CHAPTER IV.OVERREACHING A SHARPER.

As a matter of fact, the second examination of the house had not added to the great detective’s knowledge, although it had confirmed him in certain beliefs.

“This house was entered by professional burglars,” he said to himself. “Whether they entered simply for the purpose of burglary, and, finding the case, carried it away with them, or whether they were employed to enter this house to obtain that case, and took the plate and jewelry because they could do so easily, are questions which I cannot determine on this showing.”

He was in Mrs. Herron’s room when he said this to himself, and, thinking it over, he went to the front window and looked out.

On the opposite side of the street, seated on the lower step of a house immediately opposite, was Patsy, talking to an ill-favored specimen of a man similarly seated.

A single glance assured Nick that Patsy was not idling his time, but was there for a purpose.

Whether he was watching for him or not, Nick could not tell, but he drew the curtains aside and placed himself close to the window.

Patsy saw him at once and made a series of rapid signals to Nick.

They meant to Nick that Patsy had hit upon a man important in their search, that he wanted the man followed while he, Patsy, could make a change in his appearance.

Telling Mr. Herron that he had no more business in the house and would at once begin the search, Nick descended the stairs, and, opening the front door, stooda moment within the vestibule, where he signaled to Patsy with his hands that he had understood him.

Patsy immediately got up, and, after a word or two with the fellow beside him, walked off in the direction of the west without looking behind.

The fellow slouched down the street to the east and Nick went after him at a safe distance, taking the precaution to cross the street, so as to be on the same side with him.

Nick did not know the purpose of the shadow, but he had confidence enough in Patsy to take up the lines suggested blindly.

The man led Nick to Third Avenue, where he turned to the right, or, toward Thirty-fourth Street. Here Nick made a mark in red chalk on the corner, which should indicate to Patsy the direction in which they turned.

At the corner of Thirty-fourth Street, the fellow crossed to Third Avenue and stationed himself against a pillar of the elevated railroad, from which point he could keep an eye on each of the four corners. He watched each of these corners as if he were waiting for some one.

Nick put himself out of sight, after he had made a mark on the pavement with red chalk, that would tell Patsy, on his return, that he was there, and waited.

But he did not wait long, for Patsy, in an excellent make-up of an east-side tough, slouched up.

Seeing the mark on the pavement, he looked about, first to locate the man followed, and then for his chief.

Nick beckoned to him from a doorway, and Patsy went to him.

“What is it, Patsy?” asked Nick.

“He’s a crook,” said Patsy. “I’ve known him this long time. He wasn’t in the Thirty-fifth Street job, but he’s on to it and is doing a little fly-cop work himself.”

“I don’t catch your meaning,” said Nick.

“It’s this way: The fellow is Spike Thomas. He suspects that two men that he has worked with sometimes, had a job last night. He suspects that that job was the Thirty-fifth Street house. He’s wanting to get on straight, so as to get into the divvy. He tumbled to me as being on your staff and he tumbled to you at the door. He knows we’re working on the case, and he tried to put it over me to find out how much we’d found out.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That we had found out nothing and suspected nobody. And that was dead right, for we don’t, yet.”

“Did you find out whom he suspects?”

“Oh, no. He’s too fly for that. But I’m certain he’s laying for the two that he thinks did it.”

“He probably thinks right,” said Nick. “He makes a starter for you, Patsy.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Patsy. “Anyhow, I’ll stick to him and see who he talks to and how he talks.”

“That’s right,” said Nick, “and I’ll leave it to you, while I go on other lines.”

Nick went away, and Patsy placed himself for a long watch.

Spike Thomas still stood at the corner, keeping a sharp eye on all who passed or appeared on any of the four corners.

An hour passed, during which Spike Thomas waited as patiently as Patsy, on the opposite corner, patiently watched him.

At the end of that time Spike showed by his action and his vigilance that the person or persons for whom he had watched had come into view.

Presently two men crossed from the lower side of Thirty-fourth Street to the corner where Spike was standing, and as they passed him, carelessly nodded to him.

Spike spoke to them and they halted.

What passed between them of course Patsy could not tell, but it evidently ended in an invitation to drink on the part of one of the two strangers, a man who in his outward appearance looked like everything else but a thief and burglar.

As Patsy was preparing to follow, he suddenly became aware that a man had stopped on the pavement immediately in front of him and was regarding the group across the street most intently.

Looking at this man closely, Patsy quickly recognized a celebrated detective from Chicago.

Stepping up to him, Patsy called him by name, revealing himself to the Chicago sleuth.

“What do you know of those men over there?” he asked.

“Are you after them?” asked the Chicago man in return.

“I am after the one who is on the corner that theyspoke to. He is Spike Thomas, a New York crook, second-story man.”

“That dressy man that’s talking to him,” said the Chicago man, “is Jimmy Lannigan, the swell crackman of Philadelphia. He’s the best lock man in the world. I was surprised to see him here, for I supposed he was in St. Louis. He was in Chicago all last winter, and while we suspected him of several jobs, we couldn’t fix it on him.”

By this time the three men had entered the liquor saloon on the corner, and Patsy said:

“I’d like to talk to you a little longer, but I must get closer to those people.”

He slipped across the avenue and the Chicago sleuth went his way.

Peering into the saloon, Patsy saw the three men standing in a little group at the bar.

There was no one else in the saloon, and Patsy did not dare to enter lest his appearance should be noted. But he did see that Spike Thomas was urging something strongly on the one the Chicago sleuth had called Lannigan, and he heard the latter say in a rather loud voice:

“We can’t talk about it here. Let’s go to another place.”

Patsy retired from the door and took such a position on the corner that he could observe both the front and the rear doors.

In a few minutes the three men appeared at the front door and, turning the corner, walked down Thirty-fourth Street in the direction of the East River.

