -forces with Follansbee, Crawford will have little -chance against them. It would not be so bad if Crawford -would only realize his danger, and would consent -to take proper precautions. As you know, though, -he has already experienced no less than three attacks -on the part of his old partner, and yet he still sticks -by him. I can’t help admiring the man for his loyalty, -but it’s very quixotic, and I feel that I’ll have to guard -him from himself.”</p> - -<p>“Are you going to tell Crawford that you’re coming -to the hotel to live?”</p> - -<p>Nick shook his head decidedly.</p> - -<p>“By no means,” he returned. “Crawford is much -too simple-minded a man for that, and is more than -likely to give me away. I shall disguise myself to-night -before I go there, and you’ll have to hold the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> -fort here while I’m away. Of course, you can communicate -with me whenever you have to.”</p> - -<p>Chick’s face changed its expression.</p> - -<p>“But you’ll give me a chance to take a hand in this -affair as soon as the time is ripe, won’t you, chief?” -he pleaded. “I didn’t come out with flying colors -from our previous bout with Follansbee, and I’d like -to get another crack at him.”</p> - -<p>The chief was at the door of the study now, and -he turned and nodded to his assistant, a slight smile -playing about his lips.</p> - -<p>“All right!” he answered. “You’ll have a chance, -I promise you, if the case shapes up as I anticipate.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XVII">CHAPTER XVII. -<br /> -<small>NICK CARTER MISCALCULATES.</small></h2> - - -<p>At seven o’clock on the evening of the twenty-fourth -the dining room of the Hotel Windermere presented -a scene of animation. The big hotel was fairly -well filled, and most of its guests, as well as many -outsiders, seemed to be on hand.</p> - -<p>At a table in one of the little alcoves sat a quietly -dressed gentleman in evening clothes. A close-clipped, -iron-gray mustache adorned his lips, and the hair on -his temples was tinged with gray, which contrasted -with the deep tan of his hands and neck. He was -known in the hotel as Thomas Mortimer, a wealthy -traveler and sportsman.</p> - -<p>From where he sat, Nick—as we may as well call<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -him—could see the table at which Crawford and -Stone usually seated themselves. He had been in -the hotel constantly, and had kept a sharp watch on -Stone’s movements, but the miner’s actions had puzzled -him not a little. Several times he had met Stone -stalking along the corridor or in the lobby, his brows -knitted, and his lips moving as if he were talking -to himself.</p> - -<p>Nick had been too clever to thrust his companionship -on the man, and Stone did not even know that -“Mortimer” had a room so near to his own. It was -not part of the detective’s policy to allow Stone, or -the more subtle-minded Follansbee, to have a chance -to penetrate his disguise.</p> - -<p>So far, however, he had not been able to find out -anything that was likely to help him in his self-imposed -task of guarding the life of Winthrop Crawford. -Follansbee had not reappeared at the Windermere, -and although there was every possibility that -Stone had been holding some sort of communication -with the scoundrelly physician, the detective had not -been able to discover the means by which he did so.</p> - -<p>Crawford, on his part, had been busy. Several -men had called on him at the hotel, evidently to urge -the advantage of certain investments, and one or two -had been closeted with the miner for several hours. -It was obvious that he was trying to find a safe channel -for some of his money, and probably at the same -time seek an outlet for his own energies. He was -not a man who would be likely to settle down and be -content to do nothing.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> - -<p>James Stone, however, seemed to be of a different -type, or else his insane suspicions of his former partner -kept him in a state of mind which prevented him -from seeking new business responsibilities.</p> - -<p>Nick noted that Stone was the first to take his seat -at the table. Crawford did not put in an appearance -until a few minutes later, and by that time his partner -had already finished the first course. The two -men exchanged a few monosyllables as the meal went -on, and as soon as he had finished, Stone rose with -only the curtest of nods to his partner.</p> - -<p>Nick had already signed the waiter’s slip, but had -been toying with a little fruit. He rose and followed -Stone, but without any sign of hurrying. His man -used the stairs, and the detective followed in the elevator, -reaching the second floor ahead of his quarry.</p> - -<p>Nick’s room, number twenty, occupied an angle of -the corridor, its door being almost opposite the elevator, -while those leading to the rooms occupied by -Stone and Crawford were just around the corner.</p> - -<p>When the detective entered his room, he left his -door slightly ajar, and a few moments later he heard -Stone’s footsteps, as the miner passed and went on -round the angle. Nick gently closed his door and -crossed his room to the window, without turning on -the lights.</p> - -<p>The window looked out into a big courtyard of -the Windermere, and from it, by glancing sharply to -his right, Nick could see the window of Crawford’s -bedroom, and also that of Stone’s, both of which -were not on a line with his, but at right angles.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> - -<p>Peering out through the darkness, he saw a light -leap up suddenly in Stone’s room, and presently the -shadow of a man appeared on the shade.</p> - -<p>The moving shadowgraph was significant. The -detective inferred from Stone’s actions that he must -be putting on a light overcoat.</p> - -<p>“He seems to be going out again,” the detective -commented mentally. “And in that case, I’d better -go ahead again.”</p> - -<p>He stepped back from the window, hurriedly -snapped on the electric lights, and secured his own -hat and walking stick. That done, he left the room, -locked the door behind him, and made for the stairs. -No one followed, and he concluded that something -had delayed Stone.</p> - -<p>The detective slowed down and leisurely entered -the lobby. He seated himself there after buying a -paper at the news stand; but ten minutes passed without -any sign of James Stone.</p> - -<p>“What is keeping him?” he wondered. “Can it be -that he sneaked out through one of the other entrances?”</p> - -<p>The thought was a disagreeable one, and Nick decided -to put it to the test at once, without further -delay. He climbed the stairs once more, hurriedly -entered his own room, and crossed to the window.</p> - -<p>A glance to the right told him that his suspicion -was well founded. There was no light in Stone’s -room now, and it was obvious that the tall miner had -left.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. -<br /> -<small>ON THE FIRE ESCAPE.</small></h2> - - -<p>An exclamation of annoyance broke from Nick -Carter’s lips.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t give him credit for so much cunning,” -he thought. “But hanged if I see why he should have -felt it necessary to skulk away in that fashion. It -can’t be possible that he suspects me, and I don’t -know of any reason why Crawford should not know -of his going out.”</p> - -<p>He concluded on the whole that it was probably -an evidence of the instinctive slyness of the mentally -affected, and nothing more. Further, he concluded -that Stone had probably turned along the corridor in -the other direction, used the servants’ stairs, and left -by one of the side exits. Of course, it was possible -that his demented brain had urged him on to the -use of the fire escape. The more he thought about -it, the more he became convinced that the latter supposition -was nearer the truth. It would be just like -a man in Stone’s condition to resort to such a ruse.</p> - -<p>The miner’s disappearance had been a great disappointment -to the detective. When he had discovered -from the shadows on the drawn shade that -Stone was going out, his hopes had risen. He had -counted on following the man and getting some line -on his movements, but now that was out of the question.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> - -<p>He knew that it was useless to follow Stone after -that delay, but as a result of a few seconds’ deliberation, -he decided not to let the chance slip altogether. -Donning his lightweight overcoat, and buttoning it -up to his chin in order to conceal the conspicuous expanse -of white shirt front—which might draw undesired -attention—he softly raised the sash of his -window and stepped out on the wide sill. The fire -escape did not lead down directly past his room, but -one end of the iron platform came within two or -three feet of the window on the right side.</p> - -<p>It was the simplest matter in the world for Nick -to grasp the rail and to hoist himself over.</p> - -<p>The windows of the hotel were supplied with a -novel patent catch which automatically fastened both -the upper and lower sashes when the latter was pulled -down. Nick, therefore, took pains to leave his window -open after passing through it.</p> - -<p>It was this peculiarity of the windows which had -brought him out on the fire escape. He knew that -if Stone had his wits about him, and had departed -by that route, he must have left his window open or -fixed it in some way to prevent his being locked out. -It was to find if such precautions had been taken -that he had made the effort.</p> - -<p>When he approached Stone’s window, the lower -sash seemed to be closed, but a closer inspection revealed -that a narrow wedge of wood had been inserted, -leaving a half-inch crack at the bottom—just -enough to permit a man’s fingers to get a purchase -on the sash and raise it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was only a trivial thing, but it gave Nick a clew -to what was going to happen.</p> - -<p>“He didn’t want the window to be locked by accident,” -he mused, “and so he placed the wedge there. -That means he’s going to come back this way, and -it seems to me also that he wishes his partner to -think he has been in all the evening—probably that -he has gone to bed. It looks as if things were coming -to a head.”</p> - -<p>There was a cluster of small lights on a pole in -the middle of the big courtyard, and the shades of -many of the windows opening on it were up. It -was light enough, therefore, for the detective to see -with reasonable clearness—and to be seen, if any one -happened to look in his direction.</p> - -<p>He leaned over the rail and peered down. He was -only at the level of the second floor, but the pavement -of the courtyard was flush with the basement; therefore, -two floors beneath him. He looked to see if -the lowest ladder of the fire escape was in place but -saw that it was not.</p> - -<p>“Stone probably dropped from the last platform,” -he concluded. “It wouldn’t have been anything for -a man of his active habits. I wonder how he expects -to get back, though. By George! There’s a painter’s -ladder lying on the pavement on the other side of -the court. Such things never ought to be left around. -The sight of that ladder would tickle a thief to death. -Stone probably saw it and made his plans accordingly.</p> - -<p>“He expects to use it to reach the lower platform, -but I’m curious to know what else is in his mind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -According to Crawford he’s sane enough in all respects -but one—and he wasn’t born yesterday. He -must know that he can’t leave the ladder set up against -the landing when he comes back to his room. If he -does, there will surely be an investigation in the morning, -if not before. Does he merely think that there -will be a little burglar scare which won’t affect him, -or is there something deeper in all this?</p> - -<p>“Has he gone off half-cocked, or—— Great Ned! -I wonder if that can be it. If he were going to bring -some one back with him—some one who would be -leaving by the same route later on who could put the -ladder back where it was originally—that would effectually -remove the difficulty. If Stone is as shrewd as -I give him credit for being, I’ll wager that’s what’s -in the wind. And I can give a guess at his prospective -visitor’s identity.”</p> - -<p>He referred, of course, to Doctor Follansbee; and -the possibility that the latter was expected later on -that night was enough to stir his pulses. It suggested -that the period of inactivity was about to come -to an end, and that the test of his unsolicited guardianship -of Winthrop Crawford was at hand.</p> - -<p>Stone had gone, and it was unnecessary, as well -as useless, to attempt to follow him. All that remained -was to await his return as patiently as possible, -and in the meantime to keep an eye—or at least, -an ear—out for Crawford.</p> - -<p>The latter proved an easy matter, for about an -hour later he heard the door of Crawford’s room open<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -and close, and from his window saw the light flash -up in his new friend’s.</p> - -<p>A glance at his watch told him that it was now -almost ten o’clock. He knew that Crawford was a -man who rose early, and there was every probability -that the miner was about to turn in for the night.</p> - -<p>Nick’s own room had remained in darkness. He -now drew a chair close to his window and took up -his vigil, his arms resting on the sill. Fifteen or -twenty minutes later the light vanished in Crawford’s -room. In order to make sure, the detective hurriedly -rose, slipped to his own door, and opened it slightly. -His friend did not appear in the corridor, which was -sufficient proof that he was going to bed.</p> - -<p>Nick reclosed his door and locked it. “You are -settled for the night,” he thought; “and now for -Stone.”</p> - -<p>He was possessed of the infinite patience that means -so much to a detective, and is so essential to the success -of any one who takes up that profession. The -rumble of traffic gradually died down, and light after -light went out in the hotel. At last, in the distance -the clock in the Metropolitan tower struck twelve. -Yet the bunch light still glowed in the courtyard below, -and many windows were rectangles of light, -bright or subdued, as the case might be, for New -York is very slow to go to bed.</p> - -<p>The detective’s lower sash was raised about six -or eight inches, and that fact at length enabled him -to hear a slight sound in the courtyard, even before -his watchful eyes had warned him of the approach.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -He did not make the mistake of leaning out of the -window. Indeed, it would not have been easy to -do so, in view of the narrow space he had left.</p> - -<p>In any case, it was unnecessary. The painter’s -ladder was well within his range of vision, and a few -moments later he had the satisfaction of seeing two -figures steal into view and grasp it. They had come -from the open end of the courtyard, which was on -Nick’s side, and out of his sight.</p> - -<p>They picked up the ladder and started to sidle across -the court in the direction of the fire escape. There -was more than a hint of sinister purpose in their furtive -movements, and an instant later first one and then -the other raised his head and scanned the tiers of windows -above, as if to make sure that they were not -observed.</p> - -<p>As they did so, the lights of the cluster fell on -their faces for a fleeting instant, and the muscles of -Nick’s jaws tightened. He had barely glanced at the -taller figure. It was the shorter, slightly stooped one -which interested him most, and he had seen all that -was necessary.</p> - -<p>The second man wore the repellent mask of Stephen -Follansbee.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XIX">CHAPTER XIX. -<br /> -<small>A FIENDISH PLOT.</small></h2> - - -<p>The two skulkers soon disappeared, having drawn -too close to the nearer wall for Nick Carter to see -them. He put his ear close to the opening, however, -and listened.</p> - -<p>He was enabled to hear the ladder placed against -the fire escape, faint though the sound was, and to -check off the men’s movements as they climbed upward. -When they approached the second floor, he -quietly slipped out of his chair and retreated into the -shadows in the middle of the room. He did not -care to be seen at the window, even though his identity -was so well cloaked.</p> - -<p>Apparently no word was exchanged on the part of -the two climbers. They were running a considerable -risk, and they doubtless knew it. There was quite -enough light for them to be seen if any one should -look out of one of the many windows which opened -on the court. Fortunately for them, however, they -did not have far to go, and were not obliged to pass -a single bedroom.</p> - -<p>They made their way upward with a great deal -of care, but Nick could plainly hear the faint scrape -of their shoes on the metal steps.</p> - -<p>It was obvious that they had already settled all the -details.</p> - -<p>“They have everything cut and dried,” the detective<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> -told himself, his keen eyes glinting in the shadows, -“and men of their type do not go to such deliberate -pains for nothing.”</p> - -<p>After that the sounds told the detective that the -first man, probably Stone himself, had reached the -landing just to the right of his window, and almost -immediately afterward he caught the faint noise made -as the sash was raised.</p> - -<p>There was a little more rustling and scraping, then -silence. The detective concluded that it was safe -enough to return to his point of vantage outside. -Just as he did so, he saw the lower sash of Stone’s -window being pulled down.</p> - -<p>“I hope they leave that wedge in place,” he murmured.</p> - -<p>The light flashed up, and the shade was drawn -down—by Doctor Follansbee, as the shadow showed.</p> - -<p>There was no way of telling, however, whether the -wedge had been removed or not. Follansbee had -doubtless been the last to pass through, and probably -did not know of its existence; and then it might have -been dislodged by the passage of one or the other of -them.</p> - -<p>It was time for the watcher to become the man of -action, and the transformation entailed considerable -risk, as the detective knew. He did not mean to remain -in idleness where he was; but, on the contrary, -had determined to repeat his maneuver of some time -before. In other words, he meant to crawl out on the -fire escape once more and take a position outside of -the miner’s window, in the hope that he could hear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -enough of the conversation between the two to enable -him to get a clew to their intentions, if not with -regard to Winthrop Crawford.</p> - -<p>The sounds they had made with all their care had -brought his danger home to him, and he realized that -the necessity for climbing over the iron railing made -it likely that he would cause even more noise. The -attempt must be made, though, come what might, and -Nick had already made preparations for it. He had -anticipated the necessity, and had previously transferred -a little instrument from one of his suit cases -to his pocket.</p> - -<p>It was a sort of disc made of hard rubber for the -most part, and about an inch in thickness. Its use -was obscure at first glance, but would have been sufficiently -plain upon examination. It was a sort of -ear trumpet designed for the deaf, but without the -old-fashioned horn attachment.</p> - -<p>He buttoned his coat once more about him, then -proceeded to raise his window the required distance; -but at the risk of missing something important, he -took his time about it, with the result that the slight -sound could not have been heard even a few feet -away. When there was room enough for him to -crawl through, he did so, and, leaning over, grasped -the end of the platform. He stepped noiselessly -across the gap, threw one leg over the railing and -gently lowered himself to the grating. Along this -he tiptoed, his thin-soled shoes making practically no -sound as he advanced. In a few moments he was -kneeling in front of Stone’s window with the rubber<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -disc held to his right ear, and his ear lowered to the -crack at the bottom of the sash.</p> - -<p>The wooden wedge was still in place, luckily for -him, consequently the sash had remained slightly -raised. As soon as the device was brought into use, -it amplified the sounds it caught, and what had been -an indistinct murmur of voices became an easily -audible conversation.</p> - -<p>“Be very careful of this,” were the first definite -words he heard. They were in Doctor Follansbee’s -voice. “I will leave it in the case here for you,” the -high, thin tones went on. “Don’t press the plunger -until you have inserted the needle underneath the skin. -Is that clear?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>The detective hardly recognized Stone’s voice, so -hoarse and agitated did it sound.</p> - -<p>“The drug and sponge will be easy for you to -handle,” Follansbee explained. “Wait until you get -into the room and are six feet or so from the bed, -then just sprinkle a few drops on the sponge from -this vial.”</p> - -<p>“Won’t he smell the stuff and wake up?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly not, unless you make a noise. The drug -has a penetrating odor, of course, for the time being, -but his sleeping sense won’t convey a message of warning -soon enough to spoil your plans. If the odor -reaches his nostrils before you’re ready to act, and -he’s really asleep, it will probably only cause a momentary -dream of some sort; an attempt of the subconscious -self to explain the situation.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> - -<p>“All right, but—but won’t they be able to tell that -he’s been drugged?”</p> - -<p>Nick heard a thin, piping laugh. “You must think -me a fool,” Follansbee’s voice returned. “The keenest -scent would be incapable of detecting any odor in -the room five minutes after that drug is used, and it -leaves little or no after effects. Crawford will wake -up to-morrow morning without the slightest suspicion -that anything has happened to him, and he’ll feel perfectly -normal.”</p> - -<p>“And what about the—the other?”</p> - -<p>“It will not begin to show itself until Monday or -Tuesday,” was the confident answer. “And even then -the symptoms will be inconclusive. There aren’t half -a dozen physicians who would know what they meant -in any of the early stages, and by the time any one -could authoritatively diagnose the case, the patient -would be beyond help. In fact, he’ll be beyond it for -all ordinary purposes from the time the serum is introduced -into his system, and before the twenty-seventh -he’ll be dead.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XX">CHAPTER XX. -<br /> -<small>QUICK WORK IS NECESSARY.</small></h2> - - -<p>“Dead!”</p> - -<p>The way in which Stone repeated the word gave a -hint to the listener of the grim hatred that possessed -that demented brain.</p> - -<p>There was a moment’s silence, then Follansbee’s -voice came again. “Above all, however,” he said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -“remember that you must not be in a hurry. Do -everything deliberately and don’t get rattled for a -moment. There’s nothing to fear if you keep your -nerve. Finally, don’t attempt to carry out your—operations -shall we call it?—until half past two.”</p> - -<p>“Why should we wait? Why couldn’t we do it -now?” Stone urged.</p> - -<p>“If you were a medical man you would know why,” -Follansbee answered in his squeaking voice. “Between -two and three o’clock in the morning human -life is at its lowest ebb. The flame of vitality burns -more dimly then than at any time during the twenty-four -hours. That’s the answer, and its application -to this case ought to be apparent enough.”</p> - -<p>Nick heard a movement, as though Doctor Follansbee -had leaned forward in his chair to drive his point -home.</p> - -<p>“You have waited months for this, Stone,” the peculiar -voice went on, “and an hour more or less can’t -make any difference. Crawford will be in a sound -sleep at half past two, if he’s as normal as he seems -to be, and the low vitality which is natural at that -hour will make him an easy subject to handle; in -other words, you will have the best chance of successfully -drugging him.”</p> - -<p>The chair creaked again.</p> - -<p>“You’re going now?” asked the miner.</p> - -<p>“Yes. It’s much better that I should. My continued -presence would tempt us to talk, and we might -disturb the man in the next room. You don’t want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -to do that, you know. You want to find him as helpless -as possible when the time comes, so I’d advise -you to keep as still as you can. Don’t pace the room, -or anything like that.”</p> - -<p>“But I’m nervous as a cat,” objected Stone. “Who -wouldn’t be?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose you are,” Follansbee admitted, “but—here’s -something to quiet you. It will give you new -courage, too. Just deposit this powder on the end -of your tongue and wash it down with a little water.”</p> - -<p>There was a pause, and the detective suspected that -the miner was staring questionably at Follansbee. -Stone’s next words confirmed it.</p> - -<p>“You’re sure about this?” the man asked slowly. -“It won’t hurt me or keep me from doing what I’ve -sworn to do?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly not,” was the shrill response. “What -do you take me for, Stone? I’m in your pay, am I -not? I must earn that forty-five thousand, if I expect -to enjoy it. Why should I try any tricks on -you?”</p> - -<p>“That’s all right—why should you?” Stone said -more quietly. “I’ll take it if it will fix me up in the -way you say. Here goes!”</p> - -<p>The detective outside held his breath. “Great -Scott!” he thought. “I wonder if Follansbee is putting -up a job on him, too. He’d be quite capable of -it, but it doesn’t seem possible that he’s trying any -such tricks so early in the game. If he means to do -anything of that sort, I should think he would wait<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -until Stone had killed his partner, or had attempted -to do so. To Follansbee’s certain knowledge, that -would give the latter a hold on Stone which Follansbee -could use to advantage before going any further. -I may be mistaken about that, of course. Follansbee -does strange things, and may have something up -his sleeve which I don’t understand. There’s a -chance that Stone is in grave danger at this moment. -I doubt it, though, and I’m afraid I can’t help him -if he is.”</p> - -<p>Nick’s main concern was to protect Winthrop Crawford -if possible. He pitied Stone much more than -he blamed him, because he knew that the man was -not responsible for his actions, but Crawford’s life -was more important than Stone’s, and a premature -interference might spoil the case that was developing -against Doctor Follansbee.