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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 - -Text in small capitals has been replaced by regular uppercase text.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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