Patsy sauntered after them. It was not a difficult matter to keep them in sight, although from time to time both Thomas and Lannigan looked behind them. Patsy thought it was more because of habit than in a belief they were followed.

Their way took them to the last block of the street, and here they turned into a saloon which was well filled with customers, and where they could easily talk without attracting attention.

At the rear of this saloon, in the corner, was a table and some chairs.

At it Spike Thomas, Lannigan and his companion sat down and immediately entered into a close conversation.

In the beginning the talk was almost entirely conducted by Spike Thomas, Lannigan’s replies seemingly being a series of denials.

By and by, Patsy drifted to the table next to the party but which was still some little distance from it, too far away, indeed, to hear what was said by the three, as they talked in a low tone.

Finally, however, Spike Thomas raised his voice a bit, apparently a little angry, and said:

“What are yer givin’ me. I know you was into it. And yer had a right to take me in. It’s no way to treat a pal. I got something up me sleeve, and if you don’t take me in on de level I’ll make trouble for yer.”

Lannigan merely laughed and called for some more drinks, but the third man was evidently inclined to regard seriously the threat conveyed in Spike’s words.

Speaking to Lannigan in a low tone he rose from his seat and took Lannigan apart and talked earnestly and vigorously.

Whatever it was that was said made an impression upon Lannigan, and he turned abruptly and went back to the table.

“See here, Spike,” said Lannigan. “You don’t want to do anything ugly until you know what you’re doing. Billy and I can’t talk with you until we’ve been across the river. We’ll be back inside of an hour and see youright here. If there’s a whack into anything you’ll get your share.”

The two tossed off their drinks, and rising, immediately left the saloon.

Spike Thomas remained at the table, looking, as Patsy thought, much dissatisfied with the outcome.

“Anyhow,” said Patsy, “Spike will remain here for an hour or two.”

Suddenly Patsy rose to his feet and sauntered from the saloon.

He ran up the street hastily and turned the corner.

Half an hour later a young fellow, rather jauntily dressed but, nevertheless, one in whom the east-side tough showed, came down the street and turned into the saloon where Spike was awaiting the return of Lannigan and his companion.

Arriving in the center of the barroom he gave a flip to the brim of his hat with a snap of his finger, sending it back on his head, gave a characteristic hitch to one shoulder and, with a protruding chin, walked over to the table where Spike Thomas sat.

“Say, Spike, I’ve been lookin’ for youse,” said the newcomer.

Spike looked up with a frown on his face and curiously regarded the other fellow.

“Well,” he said, “youse has found me. What’s de trouble?”

“Say, Spike,” said the new man. “Does youse know anything about dat job of crib-cracking up in Thirty-fifth Street?”

Spike partly closed his eyes and regarded the other keenly and suspiciously. At length he replied:

“Naw! Nor youse eder, Bally Morris.”

“Dat’s right,” replied the other, “I don’t know muchfor a fact. But I got a couple of lines onto it dat you can work if yer knows who did the job.”

Again Spike looked at the young fellow, but this time it was not alone suspiciously, but with an evident desire to have him show his hand. He altered his tone and manner toward the newcomer.

“Have some booze?” he asked.

As the lad he called Morris sat down at the table he said a little more genially:

“What about dem lines youse has got?”

“Dey’s all right if yer knows who did the job,” replied Morris.

“S’pose I did it, meself,” said Spike, with a wink.

“Well, I knows youse didn’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause de job was done before one o’clock dis mornin’ and youse was wid yer rag down to Rivington Street along about dat time.”

“Dat’s right,” exclaimed Spike, with an oath, “and if it hadn’t bin for de rag I’m t’inkin’ I’d been into de job. She got me out of de way of it.”

“Den,” said Morris, eagerly, “youse does know who did it?”

Spike gave a huge wink and smiled a knowing smile.

“I’m kinder onto it meself,” said Morris. “I’m t’inkin’ I ain’t guessin’ far wrong when I’m sayin’ it was de swell lag Lannigan.”

Spike gave such a start as made Morris say:

“Dat’s de way you t’ink, too.”

“Well, I’ve got a squint dat way,” reluctantly admitted Spike. “But, wot’s dem lines youse got?”

“Well, de first one is dat Nick Carter is in de case and Patsy Murphy wid him.”

“I got dat line meself,” said Spike. “I knows Patsy,dis long time. I seed him dis mornin’ an’ I tumbled to de job.”

“Well, here’s a line you ain’t got. De lags took out of de house a case wid some papers in it wot’s worth more’n fifty times what all de odder things is.”

“Wot’s dat you’re givin’ me?” asked Spike, roughly. “Wot are yer gittin’ to?”

“It’s dis. Some big feller in de dark put up de job of gittin’ de lags to git hold of dat case. Dey put up for it, but nothin’ like wot it’s wurth. Why, man, dere’s thousands and thousands in dat case and dere’s more’n one dat would put up big for it.”

Spike pricked up his ears, for he began to see what was meant and of what use the knowledge of it would be to him in his contest with Lannigan.

“Oh, gwan!” he cried. “You’re dopey. Youse dreamin’.”

“Naw, I ain’t dreamin’,” exclaimed the other. “His nibs dat lives in de crib dat was cracked would give enough to make us all rich, to git dat case back wid wot’s in it.”

“Say,” asked Spike, “where did you get dat line?”

“De same where you got your line,” said Morris.

“Patsy Murphy?”

“De same.”

“How did he come to do dat?”

“Dat’s wot he’s lookin’ for,” said Morris. “Yer see, he’s lookin’ for dat and nottin’ else. You know Patsy is an east sider, an’ he tackled me to know if I knew who did de job, den he’d give all his insides to me about it.”

“Yes, he did!” said Spike, incredulously.

“Dat’s right. He did. An’ he said dat he was talkin’ wid you afore he seen me and if he hadn’t been a chump, he’d split to you to see if you wouldn’t give him a pointer on de fellers into de job.”