</p> - -<p>“That will steady you,” he heard the specialist inform -Stone. “I’m off now, and remember that I -shall be waiting for you in front of the bank around -the corner. I’ll have a car there in readiness at two-thirty. -I trust you told the hotel people that you -would probably be away to-night?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I arranged that. I didn’t see why it was -necessary, but——”</p> - -<p>Had the detective been able to look into the room, -he would have found that Follansbee was facing his -man, but that Stone was not quick enough to notice -the cold flicker that came into the hard eyes. The -detective would have perceived it, though, had he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -been in a position to do so, and would have jumped -to the conclusion that the rascally physician had a reason -of his own for wanting Stone to join him as -soon as the dastardly crime had been committed.</p> - -<p>“My reason is very obvious,” Follansbee declared -in his thin, cackling voice. “I want you to establish -an alibi in case something unexpected should happen.”</p> - -<p>He thrust his face forward.</p> - -<p>“You don’t want to be electrocuted, do you?” he -demanded. “That would be a poor sort of revenge -on your partner.”</p> - -<p>Nick heard the ex-miner draw a deep breath.</p> - -<p>“Electrocuted!” came the deep, husky voice. “I -don’t think I’d care for that. They—they would send -me to the chair, though, wouldn’t they, if they found -out?”</p> - -<p>Follansbee knew better than that. He was aware -that Stone would escape any such fate owing to his -mental condition, but it did not suit his purposes -to say so. “As sure as you’re alive!” he answered -callously.</p> - -<p>As he spoke, he turned to the window and started -for it.</p> - -<p>It was not the sound of his approaching footsteps -that warned the listener, however. Nick had already -stiffened and drawn back as soon as his ears caught -the difference in Follansbee’s tones, caused by the -fact that the latter had faced about toward the window -while in the act of making his last remark.</p> - -<p>The thin, stunted shadow of the head physician of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -St. Swithin’s was already on the shade, and quick -work was necessary on Nick’s part.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXI">CHAPTER XXI. -<br /> -<small>IN NEED OF EVIDENCE.</small></h2> - - -<p>Nick Carter moved with the quickness of a cat. -In a twinkling he had jerked the ear piece away and -slipped it into his pocket. While doing so, he had -straightened up noiselessly and started along the platform -of the fire escape in the direction of his own -window.</p> - -<p>It was a close shave. Follansbee had started to -raise the shade before Nick even reached the railing -over which he had to climb, and while he was crawling -over the barrier the sash of Stone’s window was being -lifted.</p> - -<p>Fortunately for him, however, Follansbee tried to -make as little noise as possible, consequently his movements -were slower than they otherwise would have -been. For all that, though, the detective was not out -of sight by the time Follansbee stuck his head and -shoulders through the opening.</p> - -<p>It was a tense moment, and Nick’s heart skipped a -beat or two. Should Follansbee happen to glance -that way the first thing and catch a glimpse of his -feet disappearing through the window the consequences -would be disastrous.</p> - -<p>Despite the temptation to do so, he did not forget -his caution for a moment, or allow his extreme haste<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -to betray him into a clumsy move. He slipped from -view almost noiselessly, and tiptoed away from his -window into the shadows of his room.</p> - -<p>All the time he was listening intently for some evidence -that Follansbee had seen him, but none came. -Seemingly the physician continued to climb through -Stone’s window, and, having done so, proceeded on -his stealthy way down the fire escape.</p> - -<p>The detective heard a slight sound, followed by the -grating of the sash. Evidently the ex-miner had -again closed the window.</p> - -<p>As soon as Nick dared, he ventured back and stealthily -peered over his own sill. Follansbee was then -descending the painter’s ladder. And when the bottom -was reached, he lifted the ladder carefully away -from the lower platform of the fire escape and carried -it, with considerable difficulty, back to the place -from which it had been taken.</p> - -<p>Subsequently his figure vanished, going in the direction -of the open end of the court.</p> - -<p>“The end of the first act,” thought Nick, “and the -play promises to be a hair-raiser.”</p> - -<p>With his brows drawn together and his arms folded -across his breast, he paced softly up and down his -room, turning his discoveries over and over in his mind. -He had heard enough to realize that Crawford was -in deadly peril. With his usual cunning, Stephen -Follansbee had again taken what promised to be a -perfectly, safe course. To the specialist’s crooked -brain, there could be no possible chance of fixing the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -contemplated crime on him, if it was Stone, the tool, -who was playing the principal part.</p> - -<p>To be sure, Nick had overheard a conversation -which left him in no doubt as to where the real responsibility -lay. He had heard Follansbee say that -as a result of the proposed measures, Crawford would -be dead before the twenty-seventh. To the uninitiated, -that would have seemed conclusive, and more -than enough to convict the physician. Nick Carter -knew better, however; at any rate, he knew enough -to be sure that Follansbee would make a great fight -if the case ever came to trial, and might easily wriggle -out of it.</p> - -<p>In the first place, he was a distinguished man, a leading -light in his profession, and the ruling spirit of a -great hospital. Nick was the only witness, and it -would be very hard, if not impossible, for the detective, -with all his reputation, to convince a jury on the -strength of such evidence alone that Doctor Stephen -Follansbee would stoop to become the accessory to a -murder.</p> - -<p>Follansbee would have the advantage of dealing -with a demented man, and could insist that everything -which seemed suspicious about his actions—the use -of the fire escape and all—had been due to that fact. -In other words, he might build up a plausible excuse -on the theory that he had been humoring Stone in -order to study his case, and to see how far the miner’s -insanity would carry him.</p> - -<p>“It must be the germ of some deadly disease, characteristic -of the tropics,” Nick told himself, “and he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -has left the hypodermic syringe there for Stone to -use. That’s as plain as the nose on my face. But -without more evidence than I now have, I can’t be -sure of securing a conviction. Follansbee is as -shrewd as they make them. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised -to have him claim that the contents of the -syringe were harmless, and that he was merely ‘stringing’ -Stone for some medical reason. What he said -about Crawford’s death could always be attributed to -the same motive, and his reputation is so great that -it would probably hypnotize a jury into accepting his -word for it. He’s a cunning rascal, and no mistake. -How am I going to manage this affair? I’ve got to -do something before two-thirty, but what?”</p> - -<p>It was seldom that Nick Carter felt at a loss, yet -he realized that his position was a peculiarly difficult -one. He might have forced his way into James Stone’s -room, of course, but he felt that the mine owner -would have sufficient cunning to destroy at once the -only tangible evidence of guilt as soon as he heard -the first alarm. And even if he did foil Stone’s attempt -that night, the detective feared that it would -only be putting off the evil day. He could have Stone -locked up, to be sure, and an inquiry into his sanity -begun. He might also be able to secure Follansbee’s -arrest.</p> - -<p>That would seem to clear the way and remove -Crawford’s danger; but the detective saw further than -that. He felt certain that Follansbee must have demanded -a large fee of Stone, either for treatment or -frankly for the services of getting rid of the man’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -partner. Furthermore, he was assured that Follansbee -had contrived it so that the fee would be paid -whatever happened.</p> - -<p>In that case the arrest or death would by no means -end the matter. Follansbee’s professional standing -would undoubtedly result in an arrangement whereby -the specialist would go free under heavy bonds pending -his trial, and the moment he was at liberty to -do so, he would almost certainly begin work on a new -attempt to get rid of Winthrop Crawford and to -earn his money.</p> - -<p>That fact had to be taken into consideration in -connection with Follansbee, for the latter would not -be treated as an ordinary criminal; therefore, it became -increasingly evident that Nick would have to -meet cunning with cunning if he hoped to handle -the affair successfully.</p> - -<p>At last, the hint of a plan came to him. He halted -by his window and looked out again. The light was -still shining in Stone’s room. “I must go in there -without the fellow’s knowledge,” he thought. “A -minute, possibly half a minute, would do, with good -luck. I wonder how I can manage it, though?”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXII">CHAPTER XXII. -<br /> -<small>HELP FROM THE HOUSE DETECTIVE.</small></h2> - - -<p>Nick looked at his watch. It was ten minutes of -one.</p> - -<p>More than an hour and a half remained before half -past two. There seemed to be plenty of time, therefore;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -but he could not be sure that Stone would take -Follansbee’s advice and wait until that hour before -attacking his partner. The man’s insane impatience -might get the upper hand and lead him to act before -the time set. But the plan which had come to Nick -could be put into execution at once, and thus a nerve-racking -delay could be avoided.</p> - -<p>The detective might have acted wholly on his own -responsibility, but many difficulties would have been -involved in that case, and he decided against it. He -turned on the lights in his room and looked up at -the wall in the neighborhood of the door. As he -had anticipated, his eyes fell upon an electric bell, -which had doubtless been placed there in order to -arouse guests who might have left instructions for -an early call. If there was one in his room, there -was doubtless one in each of the others—including -James Stone’s. Having made up his mind as to that, -the detective switched off the light again, softly unlocked -and opened his door, and slipped out into the -corridor.</p> - -<p>The Hotel Windermere was a modern one, with -all the latest safeguards, including floor clerks; in -other words, there was a clerk on each floor night -and day. These clerks had desks in the main corridors, -with mirrors about them so arranged that they -could see what went on in all of the side passages. -Calls from their floor were handled by them, and it -was their business to see that everything was orderly -and respectable, to scrutinize visitors, to note the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -comings and going of guests, and to keep a watch for -delinquencies on the part of employees.</p> - -<p>Nick approached the clerk on his floor, a young -woman of thirty-three or four.</p> - -<p>“Will you kindly tell me where I can find the house -detective at this hour?” he asked.</p> - -<p>The clerk looked him over in some surprise. “Has -anything happened?” she asked quickly. “Have you -lost anything?”</p> - -<p>Nick smiled slightly. “Oh, no,” he answered. -“It’s nothing of that sort. I simply have business -with your detective.” As he spoke, he took out a -two-dollar bill and laid it on the young woman’s desk. -“And I must ask that you look upon my interest in -him as strictly confidential,” he added.</p> - -<p>The clerk frowned slightly as she saw the money, -then gave the detective a searching look. “I can’t -accept that, Mr. Mortimer,” she said, giving him the -name he was using at the hotel. “We clerks are not -allowed to accept tips. It wouldn’t do, you know. -Thank you just as much, though. You may be sure -I won’t say anything about it. You’ll find Mr. Stickney, -the detective, in room twelve hundred and -twelve.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” Nick replied. “And accept my apologies, -please. I didn’t think for a moment of the -policy here. I don’t want to go up to the detective’s -room, though, for that would arouse the curiosity of -the elevator boy. Will you kindly telephone and ask -him to meet me here as soon as he can?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly,” was the reply.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> - -<p>Ten minutes later, the house detective, having -dressed hastily, put in an appearance. Nick greeted -him and drew him aside. He knew Stickney, but had -not seen fit to reveal that fact to the floor clerk.</p> - -<p>“Look here, Stickney,” he said, as soon as they -were out of earshot, “I suppose you wonder what -you’re up against. I’m registered here under the -name of Thomas Mortimer, but you know me better -as Nick Carter.”</p> - -<p>Stickney gave a low whistle. “For the love of -Mike!” he ejaculated under his breath. “Let me -have a good look at you. Yes, I guess you’re Nick -all right, although I wouldn’t have dreamed of it if -I’d passed you a dozen times. What’s the matter? -Is there anything queer going on here?”</p> - -<p>Nick nodded. “Very queer,” he answered. “This -isn’t the proper time to go into particulars, but I’ll -tell you this much. The man in number twenty-two -has a room or two to rent in his upper story, and if -you’re not careful he’s going to commit a terrible -crime this very night. There are reasons for keeping -dark, and for not taking him into custody just -yet. Will you help me, though, to save him from -himself, and to shield his intended victim?”</p> - -<p>“Sure thing!” was the prompt answer. “I’ll do -anything I can. I’d like to know a little more about -it, and I’d insist if you were any one else. I can trust -you, though, and I’ll keep mum until you give me the -word. What is it you want?”</p> - -<p>“Something very simple.”</p> - -<p>Nick drew nearer to the house detective and spoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -even lower. “Do you get the idea?” he asked, in -conclusion.</p> - -<p>Stickney nodded. “Of course,” he answered. “I -can fix that up without any trouble. Is that all you -want me to do?”</p> - -<p>“That’s all,” Nick replied. “Wait for ten minutes -after I get back to my room, and then let it go. I’ll -be ready to take advantage of the opportunity. Keep -out of sight yourself, and tip off our young friend -at the desk, so that she’ll know what to do when -Stone complains. Tell her to keep the whole affair -quiet. I’ll let you know in due time how I’ve succeeded; -and if I need any more help later on I’ll surely -call upon you.”</p> - -<p>“I get you,” declared the house detective, and -turned briskly away.</p> - -<p>Nick Carter quietly returned to his own room, -locked himself in, and went to his window. Stone’s -light was still burning, but Crawford’s window was -as dark as before. To all appearances, Stone was -biding his time as Follansbee had advised.</p> - -<p>The detective consulted his watch once more, made -a few preparations, and then, stationing himself finally -at his open, unlighted window, awaited the prearranged -signal. At the end of ten minutes a startling -din came to his ears from near at hand, and he prepared -for action.</p> - -<p>The time had come.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII. -<br /> -<small>THE HYPODERMIC.</small></h2> - - -<p>The detective’s scheme was simplicity itself, and -it promised success. He had merely instructed Stickney -to have Stone’s bell rung at the appointed time, and -to keep it ringing continuously until the miner should -leave his room in desperation to complain of the nuisance.</p> - -<p>If it worked out as Nick hoped, Stone’s absence -would give him the opportunity he sought, and meanwhile -the miner would be informed that the electrical -apparatus must have been deranged in some way. It -would be looked to and “remedied;” whereupon, the -ringing would cease, and Stone would receive the -apologies of the management.</p> - -<p>Nick assumed, however, that the miner would first -telephone downstairs. The din would make it difficult -for him to be understood, though; and even if he -were, he would doubtless grow impatient at the delay -and soon leave his room to complain in person -to the clerk.</p> - -<p>The fact that he was already dressed would make -that easy, and Nick counted on his doing so sooner -or later. At any rate, he had arranged with Stickney -that the bell should continue its exasperating dinning -if possible until Stone had been routed out.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, there was a possibility, of course, -that the man would not act in accordance with expectations.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -He might remain at the telephone, or -even demolish the bell in his anger, especially as he -would doubtless be afraid that it would arouse Crawford, -and that the latter might not fall asleep again -for some time. Nick had to run that risk, though; -and now he was impatiently awaiting some sign that -his ruse was working as he wished.</p> - -<p>The muffled ringing of the bell prevented him from -telling whether Stone was telephoning or not, but he -had no doubt that such was the case. Would the -man stop at that, though?</p> - -<p>Evidently not; for two or three minutes after the -bell began to ring he caught the sound of an opening -door, despite the racket, and almost immediately afterward -hurried footsteps passed his room.</p> - -<p>He waited for nothing more, but crawled through -his window near to the neighboring platform of the -fire escape and laid hands on Stone’s sash. It came -up easily, and revealed an empty room, and the door -ajar. It was a risky undertaking, and one that was -full of uncertainties. The irate miner might return -at any moment. Crawford might come in from the -adjoining room and denounce him as a suspicious -character, or some one else might put in an appearance -to investigate the noise which must have been -disturbing many by that time. Worst of all, Stone -had left the door partly open and the light on, so -that Nick had to work in the open, with a possibility -of being seen and interrupted at any moment.</p> - -<p>None of these things seemed to worry him, though. -He slipped cautiously into the room and looked about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -him with keen eyes. A faint ejaculation of satisfaction -escaped his lips as he caught sight of what -he was looking for.</p> - -<p>There was a small writing desk close to the head -of the bed. It was open, and on the extended leaf -lay a small, flat, leather case. Leaping forward, Nick -opened the case and took out a small hypodermic -syringe. The plunger had been drawn back to its -fullest extent, and the detective’s lips tightened as he -realized that in that little cylinder lurked sure death.</p> - -<p>He paid no attention to the other articles in the -case—the tiny bottle with some colorless drug, the -bit of sponge, and so on. He cared nothing for them, -and was interested only in the deadly hypodermic.</p> - -<p>Looking about him again, and listening all the -while, he took out his fountain pen, removed the cap, -and unscrewed the pen itself; then he squirted the -contents of the syringe into the barrel of the pen, -which he had taken the precaution to empty before -leaving his room, and replaced the pen and cap.</p> - -<p>Having finished that manipulation, he carelessly -thrust the pen back into his pocket and went with -long, silent strides to a stationary washstand in a little -alcove. He turned on the faucets, directed a little -stream of warm water into the syringe, and operated -the plunger several times, in order to clean the cylinder -as well as he could; after which he filled the -syringe with water, and, leaving the plunger out as -he had found it, returned the instrument to the case. -The case closed, he made for the window.</p> - -<p>So swift had been his movements that he had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -in the room hardly more than a minute, and nothing -had occurred to disturb him. The bell had continued -its deafening ringing, and he had thought he heard -Crawford’s bed creak, but Stone’s partner had not -called out. He gave a sigh of relief as he reached -the balcony of the fire escape and plunged out into -the shadows at one side. In a few brief moments -he was over the railing and through his own window.</p> - -<p>He had hardly reached his room, however, before -he heard Stone’s familiar footsteps in the corridor -outside. The miner was returning, and muttering -angrily to himself as he did so. Presently the noise -ceased. The bell had been “fixed.” The detective -heard Stone pass again and yet again, probably to -tell the floor clerk that it was all right.</p> - -<p>Not until Stone’s door was finally closed and locked -did the detective drop into a chair. “Whew!” he -said, half aloud, “that was warm work, and not very -good for the nerves. I’ve saved Crawford for the -time being, but my work isn’t done by any means—even -for to-night.”</p> - -<p>He looked at his watch and found that it was -quarter past one. There was still an hour and a -quarter if Stone obeyed instructions, and Nick had -no doubt that he would now. In fact, he might even -wait longer, for he would be certain to fear that the -ringing of the bell had disturbed Crawford, and would -wish to give him plenty of time to fall into a deep -sleep again.</p> - -<p>Nick did not intend to remain idle, but he felt sure -that he had some time to kill, and he was glad of it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -Despite his iron nerve, he felt just a trifle shaken by -the exacting ordeal through which he had just gone; -therefore, he took out a cigar, lighted it, and leaned -back in a Morris chair. He must have dozed off -before long, for the next thing he knew he sat up -with a start. It was half past two.</p> - -<p>“Stone will probably be making a move now,” he -thought, on the alert at once. “I’m glad my mental -alarm clock woke me when it did.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV. -<br /> -<small>THE PLUNGER REACHES HOME.</small></h2> - - -<p>Once more Nick Carter eased himself out of his -window. It was getting to be a habit with him. His -long legs bridged the gap as before, but this time his -errand was, if possible, even more fraught with risk -than the previous ones had been.</p> - -<p>He lowered himself over the rail slowly and with -infinite care, and then, stooping, crept along the platform -to Stone’s window. By peering in through the -crack between the sill and the partly lowered sash, -he saw the tall miner in the act of picking up the little -leather case from the writing desk. Stone’s back was -turned to the detective, and the latter seized the opportunity -to slip noiselessly past the window.</p> - -<p>A few feet ahead of him loomed another window, -dark and open at top and bottom. Winthrop Crawford -was fond of fresh air. The lower sash was -raised about eighteen inches, which made it possible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -for Nick to flatten himself over the sill and crawl -through. It required daring under the circumstances, -but his performance that night would have established -a reputation for that sort of thing on the part of -any one.</p> - -<p>The room was in darkness, but the detective had -previously found opportunity to study the position of -the furniture. He was able, therefore, to avoid a -collision, and his stockinged feet trod softly on the -thick carpet. A private bathroom opened off from -the bedroom on the side opposite the connecting door -which led to Stone’s quarters. Nick darted into this -and began cautiously to close the door.</p> - -<p>“Let’s hope our friend Crawford is a sound -sleeper,” he thought; “and that this door isn’t inclined -to squeak. If he wakes up now and starts on a burglar -hunt, it will mess things up hopelessly.”</p> - -<p>Crawford’s heavy breathing went on uninterruptedly, -however, and the sound was reassuring. It -seemed to indicate, on the other hand, that Crawford -would fall an easy victim to his old partner’s attack; -but the detective had already pulled Stone’s fangs.</p> - -<p>He waited perhaps five minutes, standing behind -the bathroom door, which he had left slightly ajar. -At the end of that time the opposite door, that leading -from Stone’s room, quietly opened. As it did so, -it revealed the fact that Stone had put out his own -lights. Nick stiffened, for he knew that the crucial -moment was close at hand.</p> - -<p>He had taken the risk of entering Crawford’s room<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -and secreting himself there partly to witness whatever -might happen, and partly because he was by no -means sure of James Stone. One never can be certain -of what a madman may do. Stone had been -supplied with the instruments necessary for the commission -of a highly scientific crime, but when the time -came, he might discard them, owing to his unfamiliarity -with such things, and resort to some more commonplace -weapon. In fact, if he made a slip, or if -Crawford awoke prematurely and showed fight, it was -almost certain that Stone would try to make us of -some more familiar way of getting rid of enemies—or -supposed enemies. Consequently Nick wanted to -be on hand to give instant aid, if necessary. He did -not consider that his duty to Crawford had been discharged -when he had substituted water for the mysterious -and deadly charge which Doctor Follansbee -had originally placed in the hypodermic syringe.</p> - -<p>Stone came in noiselessly, and the subdued light from -the corridor which shone in through the transom accentuated -his lean, angular form as it entered. The -door was closed carefully behind him, and Nick could -hear his suppressed, nervous breathing as he crossed -toward the bed.</p> - -<p>The intruder paused there within a yard or so of -the outstretched form of Crawford, and Nick braced -himself in anticipation of a possible emergency. He -saw Stone looking toward the bed with his head thrust -slightly forward, as if he were listening to Crawford’s -breathing. Seemingly the man soon became -satisfied that all was well, for he took from his pocket<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -a couple of small objects which the detective guessed -to be the little vial and sponge.</p> - -<p>Stone’s movements indicated that he was emptying -the contents of the vial into the sponge. As he did -so, he took a quick step forward and bent over the -bed. Simultaneously there was a stir, and the springs -of the bed creaked.