As the four men under the watch of Nick and Chick had entered the saloon as described in the last chapter, Patsy was hurrying up Third Avenue after the two crooks, Thomas and Bally Morris.
What their purpose or intentions were Patsy had no idea. But as he believed that whatever errand they were on was the result of what he had told them, he suspected that in some way it was connected with the burglary in Thirty-fifth Street. In what way, however, he could not even guess.
When they had left Thirty-fourth Street, after receiving word from the young fellow which had so excited Spike, and had turned to go up to Forty-second Street, Patsy had supposed that they were searching for Lannigan and his companion.
But when to that corner came Lannigan and he saw how anxious they were to escape the observation of that swell cracksman, and how, as quickly as they could, they got away from the neighborhood, he was confused and could do no more than follow them to see what they were about.
The route they took was not very different from that later followed by Lannigan, Seaman, Elwell and the unknown.
However, they did not go up Third Avenue as far as the four, but turned to the east a block short, going down to Avenue A, where they turned to the left and entered a house midway in the block.
“Now,” said Patsy to himself, “what are they going to do here?”
On the first floor, on the street, was a small store devoted to the sale of butter, cheese and eggs. Beside this store was a door which entered into a hallway, and it was through this door that Spike Thomas and Bally Morris passed.
“They’re going upstairs,” said Patsy to himself. “Anyhow, I’ll sneak after them.”
Waiting only long enough for them to climb the first flight of stairs, Patsy dashed into the hall and cautiously followed up the stairs.
As he went up this flight he could hear them mounting the second flight and he said to himself:
“They’re going to the upper floor.”
Reaching the second floor he followed the banisters to the foot of the second flight, and there stopped to listen.
He could hear them rap at a door on the floor above him and, in a moment or two, the door was opened and the voice of a woman, in strong English accents, was heard:
“Oh, Harry, is it you? It’s a long time since I saw you. Who is this with you?”
“It’s me friend, Mr. Morris, Aunt Emma. It isn’t often I get so far uptown, but, being up here, I thought I’d drop in on yer. I s’pose Uncle Joe is gone to work.”
“Yes,” replied the voice of the woman, “but come in.”
The next moment the noise of the closing of the door was heard and Patsy said to himself:
“Hang it. I don’t believe it’s anything, after all.”
He stood a moment or two hardly knowing what to do. Then he said:
“I don’t think there’s any use going up there. I had better go down and watch for them to come out.”
He went as far as the head of the stairs with this intention when he stopped, saying almost aloud:
“But what was it that tickled Spike so down in Thirty-fourth Street. He didn’t shake hands with himself because he knew his aunt was at home this morning.”
He stood still a moment thinking and again spoke aloud:
“But, mebbe it was Lannigan coming to Forty-second Street that threw them off.”
He made another motion as if to go down the stairs, but halted.
He was debating what to do. But the matter was settled for him at this instant.
The door on the second floor opposite where he stood was suddenly opened and a rather flashily dressed young girl of nineteen or twenty appeared. Casting a glance at Patsy, she gave a cry and, jumping backward, closed the door instantly.
Before Patsy could recover from his surprise the door was swung open and a tough-looking young man came into the hall, demanding in rough tones to know what he was doing there.
“I guess I’ve lost my way,” said Patsy.
“Well, you want to find it right away,” said the young fellow.
Patsy wanted no row at this time, for he did not want Spike Thomas and Bally Morris to know that he had followed them.
So by the showing of good humor he tried to get out of his difficulty as easily as possible.
“Then I’ll make my way down the stairs,” he said, laughingly.
At that moment the door opened again and the young girl appeared for a second time. As she did so she said to the young fellow:
“He’s Patsy Murphy. Nick Carter’s kid.”
“What are you doing here, then?” asked the young fellow of Patsy.
“Nothing you need get hot over,” said Patsy.
“You ain’t goin’ to get off so easy as all that,” said the young fellow. “You can’t take anybody out of this house, not while I’m here.”