“Dat’s right,” said Spike, thoughtfully. “An’ I give him de chance when I was pumpin’ him as to whether he knew who did de job.”

“Well, what of it?”

“Well,” said Morris, “I was t’inkin’ dere was somethin’ into it for you and me if you handled it right. I was t’inkin’ if you was dead onto de right lags, dat youse could go to ’em an’ give ’em a tip about the wuth dere was into de case and get ’em to hold it up; den youse who wasn’t into de job could dicker between dem as wants it bad and Patsy’d be one to dicker wid.”

Spike slapped the table with his hands so hard that every one in the room turned to look, but Spike was too earnest to notice this. To Morris he said:

“Yer right, kid, yer dead right. Yer’ve got a big line. Now, see here, I know who did de job. I’m dead certain of that, dough dey won’t say dey did. But wid what you give me I’ll make ’em talk on de level. Now, kid, youse must git out of here, for dem as I t’inks did it will be here soon. I’m on de dead level wid youse and you got yer rake in whatever I pulls off.”

“All right,” said Morris.

He got up from the table, pulled his hat over his brows, and then swaggered out of the barroom.

Reaching Thirty-fourth Street he walked to the west quite rapidly and on the second corner above as he turned to the left he came into close contact with another, an encounter which caused him to step back with a decided start.

Then he laughed aloud, most heartily, and if at nothing else, at the look of vast astonishment which spread over the face of the other person. Both the laugh and the look of astonishment were justified.

The man he had encountered was an exact duplicateof himself. They needed but a band between them to become Siamese twins.

Finally, recovering from his astonishment a bit, the other reached out as if he would take Morris by the shoulders, saying:

“Here, cull, wot’s all dis?”

“It’s all right, Bally Morris,” replied the other, who himself had been called by that name by Spike Thomas.

Suddenly the other bent forward, peering keenly into the face of his counterpart and almost shouted:

“Hully chee! It’s a plant. De cull is painted for me. Dat’s right.”

Again the other laughed so heartily that he could not reply, and while he was holding his sides his counterpart cried out:

“Wot’s de game? Give up now. Who’s youse?”

“Patsy Murphy, Bally Morris,” replied Patsy, for it was Patsy. “I didn’t think I’d run up agin’ you so far away from de Bowery. But come along till I get dis make-up off me.”

Somewhat dazed and wholly bewildered, the east-side tough followed obediently the one who had made himself into such a skillful resemblance.

“But I say, Patsy,” he asked, “what was you up to?”

“Nothing that’ll hurt you,” replied Patsy, “but if you’ll play up to de line it may put some dollars into your pocket.”

Patsy found on the corner below a drinking-place and, going into the washroom, quickly removed the make-up that had made him look like Bally Morris.

Then he took Billy into the barroom and told him just what he had done in his disguise.

“Now, Billy,” he said in conclusion, “I haven’t made you do anything that’ll hurt you or any one else. If you’ll take up my lead now and not let Spike know thatI faked him so, there’ll be some boodle for you from somewhere. Do yer see?” He continued: “I’m tryin’ to stop that case from going into the hands of people that, if it ever reaches them, can’t be got out of by the right owners.”

When the real Bally Morris comprehended the whole scheme he was quite willing to fall into it and do as Patsy wanted him to do since there was no danger for him, but a chance of profit.

“Are you goin’ to be on the level with me?” asked Patsy.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” replied Morris. “Dere ain’t anyt’ing in it for me any odder way.”

“Then,” said Patsy, “get down to that place and watch Spike. And meet me on the other corner an hour from now. Wait for me till I come.”

Patsy hastened to report, for he believed that he had made most important discoveries.

While Patsy was meeting with his experiences, Chick had been making inquiries as to the five promoters, each of whom had been endeavoring to obtain possession of the drawings and models of the deceased inventor.

Inquiry, skillfully conducted, had satisfied Chick that at least four of them had gone no further than to make offers to the widow for possession of the drawings.

In these offers, there may have been no regards for the rights of Mr. Herron, and, if the widow had accepted one of them, they would have taken an unfair advantage of that gentleman. But, as to going any further and taking a step into crime for the purpose of securing them, Chick was well satisfied they had or would do nothing of the kind.

They were men of standing and reputation.

He did find out that these four had banded together in a new offer to the widow if she could obtain possession of the drawings and models again to deliver to them, and that this offer was made peculiarly advantageous to her in order to induce her to stronger efforts to regain them from Mr. Herron.

As to the fifth, whose name was Mortimer Seaman, Chick was by no means so well satisfied.

He found by inquiry that Seaman was regarded by those who knew him best as a keen, sharp, unscrupulous man, who was reckless in his methods and who, more than once in his career, had trod so near the line dividing honesty from dishonesty that he had barely escaped punishment.

He was charged, in more than one instance, of having robbed inventors of the fruits of their labors and discoveries, and had, in one case, openly boasted of the shrewdness with which he had secured certain patent rights without paying for the same.

Indeed, a cloud of scandal and doubt and suspicion seemed to surround the man, and Chick also learned that his credit at the banks and other financial institutions was by no means of the best.

Pursuing his inquiries into his private life, he found that Seaman had two sides therein. One, that he was interested in athletic sports, and the other, a rather rapid side, since he was much given to gambling.

In short, in the daytime he was a projector of commercial schemes and a promoter of stock companies, while at night he was a man about town familiarly known in the Tenderloin.

“If any one undertook such desperate means to secure those papers as hiring burglars,” said Chick, to himself, “Mortimer Seaman is the man.”

He went to Nick Carter to report his inquiries to his chief.

“Chick,” said Nick, “what you have discovered fits in very well with some things I have learned to-day, and together the two discoveries make a pretty strong showing.