</p> - -<p>Nick peered out and saw the head and shoulders -of Crawford rising from the pillow. The bearded -face of the kindly mine owner peered for a moment -through the gloom at the vague form bending over -him, then a single word came to the detective’s ears:</p> - -<p>“Jimmy!”</p> - -<p>A savage cry sounded, and, with a last bound, the -demented partner had thrown himself upon Crawford. -Nick heard a choking gasp, and for a moment -was tempted to leap from his hiding place and hurl -himself upon the would-be murderer. It was only -with a supreme effort of will that he kept himself in -hand and mutely watched the struggle.</p> - -<p>Stone had all the strength of his madness behind -him, and with remorseless force he pressed Crawford -back upon the pillow. Then, with a quick swoop, he -pressed the sponge over the bearded lips and nostrils -of the man who loved him better than a brother. -There was a convulsive movement of the prone figure, -and a long-drawn sigh, then Crawford’s arms fell -back from their hold on Stone’s shoulders and he relapsed -into unconsciousness.</p> - -<p>Stone’s heavy breathing was very audible to the -detective as the latter stood watching the dramatic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -scene. He saw the miner take the little leather case -from his pocket and remove the hypodermic syringe. -After that, leaning over his unconscious partner, the -madman plunged the needle into Crawford’s forearm, -close to the elbow, and the plunger was pressed -home with one quick movement of the powerful -thumb.</p> - -<p>As soon as the deed was done, Stone gave an exultant -exclamation, and, still leaning over the bed, -shook his clenched fists at the motionless body.</p> - -<p>“It was either you or me, curse you!” he said, as -if growling, his face working savagely. “And I have -won. You’re as good as done for, and unless you -stop playing with me as a cat plays with a mouse, you -won’t have a chance to do what you want to do with -me. I’ve taken care of myself so far, and I guess -I can keep on doing it until you’re too sick to try -any tricks on me. Follansbee says you’ll be dead -before the twenty-seventh, and he ought to know. -Anyway, he won’t get his money if you’re not.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXV">CHAPTER XXV. -<br /> -<small>THE MADMAN’S GET-AWAY.</small></h2> - - -<p>The words were spoken aloud in a thick, jerky -voice, and it seemed to be all that Stone could do to -keep his clutching hands from his senseless partner’s -throat. Doubtless he remembered the rascally doctor’s -promise that Crawford would know nothing -about it all when he woke in the morning, and that -was probably what stayed his hand.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> - -<p>Had the detective been in any doubt of the man’s -condition, it would have vanished then, and Stone’s -irresponsibility was even more evident when he turned -away from the bed, and the light from the transom -struck his face. It was wrinkled into a mask of -maniacal triumph, and the glare in the eyes was more -like that of a wild animal than of a human being.</p> - -<p>Nick held his breath for a moment. Stone was -heading directly toward the bathroom, apparently with -the idea of washing his hands after handling the -drugged sponge. If he should enter there, discovery -would be inevitable, and the detective would have a -crazy man to handle—a task which even he did not -care to contemplate.</p> - -<p>Presently, however, when Stone was only four or -five feet from the door of the bathroom, he suddenly -wheeled about and recrossed to his own door, -through which he disappeared. His shrewdness had -evidently suggested the desirability of performing the -necessary ablutions in his own room.</p> - -<p>Nick relaxed when the danger was removed, and -after waiting for perhaps five minutes following the -closing of the connecting door, he stole from his hiding -place and sought Crawford’s bed. No odor of -the drug had reached his nostrils in the bathroom. -It was evidently so volatile that it had been quickly -dissipated in the air. The detective knew its nature, -however, for he had sniffed at it in Stone’s room. -He was aware that it was all that Doctor Follansbee -had claimed for it, and that, under ordinary circumstances, -it would work no permanent harm; but what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -he did not know was its effect on Winthrop Crawford. -Crawford seemed to possess a rugged constitution, -but his heart, for instance, might be weak. Nick -wished to make sure that his new friend’s condition -was normal before he left the room.</p> - -<p>His examination, for which he did not need a light, -was satisfactory. The drug had plunged Crawford -into a profound sleep, but there was nothing to indicate -that the effects would not pass away in good -time, leaving him in his usual health. As for the -injection, that meant nothing, so long as the serum -which Follansbee had provided was now reposing in -Nick’s fountain pen. To be sure, the hasty cleaning -of the syringe might not have removed all traces of -the serum, but the detective had done his best, and -knew enough of such things to feel sure that the consequences, -if any, would not be serious. Crawford -might possibly have a slight touch of the disease, -whatever it was, but it was not likely to amount to -much.</p> - -<p>The detective straightened up a little, listened, then -produced his pocket flash light and turned the rays -on Crawford. It was an easy matter to find where -the puncture had been made, for a tiny globule of -blood stood out on the tanned skin of the man’s arm. -Nick stooped lower and took a bit of the flesh between -thumb and finger. He succeeded in squeezing -out a few drops of water and blood, which he -carefully wiped away.</p> - -<p>“You’re safe enough, my friend,” he thought. -“Anyhow, I’ve done my best for you, and to-morrow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -will decide whether you’re still foolish enough to refuse -to guard yourself against the attacks of that -madman, or whether you’re willing to listen to reason -and let me put him where he belongs.”</p> - -<p>Having done all he could for the time being, he -straightened up and stood in thought for perhaps half -a minute, uncertain of his next move. He had heard -enough of the conversation between Stone and Follansbee -to know that the latter had planned for the -miner to join him after the diabolical injection had -been made. That meant that Stone would soon venture -forth again, doubtless by way of the fire escape, -and there was no knowing what moment he might -appear at his window. Consequently it would be extra -hazardous for Nick to venture out on the platform -and try to pass Stone’s room.</p> - -<p>He decided to wait for a few minutes, and to return -to the bathroom to do so, for Stone might take it -into his head to come back into Crawford’s room for -some reason.</p> - -<p>In a short time he had the satisfaction of hearing -Stone’s window go up and then down again after the -man had passed through. His alert ears caught a -few slight sounds on the fire escape, which told him -that the miner had begun to descend. He had -planned to follow, if possible, owing to his realization -that Follansbee might be playing a double game, and -was quite capable of making away with Stone as well -as Crawford. He had brought along his shoes for -that purpose, having suspended them about his neck<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -by means of the laces, and during the last few minutes -he had put them on in the bathroom.</p> - -<p>It occurred to him now, though, that the difficulties -were even greater than he had looked for. It would -not do for the floor clerk to see him emerging from -Crawford’s room, for she would naturally become -suspicious at once, and, not knowing his identity, -would cause a delay before an explanation could be -made. On the other hand, he could not follow down -the fire escape until Stone had disappeared from the -courtyard, and by the time he could reach the near-by -bank, where Follansbee was to be waiting, the car -would doubtless have carried the two conspirators -off.</p> - -<p>Moreover, he had known all the time that there was -small chance of following the machine at that hour. -He certainly could not do so on foot, and even if he -had arranged for another car to be in waiting in the -neighborhood, there would be considerable delay in -reaching it. On the whole, therefore, he reluctantly -decided to return to his own room, and call it a night’s -work. It was not that he trusted Follansbee any -more, but merely that he thought a few hours’ delay -would not entail serious consequences to James Stone.</p> - -<p>He did not dream, however, of what was in store -for the ex-miner.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI. -<br /> -<small>THE AWAKENING OF REMORSE.</small></h2> - - -<p>“Have you done the trick?”</p> - -<p>Stone dropped back on the soft cushions of the -car and passed his hands across his eyes. It had -been a hasty and disordered flight that had followed -his act, and had carried him down the fire escape. -On reaching the lower platform, he had crawled -through the ladder opening and let himself down and -dropped to the pavement of the court. Then he had -sped across the courtyard and out into the side street. -There he had moderated his pace for fear of attracting -attention, if a passing policeman should see him. -He had still hurried along, however, blindly and fearfully, -until he saw the waiting machine.</p> - -<p>Follansbee’s head had been thrust out of the closed -car for a moment as Stone approached, then the door -had been opened, and the miner had jumped in.</p> - -<p>“Where is the syringe?” Follansbee asked.</p> - -<p>Stone mechanically thrust his hand into his pocket -and withdrew the leather case. There was a look -of satisfaction in the physician’s eyes as he took charge -of his property again.</p> - -<p>“I was worried for fear you might have left that -behind,” he said, in his thin voice. “The most careful -of us make slips now and then.”</p> - -<p>“I made no slip,” came the answer, in a strange<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> -voice. “If that thing was charged with death as you -told me, then Winthrop Crawford is doomed.”</p> - -<p>“You need have no fear of the potency of my preparation,” -Follansbee assured him. “From to-night -you may look upon yourself as virtually a millionaire.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t care so much about that,” the miner began. -“It was——”</p> - -<p>His tall, raw-boned form stiffened suddenly, and -he drew in a deep, noisy breath—just such a breath -as a man might take when awakened from a long -sleep. He turned swiftly upon the astonished Follansbee, -and the latter involuntarily shrank away. -He feared that Stone might do him some harm, and -knew that he was far from a physical match for the -hard-muscled miner.</p> - -<p>Nothing was further from Stone’s thoughts, though. -His unexpected move had another meaning. “What -was it that made me want to kill my best friend?” he -demanded, in tragic bewilderment.</p> - -<p>Quick as a flash the truth burst on Doctor Follansbee. -The strain and intense excitement under which -Stone had labored must have wrought a startling but -by no means unprecedented change in his mental condition. -He was indeed a sleeper awakened. It had -probably been some subtle excitement that had unhinged -his brain in the first place, and now, thanks to -the law of balance, a more powerful excitement had -come near to bringing him back to his senses.</p> - -<p>“What was it? What was it?” the poor fellow -gasped, leaning forward and peering at Follansbee -through the half gloom of the limousine. “Why did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -I want to kill Win? By heavens, man, speak—speak! -There must have been a reason!”</p> - -<p>The strained voice rose almost to a shriek, and -Follansbee began to fear that his companion might -attract attention and call down a demand to stop the -car for an investigation. Although it was past three -o’clock in the morning, the streets were not quite -empty, for New York’s streets rarely are. They -flashed past a brightly lighted corner, and the doctor -saw the uniformed figure of a policeman pacing slowly -along and looking in their direction. At any moment -Stone might burst out into a storm of self-reproach, -and there was no telling to what lengths his remorse -might carry him. It was a situation which required -a master hand, and the way in which Follansbee -tackled it was typical of his shrewdness and lack of -conscience.</p> - -<p>Instead of attempting to explain to Stone, he leaned -forward suddenly and gave the miner a hearty clap -on the shoulder.</p> - -<p>“At last!” he ejaculated, in tones of the greatest -relief and satisfaction. “Thank Heaven you’ve come -back to your senses.”</p> - -<p>He was playing a deep game now, and the way in -which the haggard eyes of his companion turned upon -him might have touched his heart had anything been -there to touch.</p> - -<p>“Come back to my senses!” Stone repeated uncomprehendingly. -“What do you mean by that?”</p> - -<p>Then a great hope flamed up in his eyes. Had -Follansbee been merely humoring him, seeming to fall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -in with his madness? Had the hypodermic been -harmless after all?</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII. -<br /> -<small>AN ASTOUNDING STATEMENT.</small></h2> - - -<p>James Stone’s questions, both uttered and unexpressed, -were not to be answered just then. A sudden -swerve of the car made Follansbee look out of -the window. The machine had turned into Amsterdam -Avenue, and a few moments later had come to -a halt before the physician’s door.</p> - -<p>A ragged, shuffling figure, that of a hollow-cheeked -young man, was passing at the moment. The young -fellow, apparently a homeless vagrant, or worse, -paused as the car drew up to the curb, then darted -forward and opened the door.</p> - -<p>Doctor Follansbee muttered something under his -breath, seemingly derogatory to the volunteer, and -he and Stone crossed the pavement and vanished -through the doorway while the car went on up the -street.</p> - -<p>Apparently disgusted by his bad luck in not obtaining -a tip, the disreputable-looking young man crossed -the street and disappeared into the shadows of an -areaway, which primitive lodging place seemed to be -his choice for the night.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Follansbee had unlocked the door with -his latchkey, switched on the lights in the hall and -office, and motioned his companion to enter the latter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -The lights shone brightly on the former mine owner’s -face, and the doctor was almost startled by the change -in it. The hard, sour, brooding expression that had -so characterized the tanned features had vanished -now, and in its place was a very sane anxiety, coupled -with shocked recollection. James Stone was plainly -suffering in a way that few men are called upon to -suffer. “Now,” he said at once, refusing the proffered -chair, “tell me what you mean.”</p> - -<p>Even his voice had subtly changed. It was still -deep, but the hoarseness had gone from it, and it had -taken on a little of the mellowness of Crawford’s -own.</p> - -<p>Follansbee advanced to his desk and dropped into -a chair.</p> - -<p>“Won’t you sit down?” he repeated, with perfect -self-possession. “It’s a rather long story.”</p> - -<p>“No, no! I would rather stand,” Stone replied, -pressing his hand to his brow. “I feel dazed and -sick; I feel as though a great gap had come into my -life, and that I was only returning to the world again -after a long absence.”</p> - -<p>He stared down at Follansbee with anguished eyes.</p> - -<p>“Everything—or nearly everything—is misty,” he -went on, “but I know that I came to you on the recommendation -of young Doctor Floyd down in Brazil. -He sent me to you to get help for my trouble, but—but -somehow, instead of that, we hatched a devilish -plot to murder the best friend I have in the world, -Win Crawford. In Heaven’s name what’s to be -done? What did you mean just now when you said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -I had come to my senses? I have come to them, I -hope, but if it’s too late to help Win, I would -have been far better off as I was. If he dies now, -I shall kill myself. I could not bear to live knowing -that I had murdered him. You don’t know—nobody -knows—how much he has meant to me. Tell me, -man, what you meant? Is there—is there any hope?”</p> - -<p>His terrible anxiety was pathetic to see, but it -seemed to have no effect on Stephen Follansbee. The -latter looked on as if he were witnessing a play, and -as soon as Stone paused, his cold voice cut like a knife -through the silence.</p> - -<p>“For a considerable period, Mr. Stone—several -months, I understand—your mind has been seriously -affected in certain respects,” he said. “Perhaps I -should say that it has been affected in one particular -respect. A few days ago you came to me and seemed -to jump to the conclusion that I was the archfiend -himself, or something little better. If you had been -sane, I would have thrown you out of the house for -your insults. As it was, I listened to you and led -you on until you made an extraordinary proposal; -nothing less than that I should help you to put your -partner out of the way. Frankly I came very near -to using the telephone then and there, and having you -placed in custody.”</p> - -<p>“I wish now you had!” Stone burst out.</p> - -<p>He was laboring under the greatest excitement and -remorse, but he was obviously as sane as he had ever -been in his life.</p> - -<p>“I did not do so, however,” Follansbee went on,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -ignoring the interruption, “for I saw that your trouble -was monomania; serious enough in itself, but -leaving you sane in all other ways. I diagnosed it -also as a mere temporary derangement, and I did not -feel justified in submitting you to the ordeal of publicity, -or of committing you to an asylum.”</p> - -<p>“Go on! Be quick about it! What did you do? -For Heaven’s sake tell me the whole thing at once!”</p> - -<p>Follansbee slipped his hand into the inside breast -pocket of his coat and drew out a little leather case.</p> - -<p>“I simply played a professional trick on you, Mr. -Stone,” he declared quietly. “It’s true that the drug -in the vial was a powerful narcotic, and at this very -moment I have no doubt that your friend is still under -the influence of it.”</p> - -<p>As he spoke, he opened the case and took out the -syringe.</p> - -<p>“But this,” he went on, tapping the instrument, -“was charged with nothing more harmful than pure -glycerine.”</p> - -<p>“Is that true?” the miner demanded, striding forward -and towering above the diminutive specialist. -“If it is——”</p> - -<p>“I can easily convince you that it is,” Follansbee -assured him.</p> - -<p>He unfastened his cuff link and pulled up his cuff, -revealing a lean, yellow forearm.</p> - -<p>“Watch!” he said.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII. -<br /> -<small>“YOU’VE SAVED ME FROM MYSELF!”</small></h2> - - -<p>“You probably did not inject all of it,” Follansbee -continued, as he withdrew the plunger of the syringe.</p> - -<p>He thrust the needle beneath the skin of his arm -and pressed the plunger almost home; then, as he -withdrew the syringe, a tiny drop of clear liquid appeared -on the end of the needle, and a further compression -of the plunger caused the globule to drop on -his arm under the puncture.</p> - -<p>“There, that ought to convince any man, sane or -insane,” the cool voice resumed. “Had this been a -deadly culture, you will admit that I would hardly -be so mad as to run even the slightest risk of being -infected by it.”</p> - -<p>His manner and act carried conviction to the perturbed -brain of James Stone.</p> - -<p>There was a chair close to the desk, and the tall -figure collapsed into it. Stone stretched his arms out -across the desk, dropped his head between them, and -gave vent to a hoarse sob.</p> - -<p>“Thank Heaven! Oh, thank Heaven!” he said, in -a choked voice. “I’ve been in torment these last few -months, but it was all for the best. You’ve saved -me from myself, doctor, and I don’t know how to -thank you!”</p> - -<p>The hawklike face above him creased with satisfaction,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -and the thin lips curled back from the sharp -teeth.</p> - -<p>“I ask no thanks,” was the reply. “And allow me -to remind you that I hold your check for a substantial -sum. That is the best thanks to a man who needs all -the money he can lay hands on in order to carry on -costly experiments. I trust you will not regret having -given it to me, although you did so under a misapprehension. -You’ll remember, however, that I did -not promise, at that time, to do away with Crawford. -I merely promised that he would not trouble you after -the twenty-seventh, and I have kept to the agreement. -He will not trouble you, because all your differences -will have vanished by that time—have vanished now, -in fact. Later, of course, I felt compelled to fall in -more nearly with your misguided desires, but that was -nothing more than professional tact. If you had -called yourself the King of Mexico, I would have -humored you in that belief, and bowed down to you.”</p> - -<p>“I understand, of course—now,” Stone replied -gravely. “As for your fee, it’s by no means too -much for what you’ve done. Your skill has given me -back my sanity and my old friend. Say nothing more -about it.”</p> - -<p>Follansbee was not looking to drop the subject, -however.</p> - -<p>“I won’t after this,” he said, “but that reminds me -that the check is for a rather large amount, and it -has occurred to me that your bank may make some -difficulty about cashing it. I won’t present it before -Monday, the twenty-seventh, of course, but if you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> -would write a note to the bank now, it might help -matters.”</p> - -<p>Gratitude and relief made James Stone less cautious -than he might otherwise have been. “Certainly,” he -said, without hesitation. “I’ll be glad to do so.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you. I think I have some of your hotel -stationery here in my pocket. Yes, here it is. I -remember picking some up in the writing room the -other day when I was waiting for you, and wished to -make some notes.”</p> - -<p>He produced several sheets of paper engraved with -the name of the Hotel Windermere, and, selecting -one of them, spread it out on the desk before his -visitor.</p> - -<p>His explanation of the possession of the paper was -sufficiently plausible, and Stone was not in a critical -mood. The result was that the miner scrawled a -brief letter of introduction for Follansbee, accompanied -with a request that the check be cashed without -question.</p> - -<p>If he had only ventured to look up as he signed -the note, he might have been warned that all was not -well, but he did not think of doing so. Follansbee -rose to his feet, and, taking the letter, slipped it into -a plain envelope. Evidently he had not thought best -to provide a hotel envelope in addition to the paper, -for that thorough preparation might have seemed a -little suspicious.</p> - -<p>“And now,” he said, “before you go, I’d like to -offer you a little refreshment, if I may. I have some -very good brandy, and a bit of it would tone you up.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -You need it after all you’ve gone through to-night. -After that you can go back to the hotel.”</p> - -<p>He did not know that Nick’s ruse in regard to the -bell had spoiled Stone’s alibi. Had he been aware -of the fact, it would have given him much food for -thought, but it would not have affected his words to -Stone, for they were spoken merely for effect.</p> - -<p>“And in the morning,” he added, “you will find -Mr. Crawford as well as he ever was in his life.”</p> - -<p>“You are sure of that?” Stone asked eagerly. “The -drug can’t possibly do him any permanent harm?”</p> - -<p>“On my professional honor, it cannot,” Follansbee -assured him. “He won’t know anything about it -when you see him again.”</p> - -<p>He had reached the sideboard now, and he picked -up two glasses which stood beside the decanter containing -the brandy. Stone was by his side as he -poured the liquor, but the ex-miner did not see a suspicious -move. Perhaps it was because he was not -in a suspicious mood. At any rate, there can be no -doubt that it was something more than brandy that -he drank.</p> - -<p>Little more than five minutes later Doctor Follansbee -accompanied Stone to the door, shook hands with -him, and watched him depart. Stone had suggested -the use of the doctor’s phone to call a taxi, but Follansbee -had advised against it.</p> - -<p>“If you’re wise, you’ll walk; at least, a part of the -way,” he had said. “You’ve been through a great -deal to-night, and the exercise will be good for you. -If you can get physically tired, so much the better.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -You’ll be more apt to sleep when you reach your -room.”</p> - -<p>Stone had taken the advice, and started off on foot. -After lingering at the door for a few minutes, the -specialist closed it and disappeared into the house. -Very shortly the lights went out, and he reappeared -on the steps.</p> - -<p>Seemingly, he, too, was going for a stroll, although -it was nearly four o’clock in the morning by that time.</p> - -<p>Curiously enough, Follansbee headed in the same -direction which Stone had taken, and, more curious -still, a slouching figure emerged from an areaway, -crossed the street, and flitted along behind the head -physician of St. Swithin’s.</p> - -<p>The night had been full enough, but it looked as -if other things were still to be crammed into it.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX. -<br /> -<small>A STRANGE DEVELOPMENT.</small></h2> - - -<p>Doctor Stephen Follansbee walked along at a slow -pace, but his movements were not characteristic. -His hands were not folded behind him, and his head -was erect, as if he were peering into the distance in -front, instead of casting his eyes on the ground as he -usually did.</p> - -<p>He had walked down Amsterdam Avenue for several -blocks when a faint monosyllable issued from his -lips.</p> - -<p>“Ah!” he murmured, and sightly quickened his -pace.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> - -<p>The young man who was keeping him in sight from -the other side of the street—and who was evidently -the same one who had opened the limousine door some -time earlier—could not hear the ejaculation, but he -noted the quickened steps and glanced ahead in search -of a reason.</p> - -<p>Half a block beyond was a little group of men -gathered on the sidewalk. When Follansbee approached, -he found that it consisted of a couple of -policemen, and the driver of a taxicab was bending -over the figure of a tall man lying prone on the sidewalk. -The physician had no need to do more than -glance at the figure, for, as the policeman lifted the -body, the rigid features of James Stone were revealed.</p> - -<p>Clearing his throat, Follansbee stepped forward. -“What’s the trouble, officer?” he asked. “Has there -been any accident?”</p> - -<p>One of the men in uniform turned and looked at -Follansbee in a questioning way.</p> - -<p>“I’m Doctor Stephen Follansbee, of St. Swithin’s -Hospital,” the specialist went on. “Here’s my card. -If I can help you in any way, I shall be only too glad -to do so.”</p> - -<p>The patrolman took the card and glanced at it in -the light of a near-by street lamp. When he saw the -name and the string of letters after it, his attitude -instantly changed to one of great respect. It was a -name to conjure with in New York City.</p> - -<p>“It’s lucky you happened along, Doctor Follansbee,” -the spokesman declared, making way for the newcomer, -who stooped and seemed to make an examination.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> - -<p>“It seems to be a paralytic stroke,” Follansbee announced -presently. “You had better call an ambulance -and have him taken somewhere at once.” Then, -as if struck by a new idea, he went on: “Come to think -of it, you might as well send him to St. Swithin’s. I -was going there in a few minutes, anyway. There’s -a special case that needs watching. Why not put him -in this taxi?”</p> - -<p>The cool cunning of the man had its reward.</p> - -<p>Under ordinary circumstances, the unfortunate -Stone would have been taken to another hospital—one -with an emergency ward—but at Follansbee’s -suggestion the inert, heavily-breathing form was lifted -into the machine, and one of the policeman took his -place beside it. Up Amsterdam Avenue, toward the -big hospital over which Follansbee presided, the cab -made its way. Follansbee himself had climbed into -the seat beside the driver, and the ragged young man -who had been following him looked uncertainly after -the dwindling vehicle.</p> - -<p>From that the vagrant’s gaze shifted to the remaining -policeman, who was eying him suspiciously.</p> - -<p>“This is no place for me,” thought the young fellow; -and he made off hurriedly along the side street before -the officer had time to accost him.</p> - -<p>It was Patsy Garvan, Nick Carter’s second assistant, -and he was doing an almost unheard-of thing. -In other words, he was there without his chief’s -knowledge or sanction. It was not as much of a -breach of discipline as it might have been, however, -for he was under Chick’s orders. Chick had something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -of a grudge against Doctor Follansbee, and had -not been altogether satisfied with his chief’s assurance -that he should have a hand in the case later on. It -was impossible for him to do anything himself, because -he was in charge at the detective’s headquarters -in the absence of Carter; but he had done the next -best thing. He had found no trouble in inducing -Patsy Garvan to shadow Follansbee’s house while -Nick Carter was watching James Stone at the hotel.</p> - -<p>“Follansbee is a slippery customer,” Chick had confided -to the other, “and it strikes me that he needs -a little attention. He’s capable of almost anything, -and I’d like nothing better than to bring him up short -without the chief’s help. As that’s out of the question, -though, I’m going to turn him over to you. -Don’t let the chief know what you’re up to, if you can -help it. I’d like to surprise him with some information -that would be news to him; and when it comes -to a showdown, I’ll take all the responsibility.”</p> - -<p>Patsy had accepted the added task with his usual -promptness, and had been leading a sort of double -life for several days. During the hours of daylight -he went about his regular duties as usual. As it -happened, Nick did not give him much night work; -consequently he was able to shadow Follansbee’s house -night after night. He had enjoyed little sleep, but he -did not seem to mind that. He, too, was convinced that -Follansbee was an unusually dangerous man, and -should be carefully “covered,” and he was more than -willing to do the job.</p> - -<p>Now his feelings were decidedly mixed. He had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -ventured to mingle with the group about the prostrate -man, and had discovered his identity. It was unquestionably -James Stone, the man he had seen entering -Follansbee’s house a short time before, and had -subsequently left it.</p> - -<p>Patsy had seen Follansbee watching Stone as the -latter started down the street, and he knew that the -doctor had deliberately waited a few minutes, and -then followed. This meant that the scoundrelly head -of St. Swithin’s had looked for Stone to succumb on -the street, and had planned to have it appear as if by -accident.</p> - -<p>“This is a queer go,” thought Patsy as he hurried -away from the neighborhood of the curious policeman. -“Follansbee must have double crossed Stone just as -Patsy feared he might, and it was pretty foxy of him -to have arranged that the man should take a tumble -on the street several blocks from his house.</p> - -<p>“I’ve stumbled over a discovery sure enough, and -now it’s up to me to report to Chick and let him tell -the chief, as I suppose he will. It might have been -well for me to trail that taxi in order to make sure -of its destination, but I don’t believe there can be any -doubt about that. Follansbee suggested St. Swithin’s, -and the policeman who went along would want -to know the why and wherefore of any change in -plan. It seems safe enough to assume, therefore, -that the Buzzard is taking his latest victim to St. -Swithin’s, and that’s enough for the present. I’d -like to know what the mischief he’s up to, and what -he expects to do with him at the hospital, but that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -will have to keep. Thank Fortune I was on hand to-night. -I’ll bet the chief didn’t dream that this little -affair was going to be pulled off; if not, he certainly -ought to thank Chick and me for giving him the -tip.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXX">CHAPTER XXX. -<br /> -<small>AN UNLUCKY MORNING.</small></h2> - - -<p>Patsy Garvan had reason to congratulate himself -on the outcome of his night’s vigil, but it is to be -feared that he did not follow it up in the best way. -It was nearly half past four in the morning when he -reached Nick’s headquarters, and he unwisely decided -that there was no use of rousing Chick at that hour. -Breakfast was only about three hours off, and he reasoned -that the delay could make little difference.</p> - -<p>Whatever Follansbee had done to Stone was an accomplished -fact, and it was not likely that any more -serious steps would be taken that night. Besides, St. -Swithin’s Hospital was not an easy place to commit -a crime, even though the criminal was at the head of -it. If Follansbee meant to murder Stone, and had -drugged him to get him into his power, the murder -would probably be a slow and subtle one. In that -case a few hours were unimportant.</p> - -<p>Consequently Patsy made his way quietly to his own -room without rousing Chick or leaving any word for -him. He removed his make-up, slipped out of his -ragged suit with a sigh of relief, and was asleep -almost as soon as he touched the bed. He fully expected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -to be up again by half past seven at the latest, -and counted on being called if he showed any tendency -to oversleep. He did not realize, however, that he -had had very little rest for several days, and that -Nature would do her best to make up the shortage -as soon as she had the chance. Nor did it occur to -him that Chick, knowing that he had been doing -double duty, might give orders not to have him called -if he did not appear for breakfast on time.</p> - -<p>The result was that when he awakened, it was to -discover that the sun was pouring into his room with -a warmth and intensity which proved that the day was -several hours old. He rose up in bed with a start -and looked at the little clock on the table.</p> - -<p>“Half past eleven!” he ejaculated, in amazement. -“Great Scott! I wouldn’t have had this happen for -the world. Why the dickens didn’t I make a report -of some sort last night before turning in? I might -have known that I would sleep like a log, and that -Chick might see I wasn’t disturbed.”</p> - -<p>Without stopping to dress, he stuck his head out of -the door and shouted Chick’s name at the top of his -voice. The housekeeper heard him, and came bustling -down the hall.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Chick was called out of town this morning,” -she said, greatly to the young assistant’s chagrin.</p> - -<p>“Where to?” he demanded.</p> - -<p>“To Providence.”</p> - -<p>“To a hotel?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll bring you the note he left for Mr. Carter.”</p> - -<p>She hurried into the celebrated detective’s study and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -presently returned with a slip of paper. On it the -chief assistant had explained his errand, and said that -he hoped to be back by night, but would be running -about most of the day. He added that he would try -to keep in touch with the Sound Hotel, and could be -reached there if he was wanted.</p> - -<p>The information did not sound promising, but Patsy -was obliged to make the best of it. Putting on a -bath robe and slippers, he ran to the chief’s study -and attempted to reach Chick on the long-distance -telephone. As he had anticipated, he had not yet arrived -at the hotel. He left a message asking that he -be called as soon as possible; but after he had done -so, he decided that he could not wait for that. There -were too many uncertainties, and the delay might -prove serious.</p> - -<p>“Confound it, this is a pretty mess,” he told himself. -“I can’t be sure about Chick any more. I’ll -have to ’fess up to the chief—if I can get hold of -him.”</p> - -<p>The housekeeper was once more summoned, and -from her Patsy learned that the chief had not been -there either the night before or that morning.</p> - -<p>“He’s still at the Windermere, I suppose,” the -housekeeper suggested.</p> - -<p>“Let’s hope he is,” Patsy answered, and returned -to the phone. He gave the number of the Hotel -Windermere, and was promptly connected.</p> - -<p>“Is Mr. Mortimer—Mr. Thomas Mortimer—there?” -he inquired anxiously.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> - -<p>“One moment, please.”</p> - -<p>He kept the receiver to his ear for a few seconds, -and then the clerk’s voice sounded again.</p> - -<p>“Hello?” it said. “Mr. Mortimer isn’t in at present. -He went out with a friend immediately after -breakfast. He’s been gone about two hours now.”</p> - -<p>Patsy could have kicked himself at that moment. -“Have you any idea where he has gone?”</p> - -<p>“No, I haven’t. He went out with another of our -guests, though, and——”</p> - -<p>The assistant caught eagerly at that clew. “Was -it Mr. Crawford?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s the gentleman. I’m sorry I can’t tell -you more. Mr. Mortimer doesn’t seem to have left -any word. Will you leave a message for him?”</p> - -<p>Patsy thought for a moment. “No, I believe not,” -he said, after a pause. “I’ll telephone later on, or -drop around there.”</p> - -<p>He replaced the receiver and leaned back disappointedly. -“Worse and more of it,” he mused. “First, -Chick slips out of my reach, and now the chief is off -somewhere. This is certainly my unlucky morning. -Of course, Chick didn’t suppose I had anything of -importance to report, and that’s why he let me sleep. -Now time is flying. Follansbee has got Stone in his -clutches for some beastly purpose of his own, and I -don’t know what to do about it. It’s up to the chief -to decide that, and I can’t reach him.”</p> - -<p>He had not dictated a message for Carter because -the matter was too confidential for that; besides, he -expected to present himself at the hotel before long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -and wait for his chief, if the latter had not yet returned.</p> - -<p>First, though, he must dress and snatch a bite -of breakfast. His dressing and shaving occupied only -about twenty minutes in all—with a cold plunge -thrown in—and when he reached the dining room, he -found the housekeeper waiting for him. His coming -seemed to be a signal, for she vanished at once into -the regions behind, but soon returned bearing a tray. -Patsy was a favorite of hers, and she was doing him -the honor of serving him in person.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Chick said to let you sleep,” she declared, -nodding her gray head. “Heaven only knows when -you came in last night. I was awake until twelve.”</p> - -<p>Patsy grinned. “You missed me by a minute or -two,” he answered, as he attacked his breakfast.</p> - -<p>His conscience was pricking him most uncomfortably, -and although he was hungry, he would have -eaten little if he had had his own way. The housekeeper -stood over him, however, and saw to it that -he made a good meal. The breakfast consumed fifteen -minutes of his precious time, and even then the -elderly lady sniffed as she picked up the tray.</p> - -<p>“You oughtn’t to bolt your food like that, Mr. -Garvan,” she complained. “You’ll be a martyr to indigestion -before you’re forty. Don’t you think you -might bite a thing twice before it goes down?”</p> - -<p>She had gained her main point, however, and that -was something. She returned to the kitchen, and -Patsy hurried out of the house.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> - -<p>He had ordered one of Nick’s runabouts brought -round, and in it he drove to the hotel.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Mortimer” had not yet returned.</p> - -<p>He said something under his breath, and decided -not to wait. He was too uneasy by that time, for -James Stone’s fate was troubling him. Accordingly -he left word with the clerk for “Mr. Mortimer” to -remain in when he came, if possible, until he could -be communicated with. That done, he jumped into -the runabout again and headed northward in the direction -of St. Swithin’s Hospital.</p> - -<p>It was well that he did so, for his luck was to -change.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI. -<br /> -<small>NICK HAS A HUNCH.</small></h2> - - -<p>“You, Carter!”</p> - -<p>Winthrop Crawford had raised himself in bed, and, -leaning on one arm, was staring wonderingly at the -figure of the detective seated in a chair close to the -head of the bed.</p> - -<p>Nick had removed his false mustache, and although -he was still dressed in one of the suits he had worn -as “Thomas Mortimer,” Crawford recognized the -clean-cut features.</p> - -<p>“It is rather an early hour to make a call, Crawford,” -the detective said, with an apologetic smile.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m always glad to see you,” was the answer. -“Hanged if I understand how you got in, though. -Wasn’t my door locked?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I believe it was,” was the calm response.</p> - -<p>“Then——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you ought to know that locked doors don’t -trouble me, Crawford,” Nick broke in, his smile broadening. -“I sometimes tickle their keyholes a little, and -sometimes pass around them.”</p> - -<p>He was delighted and greatly relieved to have Crawford -awake and evidently in such good trim.</p> - -<p>“And which method did you employ in this instance?” -inquired the man on the bed, with a twinkle -in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell you all about that when I come to it. It’s -too long to be dismissed in a sentence. As a matter -of fact, this is by no means my first visit to your -room since you went to bed last night, and I’ve spent -considerable time here.”</p> - -<p>Crawford looked bewildered. “What on earth -for?” he demanded; then, as he saw Nick eying him -queerly, he added: “Why are you looking at me like -that? What has happened?”</p> - -<p>Instead of answering, the detective put another -question. “How do you feel this morning?” he queried.</p> - -<p>Crawford searched Nick’s face as though he were -half afraid that his visitor had lost his senses.</p> - -<p>“I feel like a fighting cock,” he said promptly. -“Why should I feel any other way?”</p> - -<p>Nick’s face had grown stern. “Because some five -or six hours ago,” he answered gravely, “you were -forcibly drugged, and a murderous attack was made -upon you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> - -<p>The blank look of amazement that came into Crawford’s -eyes increased as memory returned to him. -He sat up in bed and stared at the detective.</p> - -<p>“Good heavens, I remember now!” he broke out. -“I—I thought at first, though, that it was only a -nightmare.” He raised his brown, muscular hand -and passed it across his brow. “Yes,” he muttered -slowly, “I remember—I saw Jim Stone—I saw the -wet sponge—his terrible face!”</p> - -<p>His voice died away into a frail whisper, whereupon -Nick came up closer to the bed and laid a -kindly hand on the man’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>“Stone drugged you,” he explained; “but that -was not the worst he tried to do. The drug was only -administered so that you might be kept quiet during -what was to follow. Look!”</p> - -<p>With a quick movement he pulled back Crawford’s -right sleeve, and then, extending his finger, indicated -a small speck of hardened blood on the tanned forearm.</p> - -<p>“That mark covers a puncture made by the hypodermic -syringe,” the calm voice went on, “and it was -charged with the bacilli of some deadly disease when -it was first handed to Stone to operate with.”</p> - -<p>The mine owner listened rigidly.</p> - -<p>“Again?” he whispered hoarsely. “Jim has tried -again?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and he came very near accomplishing it this -time,” the detective answered. “Fortunately, however, -I was in a position to take a hand. Had I not -done so, I’m afraid it would have been all up with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -you. Neither you nor any one else would have -known of what had happened, and by the time you -had begun to feel the effects of the injection you -would probably have been beyond hope or help.”</p> - -<p>He seated himself at the foot of the bed and quietly -told the whole story. Before it was concluded, the -lined, russet face of the miner had become sallow and -beaded with perspiration. He leaned back on the -pillow, his hands clasped behind his head.</p> - -<p>“This is frightful; far more so than anything I -dreamed of,” he said, in an uncertain voice. “How -can I reward you for what you’ve done?”</p> - -<p>The detective leaned forward and laid his hands -on the covers over one of the raised knees.</p> - -<p>“The only reward I ask for,” he said, “is to see -you rouse yourself to the true situation. If there -was any doubt before, certainly none can be present -now. Your old partner is insane, and has fallen into -the hands of one of the most cunning, unscrupulous -rascals at large to-day. He was dangerous enough -before when he only had the shrewdness of his own -misguided instincts to aid him, but now you’re up -against something much worse. You have to deal -not only with a homicidal lunatic, but through him with -a scientific criminal of the most dangerous sort. The -combination is an extraordinary one, and has possibilities -for evil that stagger the imagination.”</p> - -<p>“Do you really believe that—about this doctor, I -mean?”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure of it. Long before I ever saw you I -knew he was a scamp. That’s why I took a room<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -here at the Windermere when I found that Stone was -consorting with him.”</p> - -<p>“Is it possible? I don’t understand it. Isn’t he the -one I told you about—the one whom young Floyd -recommended to Jimmy?”</p> - -<p>“I take it for granted that he is. He has a reputation -second to none in his line, and there’s no reason -to suppose that your own friend was not sincere when -he made the condition that Stone should visit Doctor -Follansbee. If so, though, he has a great deal to learn -about the scoundrelly head of St. Swithin’s Hospital.”</p> - -<p>“But in what way is Follansbee a scoundrel? I -should think he would have altogether too much to -lose by crime, no matter what his secret tendencies -were. What can he hope to gain by using poor Jim’s -irresponsible enmity to me? He is jeopardizing a -great position.”</p> - -<p>“True, but he thinks he can get away with it,” -remarked Nick. “They all do, you know—until they -wake up. As for his anticipated reward, you may be -sure it’s a very large one. Follansbee’s are always -that, and in such a case as this, he must have named -a huge price. Stone is in a position, of course, to -pay a big sum, and his mental condition makes him -an easy victim. That may be the whole explanation, -but I have a feeling that it isn’t. Something tells me -that Follansbee is after more than the fee he has -named.”</p> - -<p>“What are you driving at? How could he profit -in any other way by my death?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That’s what I’d like to find out,” Nick told him; -“and you ought to be able to help me, if any one can.”</p> - -<p>“In what way?”</p> - -<p>“Well, have you made a will?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I attended to that soon after we sold the -Condor.”</p> - -<p>“And who is the chief beneficiary named in it, may -I ask?”</p> - -<p>“Jim, of course. He’s practically the sole beneficiary, -for no other living person has ever been half -so close to me as he.”</p> - -<p>“I shouldn’t wonder if that explained it,” the detective -said thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>The bearded mining man looked startled. “I’m -afraid I don’t follow you,” he said. “Tell me plainly -what you have in your mind.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I may be mistaken,” was the answer, “but it -seems rather significant. As I’ve said, your partner’s -condition makes him an easy mark. Does he by -any chance know of the terms of your will?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly. I told him what I had done after it -was drawn up.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a pity. I do not believe he has his eyes on -the money. If I read his mental state aright, he’s -only actuated by groundless, diseased hate and suspicion, -and that so fills his distorted brain that it -doesn’t leave any room for money considerations. It’s -very possible, however, that Follansbee has pumped -him, and learned the facts in regard to your will. -If so, it wouldn’t surprise me a bit to find that the -rascal was plotting in some way, either with or without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -Stone’s knowledge, to appropriate most, if not -all, of your fortune.”</p> - -<p>“By Jove! I wonder if you’re right!”</p> - -<p>“I feel that I am. It strikes me that Follansbee -wouldn’t have taken the risks involved in this thing, -especially after having had one brush with me, unless -there had been a huge reward in prospect. Half a -million or so would tempt almost any man who had -any criminal tendencies, you know.”</p> - -<p>He paused, gazed into vacancy, and then added -slowly: “To tell the truth, I’m not convinced that he -would be content with your share of the proceeds -from the sale of the mine. When the covetousness -of a man like that once gets to working, there’s no -telling to what length it may go. I shouldn’t wonder -if he aspired to the possession of Stone’s share as well -as yours.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII. -<br /> -<small>“THE MAN WHO NEVER LETS GO.”</small></h2> - - -<p>If Winthrop Crawford had been startled before, -he was dumfounded now.</p> - -<p>“Great guns!” he ejaculated, rising up again and -planting his hands on his knees. “Is it possible that -you think the fellow is capable of trying to kill Jimmy, -too?”</p> - -<p>“He’s capable of anything, Crawford, if he thinks -it is safe. Figure it out for yourself. A demented -man comes to him and gets into his power. Follansbee<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -tempts him to unburden himself and makes a -criminal proposition. He agrees directly or indirectly -to lend the aid of his science for the carrying -out of his patient’s murderous grudge in return -for a substantial fee—twenty-five or fifty thousand -dollars, let us say. Incidentally he learns that his -patient has been named as the chief beneficiary in the -will of the man whose doom is sealed. He naturally -itches to get hold of that fortune, or a large part of -it, and plots to do so. That’s the next step. But -there are others—inevitable ones.</p> - -<p>“To the best of his knowledge,” the detective went -on, “his poor, misguided tool carries out his instructions, -and inoculates the other man with the active -principal of some dread tropical disease. So far, so -good—or so bad. What comes next? Why, the -logical development, of course. The unscrupulous -doctor has schemed in one way or another to benefit -by the victim’s death, and now when that seems to be -provided for, he realizes how completely the man who -has actually done the deed is under his thumb.</p> - -<p>“His patient is practically a murderer, and, as such, -liable to be blackmailed to the limit. Also, the man’s -brain is unbalanced, and that makes it possible to work -upon his fears in an unusual way. Why should such -a man have nearly a million in the bank? Can he -enjoy it to the full with the specter of remorse always -at his elbow? Couldn’t somebody else—the doctor, -for instance—get a lot more out of that money? The -answer is a foregone conclusion; but there’s another -consideration as well. The doctor has an accomplice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -whom he cannot trust because of that same mental -instability. An insane man is proud of his crimes, and -likes to boast about them. He does so without any -sense of responsibility. But that would never do in -this instance, for such boasting would be almost certain -to involve the doctor himself. Therefore, to the -latter’s mind, there would be an additional reason -for getting rid of his patient-accomplice. An additional -fortune on the one hand—as a result of a little -more clever manipulation—and the prevention of indiscreet -blabbing on the other. Can you doubt the -outcome?”</p> - -<p>Crawford seized Nick’s arm excitedly. “You’re -right!” he agreed. “Jimmy isn’t safe for a moment -while he’s in that fiend’s clutches. Where is he now?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” the detective admitted. “He went -away with Follansbee after giving you the injection. -It was impossible for me to follow at the time; besides, -I was altogether too uneasy in mind about you. -I realized that your partner might be running into -danger, but up to that time it had not come to me so -forcibly as it did since. Even if it had, however, I -should still have felt that my first duty was to you, -and that your safety was more important.”</p> - -<p>“No, no!” cried the miner, gripping Nick’s arm -until it ached. “You’re wrong there! My life is -nothing to me compared with Jimmy’s safety. Hasn’t -he come back yet?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think so. He hasn’t been in his room, -at least.”