“Before calling on Samuel Elwell, who is the lawyer who acted for the inventor and is now acting for the widow, I made some pretty close inquiries as to his standing. In those inquiries I have learned that, since the death of the inventor, Elwell and Seaman have been seen together very frequently, but almost wholly in the evenings and uptown. I cannot learn that Seaman ever called at Elwell’s office.

“The fact that they met at night would in itself be of no sort of consequence, perhaps; but when I called onElwell he denied ever having seen Seaman, saying that he was unacquainted with the person. This looks bad on the face of it, and, at all events, shows that Elwell is an unreliable person.

“Elwell is the man who drew up the articles of agreement between the inventor and Mr. Herron, which had not been signed at the time of the death of the inventor. He, therefore, well knew what the intention of the inventor was, and what value the inventor had received from Mr. Herron. Yet it is he who advised the widow to accept the offer Seaman made and who had been trying in her name to recover the drawing and models from Mr. Herron.”

“And your conclusion is—what?” asked Chick.

“My conclusion is,” replied Nick, “that Elwell is not acting sincerely for the widow, is advising her badly with the intention of profiting in the enterprise himself.

“Mr. Herron’s lawyer tells me that Elwell had abandoned his suit against Herron for the recovery, since he found he had no standing in court; and, when Mr. Herron’s lawyer refused to make such concession as would enable the case to be tried, Elwell lost his temper, declaring that if they were not permitted to proceed on legal lines they were not to be blamed if they took to illegal ones. In short, Chick, Mr. Seaman and Mr. Elwell are both men to be watched.”

They had arrived at this stage of the consultation, when Patsy came in, in great haste.

“I have got to get back again as quick as I can!” he exclaimed, “so let me spiel first.”

Consent having been given him, Patsy told his story—a story that elicited the heartiest praise and laughter from Nick and Chick.

That which struck Chick as the most humorous was that Patsy, after having assumed the disguise of an eastside crook, and as he was hastening away with a view of getting rid of it, should run against the original himself.

When the story was ended, Nick said:

“If I had been at your elbow, Patsy, to have you do exactly what I wanted you to do, you could not have done better than you have done. It was a bright idea of yours, having found out pretty closely who the men were who did the job, to make them hold on to the case, and not deliver it.

“From what Chick and I have learned to-day, added to your very important discoveries, I think we can set out on the line, and not be very far wrong, that Seaman employed Lannigan and his companions to go into that house for that case.

“That’s the line that we have got to work on now. If we can connect Seaman and Lannigan, I think our theory will straighten out into fact.”

“I wish,” said Chick, “I had known all that we now know before I left the neighborhood of Seaman’s office.”

“Why so?” asked Nick.

“Because,” replied Chick, “I fear that that trip of Lannigan and his companion across the river, that Patsy tells of, was to meet Seaman and, perhaps, to deliver to him there that case.”

“I don’t think so,” said Patsy, positively.

“And why not, youngster?” asked Chick.

“Because the biggest ‘fence’ there is around here is on that side of the river, in Long Island City. I don’t know how long it has been there, but a crook told me about it a week ago, and, when I heard Lannigan and the other fellow say they were going over to the other side of the river, I dropped that they were going to make arrangements for taking the stuff they took out of that house in Thirty-fifth Street over there.”

“I think Patsy is right,” said Nick. “I hardly thinkthat they would cross the water to meet Seaman. But I do fear that that case has already been delivered to Seaman—was delivered before day broke.”

Chick looked up quickly at Nick, and said:

“Then it is your plan to make the fight on the Seaman line.”

“Yes,” said Nick; “after the developments of to-day I am satisfied that if we recover that case, it will be from Seaman. However, we are hardly in deep enough to be positive about anything. I have great hopes from what Patsy may learn this afternoon. And, Chick, I think the thing for you to do now is to put yourself on Seaman’s trail and follow him up to see where he leads you.”

“If that is so,” replied Chick, “I had better get to him as soon as I can.”

“And I must get back to my assistants,” laughed Patsy.

Without further delay, both Chick and Patsy left the room and hurried off in their different directions.

The two young detectives were hardly out of sight when Ida made her appearance to report the results of her labor during the day.

As she entered, Nick said:

“I hardly expected to see you to-day, Ida. But your coming now would indicate that you have something to say.”

“I have,” replied Ida. “I have seen and had a talk with the widow, Mrs. Pemberton.”

“So soon?” said Nick, highly pleased. “That is very quick work, Ida.”

Ida laughed, and replied:

“I had unusual good luck. Finding out where Mrs. Pemberton lived, I saw at once that her next door neighbor was a friend of mine. Going there, to that friend, Ifound out that the two—my friend and Mrs. Pemberton—were quite intimate friends. At all events, very neighborly—frequently exchanging calls. That is how I came to meet her so quickly. While I was in the rooms of my friend, Mrs. Pemberton ran in, and it was not a difficult matter to get Mrs. Pemberton to talk of that which is nearest to her heart.”

“That was, indeed, unusual luck,” said Nick.

“Nick Carter’s luck,” said Ida, with a laugh.

“No,” replied Nick; “if it was anybody’s luck, it was your luck; but I don’t think luck has anything to do with it, after all. It is hard work and quick seizure of opportunities when they present themselves. And your luck was in seizing quickly the opportunity you saw. But what did you learn?”

“The chief thing that I learned,” said Ida, “is that Mrs. Pemberton is beginning to believe that she has been badly advised and that she believes that it would have been better for her had she followed the intentions of her husband and stuck to Mr. Herron. She is poor and without money.”

“But she has the ten thousand dollars that Mr. Herron gave her for the drawings and models.”

“No, she has not,” replied Ida; “that was returned to Mr. Herron when she decided to accept the offer of the other people and demanded the return of the models and drawings?”

“But it was not returned,” replied Nick.