</p> - -<p>“Then there isn’t a moment to lose. Good heavens,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -this is maddening! Something terrible may have -happened to him. We may be too late.”</p> - -<p>“Calm yourself,” the detective advised kindly. “I -don’t think you need fear any immediate danger. -Follansbee uses subtle methods in order to cover his -tracks, and subtle methods take time.”</p> - -<p>“That may be, but I cannot have a moment’s peace -until Jimmy is found and wrested from that devil’s -influence. I’ll dress at once, and——”</p> - -<p>“Go ahead,” Nick interrupted, getting up from the -bed. “You mustn’t think of taking a hand in this, -though.”</p> - -<p>“But I must, man—for Jimmy’s sake. You admit -yourself that you let him go off with that rascal without -lifting a hand.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true, but if you feel this way about it, I’ll -consider him first hereafter. You can’t take part -in it in person, though. I must insist upon your keeping -out of it. Remember your position, Crawford. -You’re supposed to have been infected by that injection, -and you’re also supposed to know nothing -about it. You can’t admit any knowledge of the -hypodermic without letting the cat out of the bag -and putting Follansbee on his guard against me.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true,” murmured the miner. “I was forgetting -that. What can I do, then?”</p> - -<p>“You’ll have to keep your hands off and trust me -to manage the affair.”</p> - -<p>“I will, if you’ll promise not to have Jimmy locked -up, if you can possibly avoid it; and, above all, not -to charge him with this latest mad attempt against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -my life. As I told you before, nobody else is in -any danger from him. I’m sure of that, and I’m still -willing to take any risk in order to shield him, even -after what happened last night. If you can get him -away from Follansbee, and put him in the care of -some conscientious physician—some one who won’t -hustle him off to an asylum the first thing—I shall be -satisfied.”</p> - -<p>The detective smiled grimly. “That’s all very -well,” he said; “but what about Follansbee? Don’t -you realize that if we let one of them off, both will -necessarily go free?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose so,” confessed Crawford. “I’d give -anything to see that scoundrel get all that’s coming -to him, but you understand my position. I can’t and -won’t consent to sacrifice my old partner for the sake -of punishing his accomplice. That’s out of the question. -Follansbee is as dangerous as they make them, -I’ll admit, but I’m afraid you’ll have to find some -way of getting around it—of reaching him without -involving Stone.”</p> - -<p>“You make my task a very hard one,” Nick told -him gravely. “In the face of such a condition, Follansbee -seems to be beyond reach; but perhaps he isn’t. -We’ll have to wait and see. He may make a false -step before we get through, and if he does——”</p> - -<p>He did not finish the sentence, but the way in which -he said the words boded no good to Doctor Stephen -Follansbee. Crawford had only to look at the detective -at that moment to realize why Nick Carter -was called “the man who never lets go.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XXXIII">CHAPTER XXXIII. -<br /> -<small>WILL HE SCORE?</small></h2> - - -<p>Winthrop Crawford was not satisfied, however. -His anxiety was centered about the welfare of his -old friend, and he could not lose sight of Stone’s continued -absence from the Windermere.</p> - -<p>“But what are you going to do about Jimmy?” he -asked eagerly. “Don’t delay, man. Hunt him up as -soon as possible, even if you have to defy Follansbee, -and mess things up generally in order to do so.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry about that, Crawford. I’ll look out -for your friend. He may have spent the night at -Follansbee’s house. At any rate, the doctor is a -marked man, and if Stone has gone anywhere with -his companion, it ought to be a comparatively easy -matter to trace them. You can’t stay here, though, -while I’m doing it.”</p> - -<p>“Why not?”</p> - -<p>“For various reasons. If you did so, and Stone -came back, it would be hard to act as if nothing had -happened, and he would be watching you with lynx -eyes, waiting to see the effect of the injection. I -haven’t had time yet to analyze the original contents -of the syringe, so that I can’t say just how the stuff -is supposed to act. In order to be on the safe side, -though, you’ll have to leave the Windermere for the -time being. If you’re out of their sight, they will -not be able to keep tabs on your condition, and we can -easily enough make them believe that the disease which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -they suppose has been introduced into your system is -following its normal course.”</p> - -<p>“But won’t Jimmy think it strange if I disappear -after I’ve stuck to him so long—stuck to him against -his will?”</p> - -<p>“You can leave word for him. Write him a note -and make some excuse that will sound plausible.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I could do that,” the miner agreed. “Where -do you want me to go?”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t thought of any particular place as yet. -That will come later, but it is necessary that you -should go away at once. Furthermore, I want the -people here in the hotel to see you and me go out together.”</p> - -<p>Crawford soon became convinced that something -of the sort was desirable. He was very reluctant to -leave the hotel before learning anything definite concerning -Stone’s whereabouts, but there seemed no help -for it, and Nick promised to let him know at frequent -intervals whenever anything new came up. By half-past -nine o’clock Crawford and the detective—the -latter once more in the guise of Thomas Mortimer—were -eating their breakfast in the dining room. Making -a pretense of eating, however, would be the better -way of describing the half-hearted way in which the -man from South America toyed with his food.</p> - -<p>Before ten o’clock they had both left the Windermere -without giving any one a hint as to their destination. -So far as the detective knew, he was the only -one on the case; therefore it did not occur to him to -keep Chick advised of his comings and goings.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> - -<p>Crawford took with him nothing in the way of -baggage; therefore they were obliged to purchase a -suit case and enough clothing for a few days. That -done, they boarded a train at the Grand Central Terminal, -and about half an hour later alighted in one of -the northern suburbs within sight of Long Island -Sound.</p> - -<p>A motor bus from the hotel met the train and took -them to a huge pile of masonry on a hill overlooking -the water. It was one of the best-known hotels in -the neighborhood of New York, and much frequented -by those who wished to go away from the bustle of -the great city for a few days. There Crawford registered, -at Nick’s suggestion, under an assumed name.</p> - -<p>They had parted, and the detective was already descending -the steps, when the miner ran after him.</p> - -<p>“I’ve just thought of something that may help you -to an understanding of poor old Jim’s condition,” -Crawford said breathlessly. “It has occurred to me -that he used to knock about the mine without his hat -on last year in all that broiling sun, and I know that -many years ago, when he was a boy, an axhead hit -him on the skull. He was watching somebody chop -wood, and the head became loosened and flew off the -handle. Isn’t it possible that that injury affected him -somehow, but that the trouble didn’t manifest itself -until recently?”</p> - -<p>Nick nodded. “There may be something in that,” -he said. “The exposure to the sun may have developed -the latent disease, somewhat in the way photographic -film is developed. I’m glad you told me of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -that. It makes it clearer than ever that your friend -is a victim himself, and should not be judged harshly.”</p> - -<p>“That’s it,” Crawford agreed eagerly. “He deserves -all the mercy you can show him, Carter. I’m -positive that if he ever returns to his senses he will -be absolutely heartbroken to hear what he has tried -to do. I tell you, Jimmy Stone loves me like a brother, -and he would rather cut off his right hand than harm -me. You must save him—save him from Follansbee -first of all, and then from himself. If you do, there’s -nothing you can’t ask of me.”</p> - -<p>Nick ignored the generous promise. “The affection -of man for man is a wonderful thing, Crawford,” -he said quietly. “I’m glad to have known you and -had this proof of what loyalty means. I must go -now, though. Try to have patience and take things -as quietly as you can. I’ll do my best for Stone, and -telephone you from time to time.”</p> - -<p>As he returned to the station, the detective felt sure -that his promise to Winthrop Crawford would greatly -hamper his movements but he shrugged his shoulders -philosophically.</p> - -<p>“Follansbee is a lucky rascal, and a keen one,” he -thought. “He has remained in the background, and -even that telltale conversation I overheard last night -doesn’t seem destined to be used as a weapon against -him. He’s certainly stolen a base or two, but he may -yet be called out at the home plate!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV. -<br /> -<small>A VISIT TO THE BANK.</small></h2> - - -<p>The journey to and from the suburban hotel had -occupied considerable time, and it was almost one -o’clock before the detective returned to the Windermere.</p> - -<p>The clerk saw him enter the lobby and called him -to the desk. He was informed of the telephone message -and of Patsy’s call at the hotel. He realized, -of course, that one of his assistants had been trying -to get in touch with him, but he did not know that it -was in connection with that particular case.</p> - -<p>Moreover, something came up which made it necessary -for him to disregard Patsy’s injunction to remain -in until he could be reached.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Crawford hasn’t come back yet, Mr. Mortimer?” -the clerk asked. “The gentleman seemed to -know him, too.”</p> - -<p>The detective had turned away from the desk, but -he faced about and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid that Crawford will not be back for -some time,” he replied. “He was taken very ill while -we were out together, and I had to remove him to -a hospital. I’m not quite sure what’s the matter with -him. I’m afraid, though, that it’s some sort of fever -which he may have contracted in South America.”</p> - -<p>The hotel clerk looked startled. “It’s nothing very -serious, I hope?” he said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I trust not,” was the reply. “The hospital people -feel sure that it isn’t contagious, if that’s what you -mean.”</p> - -<p>Again he started to leave the desk, but the clerk -once more detained him. “A messenger came from -the Standard National Bank about half an hour ago,” -the young man explained. “He asked for either Mr. -Stone or Mr. Crawford, and said it was very important. -Mr. Stone was in his room in the small hours of -the morning, I understand, but he isn’t there now, and -nobody seems to have seen him about the building -this morning.”</p> - -<p>A little glint came into Nick’s eyes, but the clerk -did not notice it.</p> - -<p>“The Standard National is near here, isn’t it?” he -inquired, although he knew perfectly well.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it’s just around the corner,” and the clerk -indicated the direction.</p> - -<p>“Then I think I’ll drop around there. I can give -them some information about Crawford, anyway; besides, -we’ve come to know each other pretty well.”</p> - -<p>His manner was careless, but inwardly he attached -a great deal of importance to the bit of information -which by chance had come his way. It suggested one -of the possibilities he had feared, namely, that Follansbee -would try some trick to get possession of a -large sum of money belonging to one or the other -of the partners, or both.</p> - -<p>It being Saturday, he found the bank closed when -he reached it, but most of the employees were still -on hand, and his knock soon brought a response.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -He mentioned his business to the clerk who opened -the door, and a few moments later he was led into the -cashier’s room. The bank official had expected either -Stone or Crawford, and his face betrayed his disappointment. -His manner was another proof that -something out of the ordinary had occurred, or was -impending.</p> - -<p>Nick drew a card front his pocket and held it out -silently. As soon as the cashier saw the name, -“Nicholas Carter,” his eyes widened.</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing wrong, Mr. Carter, I hope?” he -asked quickly. “I was very doubtful of honoring the -check, but I had Mr. Stone’s own note to justify me.”</p> - -<p>From the desk at his elbow he picked up a sheet -of paper bearing the Hotel Windermere heading, and -held it out. Nick glanced at the big, careless scrawl.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said. “I’ve seen specimens of Stone’s -writing, and I don’t think there’s any doubt that this -is his.”</p> - -<p>The cashier then extended a check marked “paid,” -and made out to “S. Follansbee.”</p> - -<p>There were probably several men among New York -City’s five millions who had the right to that name -and initial, but it seemed perfectly safe to eliminate -all but one. It was the sum called for, however, -that riveted the detective’s attention at once and -caused him to fairly gasp.</p> - -<p>“Four hundred and fifty thousand dollars!” he -ejaculated. “Great Scott! That practically cleans -out Stone’s account, doesn’t it?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> - -<p>“It leaves only twenty-five or thirty thousand, I -believe,” was the worried answer.</p> - -<p>The detective was still examining the check, and -the cashier watched the keen face for a few moments.</p> - -<p>“You seem greatly startled by the amount, Mr. -Carter,” he ventured presently. “Please tell me if -there’s anything out of the way. I had my doubts -about it—owing solely to the size of the check; therefore -I kept the man waiting until I had sent around -to the hotel to make sure, but neither Mr. Stone nor -his friend Mr. Crawford, who also has a large sum -on deposit, was within reach.”</p> - -<p>“Did Follansbee present the check?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. It was a young man who looked like a -rather superior sort of servant, and who spoke English -with a slight accent—German or Austrian, I think. -The check was endorsed, as you see, and the man -brought with him not only that note purporting to be -signed by Mr. Stone, but also one from Doctor Follansbee -on St. Swithin’s stationery. Here it is.”</p> - -<p>He handed Nick another sheet, bearing Follansbee’s -signature under an authorization to cash the -check for his agent.</p> - -<p>“That’s undoubtedly genuine,” the cashier went on. -“I called up Doctor Follansbee at the hospital, and he -assured me that everything was regular. There didn’t -seem to be anything to do but to take his word for -it, owing to his position and reputation. It seemed -very queer, though, and I couldn’t understand why -he didn’t send the check to his own bank and let it -take the usual course.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You cashed it, then, in currency?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, the man brought along a hand bag and carried -away the money in it.”</p> - -<p>“Did you mark any of the bills?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; many of those of large denomination. I -felt compelled to take that precaution, although it -seemed foolish. There were too many of them, -though, to mark anywhere near all.”</p> - -<p>Carter leaned forward suddenly, and, holding -Stone’s note and the check together, placed them in -front of the cashier.</p> - -<p>“Do you notice any striking peculiarities about -these two documents?” he asked.</p> - -<p>The bank official scrutinized them carefully.</p> - -<p>“I don’t quite know what you mean,” he said at -length. “Oh, I think I see. All except the signature -of the check seems to be written in another hand—more -like Follansbee’s than Stone’s. Is that it?”</p> - -<p>“That the most obvious,” the detective answered. -“It hints that Stone was foolish enough to sign a -blank check or something of that sort. That isn’t -all, though. One would naturally assume that the -check and Stone’s note authorizing the payment had -been written at the same time, yet I’d swear the ink -on this check is older—perhaps several days older—than -that on the note. What’s more, I happen to -know that, although this note is written on hotel paper, -the ink used is not the shade of that furnished at the -Windermere.”</p> - -<p>“By George!” muttered the cashier. “This is getting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -serious. You don’t mean to tell me that Doctor -Stephen Follansbee is a scamp?”</p> - -<p>“These things speak for themselves, don’t they?” -Nick asked quietly. “And there are other straws -which show the way the wind is blowing.”</p> - -<p>“What, for instance?”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXXV">CHAPTER XXXV. -<br /> -<small>THE DOCTOR GETS A SURPRISE.</small></h2> - - -<p>The fires were now burning brightly in the great -detective’s eyes.</p> - -<p>“I’m of the opinion that this note isn’t more than -a few hours old,” he said, tapping the paper signed -by Stone. “The ink is still fresh, and, besides, there’s -the date—the twenty-fifth.”</p> - -<p>“What of that?” demanded the cashier. “The -check is also dated to-day.”</p> - -<p>“But it wasn’t made out to-day.”</p> - -<p>“Still, I don’t see what you’re driving at. The -check may have been dated ahead, and when the time -approached for presenting it, Follansbee might have -asked for the note to present along with it.”</p> - -<p>“Doubtless that’s what happened, but what I’m -getting at is this:</p> - -<p>“This note purports to have been written at the -Hotel Windermere on the twenty-fifth—to-day. I -happen to know, however, that Stone hasn’t been at -the hotel since about three o’clock this morning, and -I’m pretty well aware of the manner in which he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -occupied while he was there. It isn’t likely that he -wrote this note between midnight and three o’clock, -and even if he did do so, it isn’t probable that he would -have dated it to-day. Under such circumstances a -man would jot down the date of the day before, nine -times out of ten.”</p> - -<p>“Then you think that the note was written after -he left the hotel?”</p> - -<p>“I do, and I believe that the paper was thoughtfully -given to him for the purpose, after having previously -been removed from the hotel. That in itself is suspicious. -It suggests a plot, and it, together with the -character of the writing, hints that the note was written -under pressure, or that Stone was not himself -when he scribbled it. You can see the difference between -the note, signature and all, and the signature -on the check. The latter is big and bold and careless, -but the note, although obviously written in the -same hand, is tremulous and betrays agitation.”</p> - -<p>Expert as he was, Carter was a little astray there. -He was not in a position to know that the agitation -revealed had been due not to any threats of Follansbee’s, -but to the fact that Stone had been sane once -more when he wrote it, and was suffering from the -effects of his recent alarm and remorse.</p> - -<p>As for his reasoning concerning the date on the -note, it was sound enough in general, but the fact -was the note had been written at Follansbee’s, and -that one of the doctor’s servants, before retiring for -the night, had torn off the sheet on the top of the pad -calendar on the desk. That bearing the date of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -twenty-fourth, had consequently gone into the waste -basket, and the following date had been revealed in -anticipation of the next day. Stone had glanced at -this, and mechanically copied it.</p> - -<p>“Then you think that this check and note were -written under undue influence?” queried the cashier.</p> - -<p>Nick nodded emphatically.</p> - -<p>“There isn’t the slightest doubt about it,” he answered. -“As a matter of fact, Stone has been suffering -for months from some obscure mental trouble, and -that is what took him to Doctor Follansbee.”</p> - -<p>“Is it possible!” whispered the bank official. -“That’s very unfortunate. We couldn’t be expected -to know that, though; and, after all, I hardly see -what other course we could have followed.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s all right,” Nick assured him. “The -bank can’t be blamed. It was an unusual proceeding, -but you had ample justification for honoring the -check, and you did what you could to get hold of -Stone or his partner before doing so.”</p> - -<p>A relieved look spread over the cashier’s face.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad to hear you say that, Mr. Carter,” he -declared gravely. “Both the president and vice president -are out of town, and this thing is up to me. As -a matter of fact, it seems to me that Mr. Stone -oughtn’t to have been allowed to handle so much -money if he’s in the state you say he is. We’re not -alienists, and we would never have expected such a -thing. Besides, the check would not have been honored -had it not been made out to a man of such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -prominence who personally vouched for the proceeding, -as he did over the telephone.”</p> - -<p>“I understand,” Nick said consolingly. “Don’t -worry about your end of it. I think I can promise -you that there won’t be any comeback. It’s up to -me, though, to repair the damage, if I can. I had -come to fear something of this sort in the last few -hours, but Follansbee has stolen a march on me. I -don’t think his methods do any very great credit to -his undoubted shrewdness, though, and the evidence -you have to offer ought to be enough to make it hot -for him.”</p> - -<p>He left a few minutes later, after promising to -keep the bank informed of developments.</p> - -<p>“Follansbee has made the haul of his life,” Nick -thought, as he paced along the busy street on his way -back to the hotel; “and evidently Crawford wasn’t -his only victim.”</p> - -<p>When he reached the Windermere, his first act was -to inquire if Stone had returned or if anything had -been heard from him.</p> - -<p>“Nothing doing,” was the clerk’s answer. “We’re -somewhat alarmed, Mr. Mortimer. We don’t see -how he could have left his room without the knowledge -of the floor clerk.”</p> - -<p>Nick looked about and saw there was no one else -within earshot. He leaned confidentially over the -desk.</p> - -<p>“I know how he left the building,” he told the -clerk; “and although I don’t feel at liberty to tell you -the whole story, I’ll say this much: I’m Nicholas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -Carter, not Thomas Mortimer, and I have been keeping -an eye on Stone and Crawford—for their good.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t mean it!” cried the clerk, eying Nick’s -make-up inquiringly. “I hope they haven’t done anything——”</p> - -<p>“Nothing of that sort,” Nick assured him quickly. -“It’s a long story, and the time hasn’t come to tell -it. Just keep it dark, therefore. I revealed my identity -to your house detective last night, but I don’t -want it to be generally known that I’ve been here in -disguise.”</p> - -<p>“Trust me, Mr. Carter; I understand. Is Mr. -Crawford really ill, though?”</p> - -<p>Nick gave a slow wink. “No, he isn’t,” he admitted. -“I put that one over on you for reasons of -my own, and I want you to pass the story on to any -one who inquires after him. He won’t be back for a -few days, but you’re to hold his room for him. I’ll -be responsible.”</p> - -<p>“And Mr. Stone?”</p> - -<p>“I think I know where to find him, and I’m going -to trace him without delay. Something may have happened -to him, but nothing very serious, I’m sure. -I’m going to give up my room now, since there doesn’t -seem to be anything else I can do here. By the way, -I have reason to believe that the young man who -phoned for me and called here later is one of my assistants. -If he asks for me again after I leave, try -to find out his identity without letting the cat out of -the bag, and if he satisfies you, tell him I’ve gone -home.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was after two o’clock when Nick arrived at the -house uptown, where he inquired first for Chick and -then for Patsy Garvan. His housekeeper informed -him that Chick was in Providence, and that Patsy -had seemed very anxious to reach his fellow assistant -or his chief that morning.</p> - -<p>“You don’t know why?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, I don’t; but I think it is something important. -He’s been out every night lately, and goodness -knows what time he’s been coming in. He slept -until half past eleven this morning, and that’s why -he missed Mr. Chick.”</p> - -<p>“Did he say where he was going?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir.”</p> - -<p>It was plain that Patsy had stumbled over something -important and was badly in need of advice, but -it did not occur to the detective that it could have anything -to do with Follansbee or Stone. He had given -out no assignment of that sort. He found several -matters which demanded his attention, and spent some -time at his headquarters. He was impatient for the -next move, but delayed a little in the hope that Patsy -would put in an appearance. At length, however, -having heard nothing from his young assistant, he -determined on a bold step—nothing less than to seek -out Doctor Follansbee and confront the cunning rogue -with the evidence he had gathered.</p> - -<p>“It’s doubtful if I will be able to bring him to -terms,” he told himself, “for I doubt if he has a -nerve in his body. It’s worth trying, though. If -he realizes that I’ve taken up the case, it will make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -him move more cautiously than he otherwise would. -Besides, I must find out, if possible, what has happened -to Stone. Poor Crawford will be on pins and -needles until I can send him some definite word; and -let’s hope the news won’t be too bad. Follansbee certainly -means no good to Stone. He has annexed practically -the whole of the fortune, and that implies some -scheme to get rid of his victim. I’d be afraid that -the worst had happened if I did not feel sure that -Follansbee isn’t the man to make use of any ordinary -means of gaining his ends.”</p> - -<p>The detective hunted up Doctor Follansbee’s private -address in the telephone book and began hasty preparations -for departure. He had already removed his -disguise, and did not consider another. He meant to -go openly in one of his cars and to see if he could -scare the head of St. Swithin’s into returning the -money and dropping all of his schemes against the -partners.