“She said to-day that it was,” replied Ida.

“She gave the check to Mr. Elwell, her lawyer, who says that he returned it to Mr. Herron.”

Nick started to his feet, crying:

“The infernal rascals! They mean to rob her of everything. If they have got those drawings and modelsthrough the robbery of last night, she will not get a single penny.”

The detective began to pace up and down the room hurriedly. Suddenly he stopped and asked:

“Did she mention a man of the name of Seaman in her talk?”

“Yes; he is the man who made the offer that induced her to go back from the arrangements with Mr. Herron.”

“Was Mr. Elwell with him at the time?”

“Yes; she mentioned him as being present at the time they concluded the arrangements with Mr. Seaman. Mrs. Pemberton said that Mr. Elwell wrote a paper in her rooms at the time, binding her to let Seaman have the drawings and models, and Seaman to the payment of certain sums of money at certain periods, which they both signed.”

“They are a pack of rascals!” again exclaimed Nick. “Elwell knew that Mrs. Pemberton was in honor bound to let those drawings and models go to Mr. Herron, and that, in accepting the check of ten thousand dollars, she was legally bound. But he has stolen that check and left her without a cent. I must prevent him from realizing on that check if it is not too late. Follow up your acquaintance with Mrs. Pemberton, Ida.”

Nick hurried to the office of Mr. Herron and learned from him that up to twelve o’clock that day, the check for ten thousand which he had given to Mrs. Pemberton had neither been received nor tendered to him, and that it had not been presented for payment.

Under Nick’s advice, he hurried to the bank to stop its payment unless it was presented by the one in whose favor it was drawn.

When Patsy returned to the place he had appointed to meet Bally Morris he was surprised to find that person waiting for him with Spike Thomas.

So warm was their greeting of him that Patsy began to think that they regarded him as one of their pals.

As the proper way to open up the business of such importance, Spike asked Patsy to join him in a drink, and when they were ranged at the bar, Spike said:

“I say, Patsy, was youse on the dead level or was youse givin’ Bally a stiff about dat case?”

“No,” said Patsy, soberly, “I was on the dead level about it. Say, I’m givin’ it to you straight when I’m tellin’ you me boss is only in the case for to get that leather case with the papers in it. He’s got to git it some way, and he’s sizin’ it up that it’s got to be got by comin’ down wid de dust.”

“Dat’s straight talk,” said Spike.

“Of course it’s straight,” said Patsy. “It’s one of the cases where you play your cards wid the faces up. Somebody swiped the papers. The man from whom the papers was swiped wants ’em bad and they’re wuth more to him than to anybody else. To get ’em back he’d forget in a minute that his crib was cracked. Now that’s all there is in it.”

“Does youse know for sure dat de leather case was swiped?” asked Spike, earnestly.

“Sure.”

“Does youse know who did the swiping?” asked Spike.

“No; I don’t know anything about it,” said Patsy. “But you do.”

“I think I do, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Oh, come off,” said Patsy. “You know that Lannigan and another fellow did the job.”

“Dat’s just what I think,” said Spike, earnestly. “I’m dead certain of it, but not knowin’ it for sure. Dey won’t say so.”

“Say,” asked Patsy, “didn’t they come back as they agreed to from the other side of the river?”

“Yep, dey come back all right, all right, but dey wouldn’t talk.”

“What did they go across the river for?”

“I’m blessed if I know.”

“Then I’ll tell you what for,” said Patsy. “They went across there to stow the sparklers and the tin. The fence, you know.”

Spike started up with great interest.

“Oh, come now,” said Patsy, “you don’t want me to t’ink, Spike, that you’re so far behind that you don’t know that the safest fence around here is across de river.”

“Oh, I heard so,” said Spike, humbly. “But, honest, Patsy, I ain’t never been dere, for there ain’t been nothin’ doin’ wid me so long dat I’m parched back to the roots of me tongue.”

“Well,” said Patsy, “that’s what they went across the river for. But I ain’t got nothin’ to do about that. My peepers are on that leather case.”

“Well, anyhow,” said Spike, “when dey come back dey wouldn’t talk any more than before dey went.”

“You mean,” said Patsy, “that they wouldn’t say whether they were in that job in Thirty-fifth Street or not.”

“Dat’s what I mean,” said Spike.

“But, say,” said Bally Morris, speaking for the first time, “Spike put it at ’em anyhow.”

“Put what at them?” asked Patsy.

“Oh, I put up de story as to dat case and wot there was into it if dey held on,” said Spike.

“How did they take it?” asked Patsy.

“Dat’s just it,” said Spike. “Dey took it all in and dey swallowed it for gospel truth. Den de two culls looked at each other and I seed dey meant to freeze on it, but was goin’ to freeze me out. Say, Patsy, it was a clean trow down. Dey’s goin’ to play dere own hands on de tip I give dem and freeze us out.”

“Are you goin’ to let ’em?” asked Patsy.

“Not on yer solid nut,” said Spike. “You stand by and see what de next shuffle of de cards turns up for trumps.”

Spike and Bally Morris winked at each other and laughed.

“We ought to take Patsy in,” said Bally Morris.

“No, no,” said Spike. “Patsy don’t want to be in on dis game. He don’t want to know nothin’ about it, but all de same we’re on de dead level with him. You don’t want to be in dis shuffle, Patsy, but you’ll be in all de same on de scoring.”

Patsy understood by this that something was going forward that, in the opinion of the two, it was best for him to know nothing about until it was all over, but that it was in the line of his wishes.

Spike drew himself up, and, with a wink and a leer, said:

“I’m a little of a fly-cop meself and we ain’t doin’ so bad after all; are we, Bally?”

“Not on your life,” said Bally.

The two toughs laughed heartily, and Spike added:

“I give Lannigan de glad hand and put him on to deboys when he landed here. But he’s trowed me down. Maybe he’ll want to know who trowed him up.”

To this Patsy made no remark.

He was anxious to get away in order that he might follow the two toughs, for he knew that they had entered into some sort of a scheme in connection with this matter.

“Well, Spike,” he said, “if you don’t want to let me in to what you’re up to, all right. I’ve been on the dead level wid you and, anyhow, you ought to be with me.”

The tough made the strongest protest in his own language that he had no idea of going back on Patsy, and the young detective slipped away.

He did not go far, however, but, concealing himself in a place where he could not be observed, watched to see the two toughs come from the drinking place where he had left them.

They came out in a short time and went in the direction of Thirty-fourth Street, turning to the east.

Patsy slipped after them and cautiously followed down the block in Thirty-fourth Street to see them meet, on the next corner, a young lad of their own kind, not more than sixteen or seventeen, who told something to Spike which gratified him to such an extent that he grasped Bally Morris’ hand and shook it hard as he capered a clumsy dance on the sidewalk.

The two then turned on their heels, walking in the direction whence they had come.

Patsy was put at some difficulty to get out of sight in time, and only did so by hiding behind a signboard leaning against a grocery store.

The two passed on to Third Avenue, Patsy in fairly close pursuit.

Reaching Third Avenue, Bally Morris made an inspection of the drinking saloon on the corner and soon came out shaking his head at Spike.

The two then walked up Third Avenue rather leisurely, followed by Patsy, until Forty-second Street was reached. Here again Bally Morris went into the liquor saloons on the corner and came back to report to Spike standing on the upper corner.

The place was not an easy one for Patsy to keep the two in sight.

For a time the two manifested no disposition to leave that corner and, while Patsy was wondering what their purpose was, he caught sight of Chick coming down Forty-second Street rather stealthily. Patsy looked around to see whom he was following, and finally hit upon a low-sized, broad-shouldered man, dressed in the extreme of fashion, who was walking down the street in a vigorous and self-satisfied way.

Patsy at once put himself in a position where he could signal Chick that he was nearby.

Chick caught the signal and immediately returned one which meant that Patsy should come to him if he could.

As the man Chick was following reached the corner of Forty-second Street and Third Avenue—that is to say, the northeast corner—he stopped and looked about in every direction.

Apparently he did not see the person he was looking for, because he settled himself for a wait. This gave Chick an opportunity to cross the street to where Patsy stood.

As he came up he asked:

“Shadowing?”

“Yes,” replied Patsy.

“Who?”

Patsy grinned and replied:

“My two assistants.”

“What are they doing?”

“I don’t know, but they are up to some game that I can’t see through. Who is your man?”

“Seaman.”

“The deuce!” replied Patsy. “What is he here for?”

“I don’t know,” replied Chick, “but I followed him here from Broad Street.”

“He is waiting for somebody?” asked Patsy.

“It looks that way,” said Chick, “and I think it’s Lannigan.”

At this moment Patsy caught the arm of Chick, and giving it a hard grip, nodded his head up the street.

Chick turned to see Nick Carter coming down on the same side of the street on which he had followed Seaman.

“He’s on the shadow,” said Patsy.

“Yes; but who?”

“I ain’t sure,” said Patsy, “but I’ll bet that it’s that man with the black frock coat, black hat and full beard.”

Chick and Patsy both separated in order that they might give the signal to Nick that they were in the neighborhood.

But each kept their eyes upon those they were following.

Spike Thomas and Bally Morris were still standing on the corner they had selected, and Seaman was on the corner opposite them.

As Nick neared the corner he made a rapid signal which showed that he had received theirs, but made no effort to join them.

In the meantime the man Chick and Patsy had selected as the one followed by Nick went on to the corner, where he went to Seaman, touching him on the shoulder and shaking hands with him.

“I’ll bet,” said Chick, “that the man is the lawyer, Elwell.”

“How do you know?” asked Patsy.

“I don’t know,” said Chick, “I am only guessing.”

In the meantime, Nick Carter had concealed himself at a point from which he could watch the man he had followed.

Seeing that he was in conversation with some one on the corner, he called Chick and Patsy to him.

“Elwell?” asked Chick, as he came up.

“Yes,” said Nick. “Do you know who he is talking with?”

“Yes,” said Chick. “It is my man Seaman.”

“Seaman?” repeated Nick. “That is strange. They have met here by arrangement.”

“To meet some one else,” said Chick.

“And why are you here, Patsy?” asked Nick.

“I followed my two assistants here,” said Patsy, “from the foot of Thirty-fourth Street.”

“It is very strange that following men from different parts of the city we should all meet here,” said Nick. “But we must separate. It won’t do for us to bunch together here. But keep in touch with each other, boys.”

Chick slipped across the street, closely followed by Patsy, but on the other side Chick took up a station near the elevated railroad pillar, while Patsy, going further, crossed Third Avenue and took a station there, where he could more easily watch the two who were his especial charge.

He had been there but a moment or two when he saw signs of excitement in Spike Thomas and Bally Morris.

They evidently were trying to conceal themselves from the view of some one on the opposite side of the avenue.

Patsy made an effort to see if he could determine who or what was the cause of this excitement, and saw Lannigan coming down the avenue with the same man he had seen in the saloon in Thirty-fourth Street.

It struck him at once that Chick and Nick did not know Lannigan, and so he slipped across the avenue again, using a passing street car for a cover, and reaching Chick, said to him:

“Lannigan and his pal are coming down the street.”

At this moment, Lannigan came into view and immediately went up to Elwell and spoke to him.

“That’s him,” said Patsy, “speaking to Elwell. Let the chief know who it is.”

He stepped back to look at his own men and saw that they were hastening up Third Avenue at a rapid gait.

Without waiting further, he darted after the two, well satisfied that the one they had concealed themselves from, and from whom they were now running, was Lannigan.