</p> - -<p>It was shortly after four o’clock when his machine -stopped in front of the doctor’s house and he strode -up the steps. He was more than half prepared to -find that Follansbee was out, although he had called -up the hospital and learned that the doctor was not -there. On the contrary, however, the servant informed -him that her employer was at home.</p> - -<p>Nick thought best not to give his name, and was -ushered into the reception room as if he had been an -ordinary patient without an appointment. But Follansbee -happened to be at liberty, and in a few moments<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -the servant invited him into the office adjoining -the reception room.</p> - -<p>It was a dark day, and the electric lights were on -in the office. Nick stepped quietly into the room, and -the light fell full upon his face. Follansbee did not -look up at first, but when he became conscious that -his visitor was standing just inside the door, he turned -round to motion him to a seat. As he caught sight -of the detective, he gave a visible start, and the hand -on the desk closed convulsively.</p> - -<p>His cool self-command had deserted him for the -moment when he found himself face to face with the -man who had once thwarted him and threatened to -crush him if he ever broke his parole.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXXVI">CHAPTER XXXVI. -<br /> -<small>SOME PLAIN TRUTHS.</small></h2> - - -<p>Stephen Follansbee’s loss of nerve was only momentary, -however, and, after their looks had met, Nick -quietly closed the door behind him, and, striding forward, -dropped into a chair.</p> - -<p>Follansbee looked at him with half-closed eyes and -tapped on the desk with his long fingers. “This is -an unexpected pleasure, Mr. Carter,” he said, in his -high, thin voice. “Of course I’m always glad to see -such a distinguished visitor as yourself.”</p> - -<p>Nick’s smile was grim. He rated his antagonist’s -recovered coolness and quiet irony at their true value. -Physically, Follansbee was beneath contempt, but Nick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -was well aware that he represented an infinitely more -dangerous type of criminal than any hulking, broad-shouldered -ruffian who ever swaggered through the -world.</p> - -<p>“You did not come to see me on professional business, -I take it?” Follansbee went on, a quiet smile -lifting the corners of his mouth. “You don’t look -as if you needed medical attention.”</p> - -<p>“No, I’m quite well, thank you,” was the calm response. -“I have come to see you concerning a certain -case I have taken up.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed?”</p> - -<p>The doctor’s voice was mildly curious, but there -was a perceptible tightening of his fingers which told -Nick that the man was holding himself in by sheer -force of will.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” the detective continued; “recently I’ve had -cause to play the part of a sort of bodyguard to a -man who has just returned to this country from -South America. His name is Winthrop Crawford.”</p> - -<p>Follansbee’s performance was improving, in spite -of the increasing strain under which he was laboring.</p> - -<p>“That doesn’t sound like a very important task for -one of your abilities,” remarked the physician. -“What were your duties, may I ask?”</p> - -<p>They were fencing with each other—fencing with -the skill of masters—and Nick set himself to his task -with keen zest.</p> - -<p>“I undertook the part of bodyguard to Crawford,” -he explained, “in order that he might be safe from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -the murderous attacks of his former friend and partner, -James Stone.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” Follansbee played with the pen on his desk. -“All this may be very interesting to you,” he said -presently, “but I can’t imagine what it has to do with -me. If you can enlighten me as to that, perhaps I -shall prove a better listener.”</p> - -<p>Nick leaned forward quickly, and his clean-cut face -was grave and hard. “On second thoughts, I suggest -that we throw aside our masks, and go at it face to -face,” he said. “I’m telling you this for the very -good reason that to my personal knowledge you had -a hand in the last fiendish attack which Stone made -on Crawford.”</p> - -<p>Follansbee raised his vulturelike face and shot a -keen glance at the detective.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you’re quite sane,” he said slowly, “although -your statements sound curiously wild. You -deliberately accuse me of having connived with some -man of whose identity I am ignorant, to murder some -one?”</p> - -<p>“I do!” Nick rapped out. “And the reason I accuse -you of it is that I saw you—and heard you—conspiring -with Stone last night in his room at the -Hotel Windermere.”</p> - -<p>“Good Lord!”</p> - -<p>Stephen Follansbee had betrayed himself. His icy -self-command had cracked for a moment, and -through the fissure Nick saw a flicker of fear in the -beady eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Ah! I found a joint in your armor that time, -didn’t I? Shall I tell you what you did at the hotel?”</p> - -<p>But the head of St. Swithin’s held himself once -more with a tight rein. He leaned back in his chair -and folded his arms.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid you misinterpreted my exclamation,” -he said. “It was called out not by guilt, but by -astonishment and concern. My confidence in your -sanity has received a big jolt, Carter. I’ve been -treated to many such flights of the imagination, but -I never expected to find you indulging in them. Professionally, -though, your condition appeals to me, and -I’m tempted to humor you; therefore, go on by all -means, and tell me what I did at the—what hotel did -you say it was?”</p> - -<p>“Cut it out, Follansbee,” the detective advised, -ignoring the question. “You’ve given yourself away, -and it’s a waste of cleverness to try to cover up the -break now. I’ll accept your invitation, though, and -tell you what you did. In the first place, you were -unconventional enough to choose the fire escape as a -means of access to Stone’s room.”</p> - -<p>He did not look into Follansbee’s eyes, but fastened -his gaze on the man’s right temple. The eyes would -have told him nothing, but there was a blue, distended -vein in that temple, and its throbbing was significant.</p> - -<p>“You and your patient—your tool—used a painter’s -ladder to reach the fire escape,” the detective went -on, “and when you had climbed to Stone’s room, on -the second floor, you neglected to remove a little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> -wedge of wood on the sill which prevented the sash -from closing.”</p> - -<p>He leaned farther forward, and his voice was the -voice of a judge. “Thanks to that little oversight, -Follansbee,” he continued, “I was able to hear all -that you said. I heard from your own lips about the -hypodermic syringe, and the character of its contents, -as well as about the drug which you gave to Stone -to——</p> - -<p>“Keep your hands up!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXXVII">CHAPTER XXXVII. -<br /> -<small>FOLLANSBEE REACHES THE LIMIT.</small></h2> - - -<p>The sudden command had been fully justified.</p> - -<p>One of Follansbee’s long, lean hands crept to his -side—the side away from the detective—and had been -extended toward an open drawer in the desk.</p> - -<p>Nick did not wait to see whether his order met -with obedience or not. The words were still on his -lips when he leaped to his feet and flung himself -across the intervening space, grasping the thin, steel-like -wrists of the physician.</p> - -<p>The grip brought Follansbee to his feet, and for -a moment the two faced each other, their eyes flashing. -Perhaps the powerful grip of the detective’s -fingers had warned Follansbee of the uselessness of -a struggle, but the unmasked, flaming rage in his face -revealed the depth of his hatred.</p> - -<p>A quiet smile flitted over the detective’s features.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -He quietly brought Follansbee’s two wrists together, -clasped them both with the fingers of one hand, and -then leaning down, pulled out the open drawer a little -farther.</p> - -<p>As he had anticipated, he found a revolver in it. -This he confiscated and dropped it into his pocket.</p> - -<p>“I’ll take charge of this,” he announced. “All the -same, though, I don’t trust you, and I must ask you -to keep your hands on the desk hereafter. If you -don’t, you may get hurt.”</p> - -<p>With that he released Follansbee and stepped back. -The head of St. Swithin’s glared at him for a few -brief moments, then subsided into his chair again, -and, with a sullen, venomous look, leaned both arms -on the desk.</p> - -<p>“I suppose there’s no use in playing the part any -longer,” he confessed.</p> - -<p>Nick pricked up his ears at this and wondered if -it were possible that Follansbee was about to make -a clean breast of it. The latter’s next words, however, -proved that the hope was groundless.</p> - -<p>“I was at the Windermere last night,” Follansbee -declared coolly, “but not for the reason you think. -James Stone is my patient, and that’s why I consented -to go through with that rather questionable farce. I -can hardly blame you for misinterpreting it, but the -fact remains——”</p> - -<p>“Drop it!” Nick broke in. “I can guess what -you’re going to say. You’re going to tell me that you -were merely ‘humoring’ Stone in an attempt to draw -him out and get to the root of his disease. I suppose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -you think I’m green enough to believe that there -was nothing harmful in that syringe.”</p> - -<p>“Nothing worse than glycerine,” the physician assured -him.</p> - -<p>Nick’s laugh was harsh.</p> - -<p>“You’re a fool, Follansbee,” he declared. “You -think you’re so clever that you can’t make yourself -believe the other fellow has any brains at all.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think a man of my standing would deliberately -lie?”</p> - -<p>The detective might have said that he knew Follansbee -was lying, but he did not choose to do so for -the very good reason that he did not wish the doctor -to learn just then what he had done.</p> - -<p>“Standing hasn’t anything to do with it,” he answered. -“It’s your personality I don’t trust, Follansbee.”</p> - -<p>The physician’s lips curled cynically. “That’s my -misfortune—or yours,” he said. “You played the -spy last night and heard some things which could -easily be twisted. Your interpretation is wide of the -mark, however, and even if it were not, more than -one witness would be required to give any weight to -the evidence. You couldn’t prove anything against -me if you tried, and I’m sure you’re too sensible to -try. I have no personal knowledge of the matter, but -I’ll wager that your friend is perfectly well and sound -to-day. If he isn’t, it’s no fault of mine.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the good of this fencing?” demanded the -detective. “Of course Crawford is all right—so far -as you know. That’s understood, and was provided<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -for in your instructions to your tool. The stuff isn’t -supposed to act at once, and that’s why you chose it. -We’ll come back to that later on. What I want to -make clear now is that I know exactly what you’ve -done and that I also know you have already realized -on your crime.”</p> - -<p>Doctor Follansbee stiffened a little. “Realized on -my crime?” he cried. “What do you mean by that?”</p> - -<p>“Precisely what I say,” Nick answered coolly. “I -happened to make a call early this afternoon at a certain -bank not far from the Hotel Windermere, and -I had a very interesting interview with its cashier. -He showed me three decidedly noteworthy documents—a -note from you, one from James Stone, and last, -but not least, a check signed by Stone, but otherwise -filled in by you. It called for a huge amount, and -had been cashed just before the bank closed.”</p> - -<p>Follansbee’s control was amazing.</p> - -<p>“Well, what of it?” he snarled. “Everything was -regular, wasn’t it? Surely you haven’t any doubt of -the genuineness of Stone’s note? As for the check, -it was for a large sum, I’ll admit, but every one knows -that I exact large fees, and if a patient chooses to -consider my services worth that much, it’s none of -your business.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it? I’m afraid you’re mistaken there, Follansbee. -Picture to yourself what it will mean when -this thing comes out; when the world learns that you -have obtained nearly half a million dollars by swindling -a patient who trusted himself to you, and whose -unsound mind made him an easy victim. How long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> -do you think you will hold your position at the head -of St. Swithin’s? And how many of your rich patients -will employ you again when it is known that -you used disappearing ink to gain your unscrupulous -ends? Ah, I see that gets under your skin!”</p> - -<p>The detective paused for a moment and watched -the discomfited rascal through narrowed lids.</p> - -<p>“I thought at first that Stone had merely signed the -check in blank,” he continued, “which would have implied -a greater mental lack on his part and a lesser -degree of criminality on yours; but now I know better. -I took that check home with me, Follansbee, and examined -it under a microscope. Thanks to that, I discovered -that there had been other writing on it—doubtless -in Stone’s hand. Your trick ink had quite -disappeared, but the point of the pen had slightly -scratched the surface of the paper; and, moreover, -the application of a chemical on one or two spots -revealed traces of the ink originally used. As soon -as the bank gives me permission to do so, I shall apply -that chemical—you can doubtless guess what it is—to -the whole check, and thereby bring out the original -writing once more. And when I do so, I’m sure I -shall find that, as Stone made it out, the check originally -called for a much smaller sum. Doubtless you -found some excuse to change inks when it came to -the signature, with the result that it alone was written -with ordinary ink. What do you say to that?”</p> - -<p>Apparently Follansbee had nothing to say. His -hands were clenched on his desk and he was biting -his under lip and glaring fearfully at the detective.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -Nick returned look for look and allowed his glance -to play over the surface of the desk. As it did so, -it fell upon a letter which Follansbee had been writing -before his visitor’s entrance. The doctor’s name -and address were engraved in the upper left-hand -corner, and the ink in which the beginning of the letter -was written was of the same shade as that used on -the three documents which the detective had obtained -at the bank.</p> - -<p>“That reminds me,” said Nick, looking from the -unfinished letter to the open ink bottle.</p> - -<p>He paused, and then with a swift movement thrust -his hand out, picked up the bottle, corked it, and -started to drop it into his pocket.</p> - -<p>“This will be one more link in the chain—your -chain,” he announced.</p> - -<p>Snarling like a wild beast, and with an agility for -which Nick had not given him credit, Follansbee shot -out of his chair and hurled himself upon the detective.</p> - -<p>In the brief tussle which followed, the tables were -turned, despite the detective’s greater bulk and -strength.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXXVIII">CHAPTER XXXVIII. -<br /> -<small>NICK IS BALKED.</small></h2> - - -<p>One of the little physician’s hands shot out and -caught at the ink bottle which the detective was about -to pocket, and as they reeled across the room together, -the rascal lowered his head unexpectedly and set his -sharp teeth into Nick Carter’s hand.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was the trick of an animal rather than of a -human being, and it took the detective completely by -surprise.</p> - -<p>Involuntarily Nick released his hold on the bottle, -and it fell to the floor. The fall did not break it, -however, and Follansbee was obliged to kick it into -the fireplace, where it struck against one of the massive -andirons and was shattered, its contents mixing -with the ashes.</p> - -<p>With a swift movement Nick released himself from -his clinging antagonist, and sent him spinning after -the broken bottle. The doctor recovered his balance, -gasping for breath, and the two faced each other -silently for a few moments.</p> - -<p>“Well,” Follansbee said presently, panting, “you -didn’t connect with that bit of evidence after all, did -you?”</p> - -<p>The detective shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“True,” he admitted. “I knew I was dealing with -a cur, but I forgot that you weren’t muzzled. You -needn’t pride yourself on your victory, however; the -ink would have been a little further evidence against -you, but I can very easily get along without it. But -I didn’t come here to bandy words with you, or to -fight with mad dogs. I came to find out where your -latest victim is—Stone, I mean; and I’d advise you -not to put any more obstacles in my way.”</p> - -<p>“What do I know about Stone?”</p> - -<p>“That’s what I want you to tell me. I heard you -arrange to wait for him outside the bank, and I saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -you leave the hotel for that performance. He hasn’t -been back since, and the hotel people are beginning -to worry about it. It is up to you to do a little explaining, -if you don’t want to be accused of another -crime.”</p> - -<p>“I know nothing about it,” the rascal insisted. -“Stone came back here, it’s true. I brought him in -my car, and he was here for some little time. It must -have been something after three o’clock when he left, -intending to walk back to the hotel. That’s the last -I saw of him.”</p> - -<p>He spoke with the utmost assurance, and unfortunately -Nick was not able to contradict him. The -detective realized with a sinking of the heart that, in -spite of Follansbee’s telltale flareups and partial or -implied confessions, the man intended to fight doggedly -every step of the way.</p> - -<p>For a moment he was at a loss to know how to -proceed, and the Buzzard, seeing his hesitation, took -advantage of that fact.</p> - -<p>“That’s all I have to tell you,” Follansbee went -on triumphantly. “Make as much—or as little—of -it as you can. Let me remind you of something else, -too. Any charge you may try to bring against me -will involve Stone and give a lot of undesirable publicity -to his mental condition. It will involve you, -too, for if he’s as dangerous as you claim he is, the -newspapers and the public will ask why you allowed -him to go about of his own free will, to live unmolested -at a hotel, and all the rest of it. More than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -that, the revelations that will inevitably follow will -make your friend Crawford very sore. He has stuck -to Stone, I understand, through thick and thin. I -don’t pretend to say what his motives have been, but -I know enough to be sure that he won’t welcome the -limelight when it’s thrown upon them.”</p> - -<p>Nick was amazed at the man’s cleverness in making -use of such an argument. He had felt himself -hampered at every turn by the peculiar circumstances -which surrounded the case, and especially by Crawford’s -insistance that no punishment be visited upon -his old partner. It had seemed to the detective, however, -when he discovered the way in which Follansbee -had juggled with the check, that he had the -scoundrel where he wanted him, but now he was beginning -to doubt even that. At any rate, he did not -feel justified in having Follansbee arrested at once. -He needed to know what had become of Stone before -doing that, and it was desirable to have another conference -with Crawford in order to see how far the -latter was willing for him to go.</p> - -<p>All of which meant that he was unprepared in -many ways for the situation which had developed. -It went decidedly against the grain, after having carried -things so far, to be obliged to indulge only in -empty words, and finally to walk out of Follansbee’s -house empty-handed. Yet that seemed to be what he -was destined to do. Had he known what Patsy Garvan -knew, he could have turned the tables very neatly, -and might have brought Follansbee to time, but he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -did not have an inkling that his assistant’s eagerness -to see him had had any bearing on the case in hand.</p> - -<p>“You refuse, then, to tell me where James Stone -is?” he asked, harking back to his errand.</p> - -<p>“I have told you all I know,” the head of St. Swithin’s -declared sullenly. “I’m not running an insane -asylum.”</p> - -<p>“And you’re going to keep his fortune? You don’t -think it wise to make restitution, and thereby lighten -your punishment?”</p> - -<p>“I shall certainly not part with the money,” was -the answer. “I have earned it, or will earn it before -I get through. If I’m let alone, James Stone will -not be crazy when I have finished with him. As for -any little irregularities there may have been about the -transaction, that’s a matter for Stone and Crawford -to decide. It isn’t any of your business or the public’s, -and if you’re wise you won’t try to take any -steps against me.”</p> - -<p>He was still standing before the fireplace, and perceptibly -trembling with rage. He clenched his hands -now and bared his teeth.</p> - -<p>“Have a care, Nicholas Carter,” he went on shrilly. -“I’m not the sort of man to allow another to cross -my path with impunity. It would be far better for -you to retire from this case right now, and leave -matters as they stand. If you become a menace to -me, I swear I’ll sweep you out of my way.” Here he -passed his long, lean hand around, as though brushing -away some object. “Let me tell you,” he added, -“that I’m a dangerous man to have for an enemy.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Your threats haven’t any weight with me, Follansbee,” -the detective answered quietly. “I’ve devoted -my life to handling such blackguards as you. You’re -clever, but you’re not clever enough; no scamp is. -The evil he does trips him up sooner or later. I tell -you here and now that you will not enjoy one penny -of that money, no matter what happens. You may -spend some of it, but you’ll be looking for a thunderbolt -all the time.”</p> - -<p>As he spoke, he half turned and approached the -door. He took good care, however, to keep one eye -on the physician, for he knew that at that moment -Follansbee was ready for anything.</p> - -<p>“I’ve given you your chance,” the detective said, as -he laid his hand on the knob, “and you haven’t seen -fit to take it. I can find Stone without aid, and when -I do, you’ll discover that you’ve made a bad bargain. -Good afternoon.”</p> - -<p>The door closed behind the lithe figure, and Follansbee -just for a moment allowed his stiff attitude -to relax. It seemed as though the lean body shrank, -that his clothes suddenly became too large for him. -There was a curious mummylike expression about -his sharp features as he leaned against the mantel.</p> - -<p>“How much does he know?” he muttered to himself. -“By heavens, it was well that I got rid of Stone -when I did. I defy him to find out where he is -now.”</p> - -<p>A sudden gust of anger swept over him, and he -reeled toward the door, shaking his fists. “I defy -you! I defy you!” he shrieked, in his thin voice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> -“Look out for yourself, Nick Carter! Men have -died for less than you have done.”</p> - -<p>There was an unholy meaning in his voice, and -the face looked fiendish in its menace. At that moment -Stephen Follansbee looked what he was—an insatiable -bird of prey. “Only let me get you into my -power,” he continued, “and nothing in the world will -save you!”</p> - -<p>Nick Carter had made another enemy; one whose -scientific resources and unusual shrewdness might have -daunted almost any one, when coupled, as they were, -with the maddening thirst for revenge which shook -him at that moment.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XXXIX">CHAPTER XXXIX. -<br /> -<small>PATSY TRACES THE AMBULANCE.</small></h2> - - -<p>There is always a certain element of luck in one’s -experiences, and chance ordained it that Patsy Garvan -should arrive in front of St. Swithin’s Hospital -at just the right moment. His anxiety had sent him -in that direction after his repeated failures to reach -his chief, but he had no very definite idea in view.</p> - -<p>He had driven the little runabout to Amsterdam -Avenue partly to kill time during his chief’s absence -from the hotel. Having left the car around the corner, -he had approached the hospital on foot. When -he came near the big entrance, he noticed an ambulance—evidently -a private one, for there was no lettering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -on it—drawn up at the curb with a circle -of the curious loitering about it. Evidently some -patient was to be taken away in the ambulance; perhaps -a convalescent. Patsy mingled with the crowd, -but before he had time to make any inquiries, a couple -of hospital attendants appeared, half carrying, half -supporting a tall man.</p> - -<p>One glance at the face was sufficient for Patsy. Despite -the intense pallor which lay under the tan, he -recognized it at once as being that of James Stone, -whom he had previously taken pains to identify. The -miner was fully dressed, but his eyes were sunken, -and every line of his naturally powerful frame bespoke -weakness and listlessness. The two attendants, -although they were supporting Stone, were allowing -him to make use of his lower limbs, and the mine -owner was able to walk unsteadily toward the ambulance.</p> - -<p>Nick’s assistant looked about and into the wide hallway, -but could see no signs of Doctor Follansbee. A -dapper-looking interne in a white uniform was superintending -the removal. When Stone had been -placed in the vehicle, a stout, matronly looking nurse -in uniform came out of the hospital and entered the -waiting ambulance. Immediately the vehicle, a motor -one, started quietly and shot ahead down the -street.</p> - -<p>Patsy bitterly regretted that he had left his runabout. -If he had brought it to the front of the hospital -he could have followed the ambulance, but as it -was there was no hope of that. The ambulance was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -already a block away, and going at a high rate of speed, -and there was no other available vehicle within reach.</p> - -<p>“Confound it,” thought the young detective. “Why -didn’t it have a sign on it? If it had I would have -known where to look for Stone.”