In the meantime, the four men on the corner had exchanged a few words, and then Lannigan and his companion turning, followed by Seaman and Elwell, led the way into the saloon on the corner near them.

Chick crossed Forty-second Street to Nick, saying:

“The two who met our men were Lannigan and his pal.”

“Does Seaman know you?” asked Nick.

“I do not think so,” replied Chick.

“Then slip into that saloon and see if you can get near enough to hear what their talk is about.”

Chick walked away hurriedly and entered the saloon.

Nick took up a position on the street, where he could watch both entrances, and waited for developments.

In the meeting of Seaman, Elwell and the one Patsy said was Lannigan, Nick saw strong confirmation of the theory that he had been inclined from the first to believe.

That was that one at least of the promoters who, on the inventor’s death, had tried and failed to get hold of the drawings and models through the widow, was now engaged upon the desperate enterprise of hiring a burglar to enter the house of Mr. Herron and steal them.

As a result of Chick’s investigation, it appeared that Seaman was the only man likely to engage in such an enterprise, although nothing had been discovered that in the slightest degree connected him with that burglary.

His own investigation as to Elwell, the lawyer, had led him to suppose that the lawyer had seized in the death of Pemberton, the inventor, and the ignorance of the widow as to business matters, an opportunity to increase his own financial gains by a control of the model and drawings.

But all of this was simply the result of shrewd suspicion, in which there had been nothing pointing to who had entered the house, nor anything even hinting at a conspiracy between the lawyer and the promoter on the one side and the burglars on the other.

Patsy’s experiences of the day, however, had supplied, if not knowledge, at least suspicion as to who that burglar was.

Now, the meeting of the three in a part of the city so remote from the haunts of at least two, indicated that theywere on the right track. And what had been mere suspicion was rapidly getting into the shape of fact.

Lannigan was a new hand in New York. That he had even come to the city had been unknown to Nick. He had never seen him nor come in contact with him, but he had heard of him as a most skillful thief whose line of work was principally that of opening safes, as some of the Philadelphians knew to their cost, for it was in that city he was suspected of making his headquarters.

Nick had heard that he had learned the trade of safe-lock making and had become an expert in opening safes where the combination had been lost. That the expertness he had reached in this had been his undoing, as he had been persuaded into doing this work for burglars who had opened the way for him to enter banks and other places where money was stored.

Nick had sent Chick into the saloon for the reason that he feared he would be recognized by Elwell, on whom he had called earlier in the day.

He had supposed that they had entered this saloon only for the purpose of taking a drink, and would soon come out again, for he believed that the meeting was for the purpose of receiving from Lannigan the drawings and models.

But as the time was prolonged, he began to believe that matters were taking a shape quite different from what he had supposed.

Finally, by the aid of a wig and a false mustache and a change of hat, he made a sufficient change in his appearance to prevent Elwell from recognizing him, and then he entered the saloon himself.

There were a number of persons standing about and ranged along the bar, but in a hasty glance around he could see none of the three under suspicion, nor was Chick at once visible.

At the rear of the saloon there was a partition about man high that formed of the corner a small private room.

The door of this room was open, and as Nick pushed his way cautiously toward the rear, he could see that the three men were seated about a small table in the center of that room.

A glance at them was sufficient to see that matters were by no means moving along smoothly between them.

Lannigan and his companion seemed to be opposed to Elwell and Seaman, the first of whom was apparently pleading with the other two.

Looking around quickly for Chick, Nick saw in the angle made by this partition and the side wall, and not far from the door of the small room, a man intently engaged in reading a newspaper held in such a manner as to utterly conceal his face and body.

Nick surmised that the person behind this paper was Chick, and that he had gotten as close to the party within the room as he could without discovery.

Going back to the front of the saloon, Nick gave a whistle, which was one of the signals between himself and his assistants, and, watching the paper held by the man in the corner, saw a peculiar flirt of it, which assured him that he was right in supposing Chick was behind him.

From the fact that Chick did not change position, he was also satisfied that Chick was on the track of something which he regarded too important to leave.

And so, working himself down by degrees to the rear of the room, he began an examination to see if it were possible for him to get close to this room at a point where he also could hear what was going forward within it.

He observed that at the end of the bar was a large ice box in which the larger beer kegs were put, and thatat the back of that was a small room where was the washstand. Between this ice box and the small room and the one in which the four were seated, was a small passageway which led to a door, which, in Nick’s judgment, opened into a hallway from which the upper part of the building was gained.

Nick immediately left the saloon by the front door, and, walking along Forty-second Street, found a rear door at the end of the building, which, on trying, he found opened into the hallway he had supposed was there.

On his right, a few feet further on, was a door, and on trying this he found it to be the one he had seen from the barroom.

Cautiously passing this, he turned quickly into the small room where was the washstand. In the corner of this room was a chair, which he mounted and saw that he could climb to the top of the ice chest where, lying at full length, he would be well concealed.

It was but the work of a moment to place himself in that position.

When there he found that he could hear quite well, though the people within the room were talking in a low voice.

Finally Lannigan spoke in a tone made louder by his irritation. And his words fell quite distinctly on Nick’s ears.

“What’s the use of going over that again,” said Lannigan. “You didn’t give it to me straight in the beginning. You gave me a stiff that the papers wasn’t of much value, of no value to the man that had them, but only to you, and that the best they would do if they were in your hands would be to save you time.”

“Well, that is true,” said Seaman. “We were bound to get them by law, but it would take a year or more to do so.”

“Stop it,” said Lannigan. “There’s no use of lying any more about it. You played me for a chump. You never came to me on the job until you found out there was no way in law by which you could get them. If there had been you wouldn’t have come to me at all.”

“You have been misinformed,” said Elwell.

“No, I haven’t,” said Lannigan. “I’ve got it all straight. And you lied to me about the money there was into the papers. There’s been a big race for these papers, and there’s more than one that’ll bid high to get them. I am on to it straight when I say that the man from whom they was took would put up fifty thou. to have them back.”

“Oh, you’re wild,” said Seaman.

“Wild nawthin’,” said Lannigan, angrily. “Yer tried to give me a gold brick, and if it hadn’t been for what I found out this morning you would. No thousand casenote is goin’ to get that thing from me.”

“A thousand dollars for an hour’s work at your own trade, with six or eight thousand dollars of stuff besides that you took out, isn’t much of a gold brick,” said Seaman.

“It’s the chances I took,” said Lannigan, “that puts the price on.”

“You got away with the chances all right,” said Seaman.

“No,” said Lannigan, so sharply that his voice rang. “Nick Carter is on the hunt at this minute. Do you know what that means?”

“I suppose it means,” said Seaman, carelessly, “that he’s trying to find out who went into that house during the night.”

“I’ll tell you what it means,” said Lannigan. “It means that the smartest man on earth is right at my heels, andthat I’ll be lucky if I get out of town without being nabbed.”

“But——”

“It means that to get for you what will make you big rich, I may have to do time in the cage. And you can bet your bottom dollar that I’m not goin’ to do that for any little thousand casenote, now that I know how much those papers are worth to you and others.”

“Lannigan,” said Elwell, “there’s a side to this that you don’t seem to look at. You are striking so high that the people I represent, and Seaman here, can’t reach it. Now, we will admit for the sake of argument that there are others that will pay well for those drawings, perhaps more than we will pay. But if you go back on the bargain that you entered into, there is no reason why, if we lose the papers, that we should keep our mouths shut about the thefts of those jewels and silver plate. The taking of them was all outside of our bargain.”

“You mean,” said Lannigan, “that you would peach on me?”

“If you go back on your word and your bargain, there is no reason why we should have any friendship for you. This game isn’t all your own.”

There was a moment’s pause in the conversation, and then Lannigan said, in a most threatening tone:

“There are sharp knives and straight-shooting revolvers, and all the undertakers are not dead.”

“So,” replied Elwell, “you are threatening to add murder to your list.”

“No,” replied Lannigan; “I am only telling you that you can’t fool me. That’s all.”

There was a movement and sound as if somebody had thrust back a chair and risen to his feet.

“But what’s the use of talking?” said Lannigan. “You got my say. If you want them papers what’s into thatleather case you can get them for fifty thou. I’ll give you until to-morrow, this hour, to think it over, and if you don’t come down I’ll make the best deal I can with the man I took them from, and I know how to do it.”

There was the sound of a step or two and Seaman’s voice was heard.

“Wait a moment, Lannigan,” it said, “I want just a word.”

There was silence some four or five minutes, when Seaman was heard again:

“Lannigan,” he said, “we’ll make you a new offer. We haven’t got the money you demand. It’s a big sum. But I stand ready to make this deal with you now, if you’ll take it. If you will deliver those drawings and the model to me this afternoon, I’ll give you five thousand dollars in cash and my promise in writing, well indorsed, to give you fifty thousand dollars when this thing is sold to the company that stands ready to buy and manufacture.”

There was no reply to this for a moment or two, and Seaman added:

“It’s the best I can do, and in giving you five thousand I give you every cent I have. I can’t make the sale, which is all ready to make for big money, unless I’ve got these things in my hands. And that’s all there is about it. If you don’t take this offer we’ve got to throw up our hands and we won’t owe you a cent.”

There was silence following this, which lasted a long time, and it seemed to Nick that Lannigan and his companion must have been consulting over this last offer.

Finally there was a step or two heard and then Lannigan’s voice, saying:

“Is that five thou. to be laid down to-day?”

“On the delivery of that leather case with all that’s in it.”

“How soon can you do it?” asked Lannigan.

“As soon as you can deliver the goods.”

“That’s now.”

“And I have the funds with me now.”

“Well, then, if you close up the first part of the bargain right away, we’ll do it.”

Everybody apparently rose from their feet, and amid the scuffle and movement was heard Seaman’s voice:

“Let’s get about it at once.”

“Come with me, then,” said Lannigan.

“Where to?” asked Elwell.

“You will know when you get there,” replied Lannigan, gruffly.

Nick slipped off the ice box and regained the floor of the little washroom quickly.

Slipping out of the door and through the hall he was on the corner of Forty-second Street and Third Avenue before the precious quartet came from the saloon, for they had stopped to take a drink to bind their bargain.

Leaving the saloon, they turned to the left, going up Third Avenue to the north.

Close behind them came Chick.

Nick and Chick exchanged signals and, at Nick’s suggestion, made by a wave of the hand, Chick rapidly crossed to the other side of the avenue, while Nick followed up after the four on the same side they were traveling.

The way of the four was up half a dozen blocks, where they turned into a cross street going to the right, or in the direction of the East River.

Two or three blocks were passed and they came to the end of a block where, on the corner, was a three-story brick building which did not occupy the whole of the lot on which it was built. Between the end of the house and the adjoining one was a yard of some ten feet in width,which was separated from the street by a high, board fence.

In this fence was a gate, and Lannigan led the way through the gate, standing by to close it after the last one had passed through.

Standing on the other side of the street, Nick saw that there was a closed staircase built on the outside of the house in the rear, by which each floor above the liquor saloon, which occupied the first floor, was reached.

Chick came up and Nick said to him:

“They have gone into that house and by those stairs from the outside.”

“Do we raid them?” asked Chick.

“Yes,” said Nick, sharply; then he added: “But I wish Patsy were here.”

“First,” said Chick, “we ought to look to see what other outlets there are to the house.”

“Go into the barroom,” said Nick, “and see if you can find inside stairways. I’ll take a look about the outside.”

The two started for the purpose.

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