</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, he did know where to look, -although indirectly. He had to have something to -worry about, however, for this succession of anticipated -developments was getting on his nerves, and -he felt very much aggrieved because he had been unable -to share the knowledge of them with any one else. -He had taken the precaution of fixing the license -number of the ambulance in his memory before it -had been whisked away, and he knew that all he -had to do—unless the number was a false one—was -to get into communication with the license bureau.</p> - -<p>He chose to follow that line rather than to question -the young interne, since the latter course might -have aroused suspicion, and his questions might be -reported to Follansbee. It involved some delay, but -that could hardly be avoided, and the sight of Stone, -though weak and ill, had reassured Patsy somewhat. -At any rate, he knew now that the man was not dead, -and there seemed to be no reason to believe that a -few hours’ further delay, if it came to that, would -have very serious consequences.</p> - -<p>Apparently Doctor Follansbee was playing an unusual -game, and one that could not be brought to a -conclusion at once. Patsy had no doubt that the head -of St. Swithin’s had planned this move from the beginning. -Stone had probably been taken to the big<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -hospital the night before merely as a temporary expedient, -and to lend an appearance of regularity to -the proceedings. Now he was being removed to some -place where Follansbee would find himself less hampered -in his dealings with him.</p> - -<p>The crowd had quickly melted away, and the young -interne and the hospital attendants had reëntered the -big building while Patsy stood staring after the vanishing -ambulance. Now he strode away and returned -to his own car. Entering it, he drove a few blocks -and stopped in front of a telephone pay station. After -a little delay he obtained the number of the license -bureau, and asked for the name of the institution -owning the designated machine.</p> - -<p>It was two or three minutes before he received a -reply, but when it came, it told him all that he needed -to know for the time being.</p> - -<p>“Nineteen-nineteen license, number five hundred -and fifty thousand, three hundred and thirteen, New -York, is issued in the name of Miss Worth’s Private -Hospital for Convalescents, fifteen thousand Flatbush -Avenue, Brooklyn,” he was told.</p> - -<p>Patsy thanked his informant, to whom he had been -obliged to give his name in order to obtain the desired -information. When he had reached the street again -he paused before entering the runabout.</p> - -<p>“Now, it’s up to me to make another stab at an -interview with the chief,” he thought. “If I don’t -catch him this time, I’ll begin to think I’m the victim -of a jinx.”</p> - -<p>He entered the little car and headed back to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -Hotel Windermere. There he received another slap. -Nick had been in and left, but the clerk questioned -Patsy as the detective had suggested, and satisfied -himself of his identity. The young assistant learned -in this way that his chief had revealed himself to the -clerk, and had left word that he was going back home.</p> - -<p>He swallowed his disappointment as best he could, -and felt sure that the trail must be nearing its end. -He had no doubt that he would find his chief when he -reached the house.</p> - -<p>But Fate took the next trick away from him also.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XL">CHAPTER XL. -<br /> -<small>THE PRIVATE HOSPITAL.</small></h2> - - -<p>In his eagerness to reach the detective’s headquarters, -Patsy drove the runabout rather recklessly -at a time when the streets were full of traffic. As a -result, his machine was struck by a street car, and he -was thrown out against the curbstone. He was rendered -unconscious and removed to the hospital, where, -owing to the fact that he was in disguise, his identity -was not discovered.</p> - -<p>When he came to, he felt decidedly groggy at first, -but insisted on dressing and leaving the hospital. -After he had given his name, he was allowed to go -under protest, and a taxi was sent for.</p> - -<p>The hired machine took him home in record time, -but when he arrived there, the chief had once more -flown. To be sure, he had left word that he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> -going to Doctor Follansbee’s, but that only added to -Patsy’s troubles.</p> - -<p>On the one side, the young assistant felt it to be his -duty to follow his chief immediately and reveal what -he had learned, in the hope that his information would -clinch the case against the doctor, and leave the latter -no loophole or escape. On the other hand, however, -he found himself hesitating and undecided. He did -not know why his chief had gone to the physician’s -house, and was afraid to spoil Nick’s plans in some -way. The detective might be working under cover -in such a way that Patsy’s coming would ruin everything. -Anyway, even at best, it would be decidedly -awkward for him to break in on an interview without -previously preparing his superior for his revelations, -or finding out if they would be welcome at that time.</p> - -<p>If he only could have caught his chief before the -latter had left, all would have been well, but as it was, -Nick might already have left Follansbee’s, and Patsy’s -inquiries for him might alarm the physician and lead -to further complications.</p> - -<p>“This is certainly my unlucky day,” Nick’s assistant -complained inwardly. “What the dickens am -I to do now? I could sit here and twiddle my thumbs, -of course, while waiting for the chief to show up, -but every time I get busy, I seem to learn something -more of importance—something that the chief isn’t -wise to. I think, therefore, I’ll have another try at -the same game.”</p> - -<p>He was already feeling much better, and a bath -and a change of clothing left few traces of his recent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -accident. Before leaving the house, he scribbled a -brief note to his chief and left it with the housekeeper. -It read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Chief</span>: I have been having a mischief of -a time trying to locate you. I am bursting with information -about Stone and Follansbee, but have decided -not to run the risk of spoiling your play by -following you to the latter’s house. Stone has been -removed from St. Swithin’s Hospital to Miss Worth’s -private hospital for convalescents, on Flatbush Avenue. -I saw him when he was put into the ambulance. -He looked considerably the worse for wear, -but was walking—with assistance. I’m going over -to Brooklyn now to murder a little more time while -waiting for you. For the love of Mike stay put this -time until I can get back!</p> - -<p class="signature">P.G.”</p> -</div> - -<p>Young Garvan had already put one car out of commission -that day, and did not know where it was, -although he assumed that it was in the hands of the -police—if there was anything left of it. That was -only an incident in the day’s work, however, and he -promptly sent for another of the detective’s machines.</p> - -<p>In it he hurried downtown across the Manhattan -Bridge, and sped up Flatbush Avenue. He had -learned so much that he hoped to pick up some more -information. Nick might know something about -Miss Worth’s hospital, but he did not, and he wished -to supply that deficiency if he could. This time he -had brought the detective’s chauffeur along with him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -and he remained with the car when Patsy left it a -block or two from his destination.</p> - -<p>It was an easy matter to find the private hospital, -although the small brass plate affixed to one of the -big gate posts was the only outward evidence that -the building was more than a private residence. It -was a large, old-fashioned house, with broad verandas, -standing some distance back from the street, in the -midst of extensive grounds. A driveway led up to -the spacious entrance, and in this drive, just in front -of the door, stood a handsome motor vehicle. -Patsy’s experiences of the night before had familiarized -with just such a car, and his nerves tingled as he -caught sight of it.</p> - -<p>“Follansbee’s own machine, as I’m a living sinner,” -he thought, with a start. “The last time I saw that -was when the doctor brought Stone home with him in -the small hours of the morning. This is interesting, -to say the least. That rascal hasn’t lost much time -before paying a visit to his ‘patient’ in the latter’s surroundings.”</p> - -<p>The sight of the car changed his plans. He had -intended to pay a visit to the private hospital at once, -but now he decided to delay until Follansbee had left.</p> - -<p>He strolled up and down the block for perhaps ten -minutes, and at the end of that time his patience was -rewarded. He saw the diminutive, sinister form of -Stephen Follansbee emerge from Miss Worth’s and -vanish into the vehicle, which promptly wheeled and -made its way back to the city. When it had gone, -Patsy sauntered slowly along the pavement, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -paused for a moment in front of the gate. He was -anxious to find out what kind of a place it was; and -at last, putting on a bold front, he entered the grounds, -strode up the walk, and rang the bell.</p> - -<p>A neat-looking maid opened the door to him, and -he was led into a quiet waiting room.</p> - -<p>Patsy always had a story ready to fit the occasion, -and it was generally the most plausible sort; consequently, -he was quite prepared for the advent of Miss -Worth herself, who proved to be a kindly-faced -woman of middle age, gray-haired and stately.</p> - -<p>He informed the lady that a friend of his was convalescent -after a fever, but that certain unavoidable -noises in the neighborhood made him nervous, and it -seemed best to remove him to a more quiet place. -Patsy, it appeared, had taken upon himself to hunt -up such a place, and, having been told of Miss Worth’s, -had called to inquire as to the charges.</p> - -<p>His well-cut suit and his ingratiating manner had -their effect. After giving him the information he -asked for, Miss Worth volunteered to show him over -the building, and Patsy spent fifteen minutes in going -through the wards. It was soon obvious to him that -the private hospital was a perfectly respectable place, -and the well-bred face of Miss Worth herself justified -the opinion that she could have nothing in common -with the scoundrelly side of Stephen Follansbee.</p> - -<p>Presently the lady paused in front of a door and -opened it.</p> - -<p>“There’s a new guest here,” she said: “a poor fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -who is recovering from the effects of the drug -habit.”</p> - -<p>Patsy glanced into the room and noted that there -were two beds in it. The one on the right was unoccupied, -but in the left one lay the figure of James -Stone. The ex-miner’s eyes were closed, and his -hands stretched out on top of the coverlet were painfully -clenched.</p> - -<p>“Our distinguished consultant, Doctor Stephen Follansbee, -of St. Swithin’s Hospital, has made a special -study of that type of case,” Miss Worth went on, -as she closed the door. “The patient will soon recover, -and meanwhile your friend could have that -other bed. It happens to be the only one available -just now.”</p> - -<p>“What luck!” thought Patsy. “It’s a good thing -I took it into my head to come over here. I hope the -chief will appreciate all I’ve done. Hanged if I can -see how he thought he could handle this case alone.”</p> - -<p>Assuring Miss Worth that he would let her know -as soon as possible of his friend’s decision, he left -the building. He was on tenterhooks now to pour -out the whole story to his chief, and as soon as he -was out of sight from the hospital windows, he hurried -to the waiting car.</p> - -<p>“Start something!” he urged the chauffeur. “Open -her up and let’s see you burn up a little asphalt.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XLI">CHAPTER XLI. -<br /> -<small>NICK HAS A PLAN.</small></h2> - - -<p>Darkness had descended when Patsy sprang up the -steps of Nick Carter’s house. He eagerly inquired -for his chief, and learned, to his delight, that he had -returned and was in his study. The young assistant -fairly sprinted up the stairs, and burst into the room.</p> - -<p>“Well!” he ejaculated. “I began to think I’d never -see you again.”</p> - -<p>“I usually bob up sooner or later,” was the answer. -“What’s all this you’ve been up to? How did you -break into this game, I’d like to know?”</p> - -<p>“That’s just what I did—I broke in,” was the answer. -“Chick put me up to it. He was itching to have -a hand in the affair, and had a hunch that somebody -ought to keep an eye on Follansbee. He couldn’t -do it himself, because you had left him in charge -of affairs, and so I’ve been losing my beauty sleep—and -most of the rest—for several nights. Nothing -happened until last night, but since then things -have been coming so thick and fast that they’ve taken -my breath away.”</p> - -<p>Nick tried to look stern. “You don’t seem to -realize that this is a breach of discipline,” he commented.</p> - -<p>“Now, chief, don’t be nasty about it,” Patsy -pleaded. “Let me get this out of my system. My -private information is that you couldn’t have done<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -without me, and when I get through, I think you’ll -agree that I haven’t wasted my time.”</p> - -<p>The detective smiled slightly. “Go ahead and let’s -hear it,” he said. “You usually get your way in the -end.”</p> - -<p>After some little beating around, young Garvan -launched into an account of his adventures from the -time Follansbee and Stone had arrived at the former’s -house, until the last glimpse of the miner had been -obtained at the private hospital. The look of interest -and satisfaction which came into the great detective’s -face assured Patsy that he was pardoned.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, the assistant’s report, coupled -with what Nick had learned for himself, brought the -whole case to a focus, and made plain much that had -seemed obscure.</p> - -<p>“By George, my boy,” the chief commented at the -end of the recital, “you certainly have turned a trick -or two, and I wish I had known something about it -before I bearded Follansbee in his den. If I had, -it would have put a very different face on that interview. -I was all up in the air about Stone, but now -everything is clear enough and——”</p> - -<p>“Then you’re better off than I am, chief,” his assistant -interrupted, “for I can’t make head or tail of -it. I thought it was Crawford that that scoundrel -Follansbee was plotting against, but it can hardly be -doubted that Stone is his victim—or one of them, at -least.”</p> - -<p>“I will give you a little information to complete -the exchange,” was the answer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> - -<p>In a few brief sentences the detective gave Patsy -his side of the story, and the young man’s eyes fairly -flashed as he heard the grim details of the attempt on -Winthrop Crawford’s life.</p> - -<p>“What a fiend that man Follansbee is!” Patsy exclaimed -at the end. “Thank Heaven you were on -hand to ditch his scheme. But what do you make of -it now? What do you think Follansbee is up to in -connection with Stone?”</p> - -<p>“I can’t say offhand,” was the reply. “Not a little -remains to be seen. I had thought that Stone might -be in hiding somewhere, suffering from a guilty conscience; -but, on the whole, I was inclined to believe -that Follansbee had drawn him into the net. Your -revelations leave no doubt of that, and seem to indicate -that we have time enough to save Stone. He -needs saving, though, that’s certain. So far as I can -tell, Follansbee still believes that Stone injected the -serum given him for that purpose, and that Crawford -is doomed. I was skating on thin ice this afternoon -in my interview with the fellow. I didn’t want him -to know that I had thwarted him, but I looked for -him to guess it.</p> - -<p>“He ought to have realized at once that, after I had -heard his conversation with Stone, I wouldn’t have -stood by and allowed the latter to make the injection, -knowing as I do what it would have meant. Evidently, -however, he thinks I didn’t interfere. He -has Stone’s word for it, of course, that the hypodermic -was used as directed.”</p> - -<p>“That must be it,” agreed Patsy. “You were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -speaking of Follansbee’s attitude toward Stone, -though, and the urgent need of interference.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly. I was going to say that since the rascal -apparently thinks the injection was made as planned, -he’s convinced he has a strangle hold on Stone. He’s -cleaned out the latter’s fortune, and can keep him -cowed by drugs and threats. That may be what he -plans to do for the present, in anticipation of Crawford’s -death. Stone, as I told you, is named as the -chief beneficiary in Crawford’s will, and if Follansbee -could keep Stone alive and in his power until -Crawford passes out, there would be another half a -million or so to angle for.”</p> - -<p>“Great Scott! You mean that Follansbee intends -to wait until Stone becomes Crawford’s legal heir, -and then plans to swindle Stone out of Crawford’s -fortune, as well as the poor devil’s own?”</p> - -<p>“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least; and when -that was accomplished, there wouldn’t be any doubt -about the next step. Stone would surely die in turn, -but in such a way that no one could prove anything -suspicious about his death.”</p> - -<p>Patsy whistled softly. “It’s a large order,” he -remarked; “but that check for four hundred and -fifty thousand shows that Follansbee is capable of -thinking in big numbers. You’re probably right, -therefore; but there’s something about it that beats -me.”</p> - -<p>“What’s that?”</p> - -<p>“I can’t understand how Follansbee would dare to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> -go so far. It might be impossible to prove anything, -but the very fact that Stone had been a patient of his, -and that he had realized a huge sum through the association -would look pretty bad on the face of it; -wouldn’t it? It might not bring conviction, but it -could hardly fail to be the means of severing Follansbee -from his job as the head of St. Swithin’s, and of -cutting off his practice. More than that, though, -he’s aware that you know what he’s up to, and that -you’re right after him. I can’t conceive of his going -on with it under the circumstances.”</p> - -<p>Nick smiled grimly. “Follansbee is an extraordinary -man,” he answered. “As you say, he already -knows that I have a lot of dangerous evidence against -him. That very thing, though, may drive him on to -fresh crimes, on the theory that he might as well be -killed for a sheep as a lamb. If he thinks Crawford -is doomed—as he evidently does—another life is of -no consequence. I suspect that he really counts on -getting rid of me. He implied as much this afternoon. -If he tries that, though, he’ll have his hands -full, shrewd as he is.”</p> - -<p>Nick got up suddenly. “Enough of this,” he said. -“We might keep on theorizing all night, but I prefer -action.”</p> - -<p>“What are you going to do?”</p> - -<p>“I’m going to try to sound Stone, if possible, and -that’s where you’ll come in.” He nodded to his assistant. -“I’m going to make use of that nice little -introduction you prepared for me at Miss Worth’s,” -he added significantly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> - -<p>Patsy was on his feet at once. “You don’t mean -to say——” he began.</p> - -<p>Nick smiled. “Precisely,” he replied. “I’m going -to occupy that bed next to Stone. I’ll be your convalescent -friend.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XLII">CHAPTER XLII. -<br /> -<small>THE DETECTIVE ACQUIRES A WIFE.</small></h2> - - -<p>“Now, then, my boy,” the detective went on, pointing -to the telephone on his desk, “you’ll oblige me by -calling up Miss Worth and telling her that your friend -has agreed to place himself in her hands. Say that -he’ll arrive there about half past nine to-night.”</p> - -<p>Patsy eyed his chief doubtfully. “It’s a risky business,” -he warned him. “You’ll have to stay there for -some time to keep up the bluff, and Follansbee will -probably visit Stone to-morrow. If the scoundrel -should recognize you——”</p> - -<p>“I’ll take that risk,” Nick put in; “but I don’t think -he will. If I can’t make use of a disguise that will -deceive him, I ought to go out of the business. It’s -settled, anyway. I want you to accompany me to -Miss Worth’s and see me safely deposited.”</p> - -<p>“How long do you expect to stay there?”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t the slightest idea. That will depend on -circumstances. Perhaps I can get away after a day, -but it may be a week, for all I know.” And he left -the room.</p> - -<p>Patsy nodded after the lithe, upright figure. “I’ll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> -give you twenty-four hours, chief,” he said to himself; -“and if you’re not out of that place by that time, -I’ll be hanged if I don’t come and get you.”</p> - -<p>He turned to the desk, and, after consulting the -telephone book, found the number of Miss Worth’s -private hospital.</p> - -<p>“Number two bed in Ward E will be reserved for -your friend, Mr. Bainbridge,” Miss Worth informed -him over the wire. Gerald Bainbridge was the name -Patsy had given to Nick on the spur of the moment.</p> - -<p>About nine o’clock that evening young Garvan, who -was fidgeting about in the study, heard the door open -softly. Some one entered the room. He knew that -it was his chief, but he was forced to think that the -disguise was one of the most successful Nick had -ever attempted. He had dressed himself in a suit -that was a size or two too large for him. The garments -hung loosely on him, he stooped slightly, and -it seemed as though his shoulders were much thinner -and narrower than was actually the case. His cheeks -looked hollow and his eyes had dark rings around -them that seemed to indicate a weakened frame and -long hours on a sick bed. A straggling beard, badly -in need of trimming, covered his cheeks and chin. -It was by no means an ordinary false one, but one -of Nick’s own invention—of the kind used by him -when the occasion called for extraordinary care -against detection.</p> - -<p>He knew that he would be in charge of a nurse, -and that a commonplace disguise would not stand the -close inspection he would be obliged to undergo. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -would have taken a Nick Carter himself, however, to -discover that that beard was artificial. It had been -put on with a great deal of care, and the thin substance -into which the hairs were embedded so closely -resembled the human skin in hue and texture that it -was almost impossible to tell where one began and -the other left off. Ordinary washing would not effect -it in the least, and yet it could be removed in fifteen -minutes’ time—if one knew how. It was the same -with the wig.</p> - -<p>He was leaning heavily on a stout walking stick, -and caught the look of admiration in Patsy’s eyes.</p> - -<p>“Well, will I do?” he asked.</p> - -<p>His assistant drew a deep breath. “You’re the -real thing,” was the enthusiastic comment. “I never -saw you turn out anything better than that.”</p> - -<p>A moment later Ida Jones, Nick’s beautiful woman -assistant, entered the room. She, too, was to play a -part in the sketch that had been so hastily staged. -Nick waved one trembling hand toward her.</p> - -<p>“For an old friend, my boy, you don’t seem to be -on your job. Is it possible you don’t recognize ‘Mrs. -Bainbridge?’”</p> - -<p>Patsy looked bewildered for a moment, and then -broke into a grin. “Mrs. Bainbridge, eh?” he queried. -“So you’ve taken a wife for the occasion, have you? -Is she going with us?”</p> - -<p>“Of course. She’s devoted to her husband, and -it wouldn’t do, you know, for you to take me there -alone. We’ll have to have a woman along to fuss -over me and make the thing seem real.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> - -<p>The young assistant’s grin broadened. “Well, I -must say I admire your taste,” he remarked, with a -wink. “I could have told you long ago that Ida is -just the girl for you.”</p> - -<p>Miss Jones laughed. “None of that, Patsy,” she -said laughingly. “If the chief ever comes to think -of me as a girl, he’ll fire me as sure as fate.”</p> - -<p>Nick looked at her admiringly. “I’m not quite as -bad as that, Ida,” he said. “Give me credit, please, -for knowing that you’re a girl, and a remarkably attractive -one. But you’re a corking good detective, -also, and I’m afraid that interests me more. No -more nonsense now, you two. It’s time to go.”</p> - -<p>A couple of travel-worn suit cases had been provided -and packed. Catching these up, Patsy went off -down the stairs, followed by Nick and the girl.</p> - -<p>About half an hour later their machine—a hired -taxi—halted at Miss Worth’s steps. Patsy and the -girl jumped out and solicitously helped their companion -to alight, while the chauffeur rang the bell. Miss -Worth herself followed the servant to the door, and -all concerned played their parts to perfection. Patsy -was a rather officious, but tender-hearted friend. -Ida Jones made a beautiful and devoted wife, while -Nick assumed a querulous voice and a crotchety manner -which went well with his apparent weakness.</p> - -<p>“I don’t want any nurses fussing about me, except -when it is absolutely necessary,” he declared. “I’ve -had quite enough of nurses. I want just a quiet, -peaceful time, you understand?”</p> - -<p>Miss Worth assured him that he would have no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -cause to complain of overattention, and gave Mrs. -Bainbridge a reassuring look behind his back.</p> - -<p>Patsy was having all he could do to keep a straight -face, and, indeed, when the others had left the reception -room, he felt obliged to relax and indulge in a -hearty, though silent, laugh. In a moment he became -serious enough, however, when he remembered -Follansbee’s threats and the defenseless position in -which his chief was placing himself.</p> - -<p>Ida Jones had, of course, accompanied her “husband” -to the room which he was to occupy. She had -declared that she must see it, in order to be sure that -he would be comfortable. Five minutes later, however, -she returned to the waiting room, still escorted -by Miss Worth, and, after leaving many parting injunctions, -she accompanied Patsy out of the house.</p> - -<p>“When the taxi starts, you must applaud, Patsy,” -she whispered, as they crossed the veranda. “I flatter -myself that I did that fairly well.”</p> - -<p>“You certainly did,” he answered. “You could -give points to most wives—except mine.”</p> - -<p>He was thinking of something else though—of -Stephen Follansbee’s diabolical cleverness.</p> - -<p>“Twenty-four hours is the most I’ll allow the chief,” -he said, repeating his resolve. “If he isn’t out by -that time—unless I know everything is all right—I’m -going to stick a finger into the pie once more.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XLIII">CHAPTER XLIII. -<br /> -<small>THE HYPNOTIC SPELL.</small></h2> - - -<p>“That fiend is slowly killing him!” It was Sunday -evening, just after eight o’clock, and the little -ward in which Nick Carter found himself was deserted -save for its two inmates. On his bed lay -James Stone, motionless and mute, just as he had lain -there all through the day. Over him bent Nick, and -there was a pitying look in the detective’s eyes as they -rested on the white face.</p> - -<p>Dropping his hand gently on Stone’s eyelids, he -lifted them and looked at the set, fixed pupils. They -were small, almost the size of pin heads.</p> - -<p>“There isn’t the slightest doubt about it,” the detective -decided, “this man is under some powerful narcotic, -which means that Follansbee has his own reasons -for keeping him thus. I’d give a good deal to -know just what is at the bottom of it, but, after all, -it doesn’t greatly matter. I know that Follansbee -means no good, and I’m here to see that he fails; that’s -the important thing.”</p> - -<p>During the day Nick had kept to his room, and the -nurse, a gentle little woman, had decided that he was -a model patient. He had, however, ventured to make -a few inquiries about the inanimate man in the next -bed, and the nurse had given him several details.</p> - -<p>“He came from St. Swithin’s,” she said. “Doctor -Follansbee—the head there you know—is looking -after him, so he must consider it a very important<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -case. The doctor says that he doesn’t expect the patient -to awaken for at least another twenty-four hours. -He’s in an unusual sort of coma.”</p> - -<p>There was nothing to be gained by revealing his -suspicions to the nurse; therefore Nick kept his peace. -He knew, however, that Follansbee would have to -return again to see the man, and it was for that visit -he was waiting—waiting with an impatience which -proved the hold the case had upon him.</p> - -<p>Another hour passed before Stephen Follansbee’s -voice warned him that the long-looked-for moment -had arrived. The detective had been sitting up much -of the time, but at the sound he stripped off his bath -robe and jumped into bed, the nurse being absent. -In a few seconds the covers were pulled up to his -chin and his face was turned to the wall.</p> - -<p>It would have taken a clever observer to notice that -on the wall, almost level with his head, hung a small -mirror. It had been tilted at such an angle that the -detective, although he had his back to the bed occupied -by Stone, could see everything that happened there.</p> - -<p>The door opened, and he heard a soft footfall. He -lay quite still, breathing easily and regularly.</p> - -<p>There was only one light in the room, a shaded bulb, -which was suspended above a small table that stood -close to Stone’s bed. The rest of the little ward was -in semidarkness.</p> - -<p>“Another patient?”</p> - -<p>The detective recognized an undercurrent of disagreeable -surprise, if not of anger, in Follansbee’s -voice.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> - -<p>Miss Worth had accompanied the physician into -the room. “Yes, a typhoid convalescent,” she answered, -in a low voice. “He came last night, and -there was no other place to put him. He seems to -be asleep now.”</p> - -<p>Nick could hear Follansbee’s footfalls as the latter -came across the room and halted by the side of the -bed. The hawklike face bent over him and the beady -eyes searched his features for a few moments.</p> - -<p>The pains which Nick had taken in his disguise -justified themselves, however, and Follansbee presently -straightened up.</p> - -<p>“Very well, Miss Worth,” he said, turning to the -matron, “you need not wait. If I want the nurse I -shall call her.”</p> - -<p>The woman left the ward. Nick heard the door -close softly behind her, and then he cautiously opened -his eyes a little and glanced up at the tilted mirror. -It caught the glow from the electric bulb, and he could -see every movement that the doctor made—could even -mark the sinister expression on Follansbee’s face. -The head of St. Swithin’s had been carrying a little -bag, and this he placed on the table, bringing out -various articles and placing them in readiness. Then, -from the inside pocket, the scientific criminal withdrew -a small case containing a number of glass tubes.</p> - -<p>When his preparations were completed, Follansbee -seated himself on the bed and made a swift examination -of the helpless man. The expression on his face -was almost fiendish now, and the lids were curled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -in a mocking smile. Evidently the callous scoundrel -was gloating over his triumph.</p> - -<p>Nick held his breath as he watched, for Follansbee -had set to work now. The swift, capable fingers -reached out toward the little table, selected one of the -vials, and dropped its contents on a little pad of cotton. -When the pad was saturated, the doctor bent closer -over Stone in such a way that the detective was unable -to see what happened; but a moment later, when -Follansbee straightened up, the first sign of life appeared -in the motionless figure.</p> - -<p>The head moved restlessly from side to side and -the eyes fluttered open. Very slowly Stone lifted himself -up until he was in a sitting position. His eyes -were wide and staring now, and he looked about him -with the half-vacant expression of a dazed man.</p> - -<p>Follansbee had stepped back as Stone sat up, and -now, reseating himself on the edge of the bed, the -criminal craned his lean neck forward, so that his -face was on a level with that of his victim.</p> - -<p>Stone’s eyes, which had been wavering about the -room, seemed to fix themselves on the hard, little ones -which met them; whereupon Follansbee raised his -hands and began to make passes in front of the staring, -intent face.</p> - -<p>The meaning of his actions was at once revealed to -the detective: Follansbee had brought his man back -to life only to hypnotize him. For what purpose?</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="XLIV">CHAPTER XLIV. -<br /> -<small>CHICK COMES TO GRIEF.</small></h2> - - -<p>With every nerve on the alert, Nick Carter waited.</p> - -<p>He was prepared to interfere at once, whatever the -cost, if he should feel Stone was in any immediate -peril; but he was curious to hear and see all he could. -Suddenly a thin voice pierced the silence.</p> - -<p>“You are well now,” it announced. “You feel -your strength returning.”</p> - -<p>It was Stephen Follansbee who spoke, and the slow -incisiveness of the tone seemed to cut through the -stillness of the room like a knife.</p> - -<p>“Yes. I feel it. I’m much better now—almost -well.”</p> - -<p>Nick hardly recognized Stone’s voice, so changed -was it. It sounded thin and vague, as though the -man were hardly sure of himself, as if he had been -in solitary confinement for months.</p> - -<p>It was by no means the first time that the detective -had witnessed a hypnotist at work, but seldom -had he experienced a more dramatic thrill than he did -at that moment. The uncanny power gave him the -creeps.</p> - -<p>“To-morrow you will get up and go back to the -Hotel Windermere,” Follansbee went on. His eyes -never left those of his victim, and he was speaking -slowly and distinctly, so that the entranced brain -would follow each detail.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Remember that to-morrow is Monday,” he said. -“The bank people will want to see you, and you must -tell them that the check for four hundred and fifty -thousand dollars is quite correct—that it covers not -only professional fees, but a business transaction, the -nature of which you are not at liberty to reveal.”</p> - -<p>Subtle and powerful though the influence was that -held the poor, abused brain in thrall, Nick saw a shaft -of doubt cross Stone’s face.</p> - -<p>“The check for forty-five thousand,” the miner corrected, -in his far-off tone.</p> - -<p>Follansbee’s face went suddenly livid. “Not forty-five -thousand!” he cried. “Four hundred and fifty -thousand. Don’t you remember?”</p> - -<p>Again the clawlike hands moved in swift passes -in front of the rigid features, and the doubt vanished -from the reflected face as Nick watched it.</p> - -<p>“Yes, four hundred and fifty thousand,” murmured -Stone mechanically, as if talking in his sleep.</p> - -<p>An expression of exultant content possessed Stephen -Follansbee’s features. It was victory for him now. -With this man under his complete control, ready to -carry out his desires, he believed his position was secure.</p> - -<p>If Stone appeared at the bank and authorized the -transaction, the chief weapon which still remained in -Nicholas Carter’s grasp would be torn away.</p> - -<p>The plotter started to get up from the bed. “You -are——” he began.</p> - -<p>But at that moment the faint click of some hard -object sounded against the glass of the window, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -was accompanied by a smothered exclamation. Follansbee -wheeled abruptly and peered through the -opening. Outlined against the background of glass, -he—and the detective as well—saw a head and shoulders.</p> - -<p>With a swiftness that few would have given him -credit for, the doctor darted across the room and -threw up the sash; then his long arms shot out and -closed around the intruder’s throat, strangling the -words that rose to his lips. The swift movement -brought Nick round, and he stared at the open window -out of which Follansbee was leaning, his outstretched -arm thrust into the darkness.</p> - -<p>Over the rounded shoulders the detective caught -sight of a familiar face involuntarily twisted in pain. -It was that of Chick Carter.</p> - -<p>For the fraction of a second Nick found himself -surprised that it was not Patsy. It would have been -quite like the latter, especially after his unauthorized -activities of the last few nights, to have come there -to see for himself how things were going; but Chick’s -appearance was unlooked for.</p> - -<p>Nick had heard and seen enough, however, and -even had the interruption been far more unwelcome, -he would not have remained idle. With a swift bound -he was on his feet, and then, darting across the room, -he hurled himself headlong at Follansbee.</p> - -<p>He was just in time.</p> - -<p>Patsy Garvan had talked over his affairs with Chick, -and the latter had decided to accompany him to Miss -Worth’s hospital at the expiration of twenty-four<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> -hours. They had entered the grounds at the rear, -and had made their way without detection to a point -beneath the window which Patsy knew belonged to -Ward E.</p> - -<p>A stout vine climbed the wall beside the window, -and Patsy had wanted to make use of it in order to -gain a view of the room, but Nick’s first assistant had -used his authority as Patsy’s senior, and made the -ascent instead. The ward was on the second floor, -but the ground fell away from the building on that -side, and was about ten feet below the level of the -main floor; consequently there was a nasty drop from -the second floor to the concrete walk beneath.</p> - -<p>The climb had been an easy matter for Chick, and -no more risky than the stunts he did every day. -When he had reached the level of the window sill, -however, he had found the footing rather precarious. -The main stem of the vine was three feet or more to -the left of the window. He was obliged to hold this -with his left hand and lean far out, with one foot -extended along a branch of the vine. In this way he -was able to get his right hand on the window sill -and to pull the vine over far enough so that he could -look into the window. But his efforts had loosened -the vine, and when he felt it giving way, he made a -sudden thoughtless move, which brought one of the -buttons of his coat sleeve in sharp contact with the -pane.</p> - -<p>That was the sound Nick and Follansbee had heard.</p> - -<p>The doctor’s lightninglike attack had taken Chick -by surprise, and the detective, who was clawing for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -a fresh hold had been unable to resist. He had let -go of the vine the moment the window was opened, -and had clutched the inner edge of the sill with both -hands; but while he was doing so, Follansbee had -secured a strangle hold, and begun to push his head -backward, with the obvious intention of making him -let go of the sill.</p> - -<p>The rascally physician would have been no match -for Chick under ordinary circumstances, but that situation -was a different matter. The young detective -was absolutely defenseless.</p> - -<p>It was all over in a few seconds, but they seemed -like years to Carter’s assistant.</p> - -<p>“A-h-h!”</p> - -<p>It was a thin, frenzied scream that went up. Chick -felt the muscular fingers relax from his throat, and -dimly saw the long, lean arms, waving wildly, drawn -in from the window. For a few moments he hung -there, gasping, then, inch by inch he dragged himself -up until his head was level with the sill again, and -his feet had found a support on a little ledge which -hooded the first-floor window.</p> - -<p>Another heave brought him higher, and he dizzily -drew himself over the sill somehow, anyhow, into the -room. For an instant he lay where he had fallen, -while the interior of the room danced about him. -Then, as his eyes cleared, he saw two figures writhing -on the floor, locked in each other’s arms. Summoning -all of his strength, and gritting his teeth, he -rose to his feet and staggered forward.</p> - -<p>It seemed as if the Fury possessed Follansbee, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> -he fought like a wild cat, and it was all Carter could -do to hold him down. But the detective won at last, -and as Chick scrambled to his feet, Follansbee was -stretched out flat on his back, while the chief, with -one hand on the heaving chest, pinned the miscreant -to the floor.</p> - -<p>“It looks like a—a case of handcuffs, chief,” Chick -said, panting for breath.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XLV">CHAPTER XLV. -<br /> -<small>“HEAVEN HELP ME.”</small></h2> - - -<p>Nick Carter looked up at his assistant’s words, then -nodded toward the door. “Lock that!” he commanded. -“Quick!”</p> - -<p>Chick made his way dizzily across the room and -turned the key in the lock. He knew the meaning of -the move. The noise of the struggle might have -been heard, and if so, the room might be invaded -at any moment. It was evident that the chief did -not wish such an interruption. As soon as Chick -had locked the door, he returned to his chief’s side.</p> - -<p>“Now, watch this fellow,” the detective directed. -“Don’t let him make even a move to get up.”</p> - -<p>As he spoke, Nick got to his feet, and, striding to -the wall, switched on a couple more lights, flooding -the room.</p> - -<p>Follansbee lay where he had been left, but his evil -eyes searched the features of the pajama-clad detective.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -Seemingly he had guessed his identity, but had -failed to verify his suspicions from the bearded face.</p> - -<p>“Who are you?” he demanded. “And what does -this mean?”</p> - -<p>Simultaneously he started to rise on one elbow, but -Chick prodded him in the ribs with his foot.</p> - -<p>“Stay where you are!” he advised. “I have my -eye on you, you know.”</p> - -<p>“It’s too much trouble to take off this beard, Follansbee,” -Nick replied evenly. “I hardly think that’s -necessary, anyhow. I have a notion you could guess -at my name without much trouble, and that the guess -would be right. I am Nick Carter, not at yours—but -at James Stone’s—service.”</p> - -<p>There was a tense, dramatic silence; then suddenly, -with a curious, gurgling sound, another figure came -to the stage.</p> - -<p>Stone, swinging himself out of bed, rose to his feet -unsteadily. The blind, vacant look had vanished. A -perplexed, troubled frown had taken its place, and -Stone turned his head slowly, eying each of the occupants -of the room in turn.</p> - -<p>“What is this?” he asked, in a hesitating voice. -“What does it mean?”</p> - -<p>Follansbee screwed himself round on the floor and -faced the man. Chick caught the look on the doctor’s -face, and guessed what he was up to.</p> - -<p>“No, you don’t,” he remarked, stooping down and -jerking Follansbee about by the collar. “Keep your -eyes off him and cut out your Svengali tricks.”</p> - -<p>There was no doubt that Stone was coming out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -from the influence of the spell which had been laid -upon him, but he would doubtless have succumbed -again had it not been for Chick’s quick move. As it -was, he had already looked at Follansbee and recognized -him.</p> - -<p>The ex-miner passed his hands across his eyes. “I -thought I’d seen the last of you,” he jerked out. “I -remember leaving your house, but after that—after -that——”</p> - -<p>His voice faltered and broke, and his look was -pathetic as he turned toward Nick Carter.</p> - -<p>“I seem to recognize you,” he went on. “I wonder -if you are my friend. Can you explain?”</p> - -<p>A look of hope sprang into the detective’s eyes, and -he nodded his head eagerly.</p> - -<p>“I think I can,” he answered. “You have been -made a victim of a cold-blooded rascal. I need not -tell you what happened at the Hotel Windermere, I -suppose?”</p> - -<p>James Stone’s awakening memory brought the -scene back to him, and he shuddered.</p> - -<p>“I know—I know,” he said, dropping back quickly -on the side of his bed. “I—I tried to murder poor -old Win. But you saved me from that, didn’t you?”</p> - -<p>He looked appealingly at Follansbee. The latter -could no longer bear his ignominious position on the -floor. With a look of defiance he scrambled to his -feet, and Carter and his assistant allowed him to do -so, although they ranged themselves on either side -of him.</p> - -<p>Follansbee knew that he was in desperate straits,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -but he believed that his star was not yet ready to set. -He made one mistake, however; for he imagined that -Winthrop Crawford had been inoculated with the -deadly disease.</p> - -<p>“You are mistaken,” he said daringly. “By this -time Crawford must be suffering from the disease -that you placed in his veins.”</p> - -<p>“No, no, no! You don’t mean that—you can’t -mean it!” Stone broke out, in a horrified voice. -“You told me that the syringe was filled with a harmless -liquid.”</p> - -<p>“That was a lie,” was the brutal answer.</p> - -<p>A groan burst from the lips of the tall man, and -his lean figure seemed to shrivel. “Then Heaven help -me!” he moaned. “I’ve killed the man I love best in -the world.”</p> - -<p>“No, you have not!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 id="XLVI">CHAPTER XLVI. -<br /> -<small>THE BOND IS MENDED.</small></h2> - - -<p>Crisply, cuttingly, the words came from Nick Carter’s -lips, and Follansbee wheeled on him in a flash.</p> - -<p>“It was no fault of Follansbee that you did not -carry out the vile scheme his cunning brain had devised,” -Nick went on. “I was fortunately able to -thwart him and to thwart your irresponsible aims of -the moment at the same time.”</p> - -<p>Then, in quiet tones, the detective told the whole -story, which was listened to in a breathless silence by -the others.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> - -<p>“At this moment,” the detective concluded, “Winthrop -Crawford is perfectly well, and is looking forward -eagerly to meeting his old friend again.”</p> - -<p>“You—you mean that he forgives me?”</p> - -<p>“I do,” was the reassuring answer. “He has forgiven -you again and again because he knew you were -not yourself, and because he’s one man in ten thousand.”</p> - -<p>Stephen Follansbee’s sharp voice cut in. “This is -all very interesting,” he said sarcastically, “but you -will oblige me, Carter, by unlocking that door and -letting me go my way.”</p> - -<p>The two men measured glances for a moment.</p> - -<p>“Do you imagine that you have sufficient evidence -against me?” Follansbee went on cynically. “If you -do, you’re destined to meet with a shock. Don’t forget -that you may have to bring both of these men into -it along with me, especially Stone—for, by your own -statement, it was he who attempted to kill his partner.”</p> - -<p>The detective turned to Stone.</p> - -<p>“A check signed by you for the sum of four hundred -and fifty thousand dollars, payable to this man, -was presented at the bank yesterday, and cashed. Do -you know anything about it?”</p> - -<p>The miner lifted his head.</p> - -<p>“No, no! I made out a check, but it was only forty-five -thousand. That was bad enough, but—what day -is this?”</p> - -<p>“This is Sunday, the twenty-sixth,” Nick answered.</p> - -<p>“Then my check cannot have been cashed,” Stone -said, with a great sigh of relief. “You must be mistaken,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -for I distinctly remember that I dated it the -twenty-seventh.”</p> - -<p>“In that case, Mr. Stone,” said Nick, “you have a -chance of getting even with this fellow. I made no -mistake in saying that he cashed a check for four -hundred and fifty thousand dollars yesterday, but it -was dated the twenty-fifth. Circumstances have conspired -with his own cunning to save him from the -charge of being an accessory to a murder, but he won’t -find it so easy to avoid the consequences of this other -crime. We can’t accuse him of forgery, because the -signature is evidently yours, but we can make out a -complete check-raising case against him without the -slightest trouble. A peculiar kind of ‘disappearing -ink’ was used. I’ve already brought out your original -writing in one place, Stone, and I can bring out all of -it by the same process. That will doubtless corroborate -you as to the amount and date—and Stephen -Follansbee will come off his perch.”</p> - -<p>The famous specialist gave a peculiar strangled -sound in his throat and his hands dropped to his side.</p> - -<p>“You’ve won, Carter,” he said, his voice quavering. -“I’ll return the money—every cent of it, if you will -drop the case—and you will have to do that. The -whole thing will come out if you try to press it, and -Stone will be branded as a man who was once under -treatment for insanity.”</p> - -<p>“You’re right, Follansbee, in part,” Nick told him -quietly. “I’ve won, and the time has come for you -to throw down your arms. Don’t be too sure about -the rest, though. I don’t believe my friend Stone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -here has any desire to let you go free, if he can be -shown a way to prevent it. Isn’t that right, Stone?”</p> - -<p>“It certainly is,” was the emphatic response. “If -it is a possible thing to make this infernal scamp pay -for what he has done, I say go ahead, by all means; -but I don’t see how——”</p> - -<p>“It’s my business to find a way,” Nick interrupted, -“and I think I have.”</p> - -<p>“How?” Stone eagerly demanded.</p> - -<p>“By keeping this fact in mind,” the chief explained: -“Follansbee isn’t going to bite off his nose to spite his -face. He says that everything will come out, but -that’s nonsense, and he knows it. We have a clear -case against him, and we can press it without lugging -in anything that we don’t want to be spread on the -records. All the judge and jury need to know is that -you went to Follansbee for professional advice and -treatment—it doesn’t matter for what. His lawyers -will know that the case is going against him, anyway, -and all their energies will be directed toward obtaining -as light a sentence as possible. That being so, -they will be very careful to keep quiet about the nature -of the trouble that brought you to him.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see why,” confessed Stone.</p> - -<p>“It’s perfectly obvious,” Nick insisted. “Any decent -lawyer would know that Follansbee would get a -much more severe sentence if it came out that he had -attempted to victimize an irresponsible man; to swindle -one who was temporarily incompetent, and take away -practically his entire fortune. That would be the -last straw.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I see!” Stone cried excitedly. “It would be even -more to the interest of the defense to keep dark on that -subject than it would for the prosecution.”</p> - -<p>“Then you will get satisfaction, as well as your -money back,” Nick told him confidently; and then -added to the cowed wretch at his side: “The jig is -up, Follansbee. I won’t lock you up until you turn -over your loot; but you may as well write out your -resignation as head of St. Swithin’s, and your millionaire -patients will have to hunt for some one else to -doctor them. You will find it inconvenient to discharge -your professional duties in a cell.”</p> - -<p>Apparently the detective plucked a pair of handcuffs -from the air, and, before Follansbee knew what -was happening, they were snapped on his wrists.</p> - -<p>A few hours later—some time after midnight—two -bronzed men met and clasped hands in Nick Carter’s -study. They did not say much at first, but the detective’s -heart swelled as he watched them.</p> - -<p>The partners had been reunited, and the broken -bond had been welded anew.</p> - - -<p class="no-indent center large p1">THE END.</p> - - -<p class="p1">No. 1006 of the <span class="smcap">New Magnet Library</span>, entitled -“The Crime of the French Café,” by Nicholas Carter, -is a rattling good story, full of thrills, in which Nick -Carter shows again his extraordinary skill in ferreting -out the deep schemes of the most wily plotters, -and his cool courage in dealing with the most desperate -criminals.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> - -<p class="no-indent center bold xxlarge p2">The Dealer</p> - - -<p class="p2 no-indent">who handles the STREET & SMITH NOVELS -is a man worth patronizing. The fact that he -does handle our books proves that he has considered -the merits of paper-covered lines, and -has decided that the STREET & SMITH -NOVELS are superior to all others.</p> - -<p>He has looked into the question of the morality -of the paper-covered book, for instance, and -feels that he is perfectly safe in handing one of -our novels to any one, because he has our assurance -that nothing except clean, wholesome -literature finds its way into our lines.</p> - -<p>Therefore, the STREET & SMITH NOVEL -dealer is a careful and wise tradesman, and it -is fair to assume selects the other articles he -has for sale with the same degree of intelligence -as he does his paper-covered books.</p> - -<p>Deal with the STREET & SMITH NOVEL -dealer.</p> - - -<p class="no-indent center large p1">STREET & SMITH CORPORATION<br /> -<span class="tdpr">79 Seventh Avenue</span> New York City<br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tn" /> -</div> - - -</div> - -<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BROKEN BOND ***</div> -<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 63143-h.htm or 63143-h.zip</div> -<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/1/4/63143/</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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