“I don’t want to take anybody out,” said Patsy.
“Then what are yer here for?”
Patsy looked at the girl and made a bluff.
“Well,” he said, laughing, “a feller can foller a pretty girl even if he is one of Nick Carter’s squad.”
If Patsy squared himself with this left-handed compliment with the girl he certainly did not with the young fellow.
“Say, dis goil is me sister,” he said, “an’ dere ain’t no chump goin’ to follow her up here. I’ll trow you downstairs.”
“Look out,” said the girl, “Patsy Murphy ain’t no easy thing.”
While this was going on, Patsy was trying hard to figure out how it was that he was known to this girl, whom he did not recollect ever having seen before.
Though the young man was threatening in his manner, he had as yet made no move to attack Patsy.
On his part, though, he was quite anxious to leave the house before any outbreak could occur, yet he saw that such was the position of the young man that if he were to attempt to go downstairs, he could be easily attacked from above and behind.
“Oh, say,” he said, assuming the east-side dialect, “what you chewin’ about? All dere is of it is I saw dis goil on de street, got mashed, and was tryin’ to get de glad hand from her. Well, I’m up against it, dat’s all dere is of it.”
“No, it ain’t,” said the young fellow. “You’re up here after somethin’ else.”
“Honest,” said Patsy.
“Don’t lie.”
Patsy turned on the young fellow shortly and said:
“I’ve given it to you straight. Now don’t come back to me wid dat or I’ll wipe that ugly mug of yours off your face.”
The young fellow staggered back a step and Patsy went on:
“I don’t believe dis goil is any sister of yours. She’s too pretty and you’re too ugly.”
Patsy was playing to get into such a position that he might slip down the stairs without further trouble, all the more as he saw that he had made a point with the girl. But the unexpected happened. The young fellow made a queer sort of a call, which was immediately responded to from several rooms on that floor and, in a moment, two men and three women were in the hall, immediately roused by the young fellow’s declaration that they must smash one of Nick Carter’s kids.
One man, without waiting further, made a rush at Patsy who, in self-defense, was compelled to strike out, which he did with such accuracy that the fellow was knocked backward against one of the women and together they fell to the floor.
The woman thus thrown down began to scream at the top of her voice, in which she was joined by the others, while the two men left, both closed up in an endeavor to rush Patsy at the head of the stairs.
The very thing that Patsy had hoped to escape had occurred. He wanted to get out of the house without it being known to Spike Thomas and Bally Morris that he had followed them in.
He now believed that all this noise on the second floormust attract the attention of those on the third floor and that all that he had hoped to gain had been lost.
He thought this rapidly, and also that there was no use of further trying to quiet the people and that he must defend himself.
So he squared himself to meet the rush of the two young men but, as they began it, the girl, who had first given the alarm that he was Patsy Murphy, threw herself in front of him in an effort to stop the rush of the fellow who said he was her brother, and his companion.
Patsy instantly saw that she was likely to be hurt, and catching her with his right arm about her waist, he quickly put her to one side and, springing forward, struck out with both fists, hitting the brother squarely in the face with his right fist and warding off a blow from the other with his left.
The brother fell to the ground. The other one made a second dash at Patsy.
In the meantime the two women who had come at the call attempted to take a hand, but were opposed by the young girl.
Patsy did not wait for the second attack, but went at the second man hammer and tongs, and soon beat him back to the wall.
Evidently the brother had gotten all that he desired in his first knockdown, for he made no effort to get up from the floor.
The girl swung herself in front of Patsy and said, in a low voice:
“Now’s your chance; git down the stairs.”
Patsy turned and went down the stairs not hurriedly, but watchfully.
He was trying to see if Spike Thomas and Bally Morris had been attracted by the rumpus.
He could see nothing of them, but he could not believe that they had not heard the noise and had not seen him.
However, he reached the street without further interference, and, placing himself in a position where he could watch the door without being seen himself, waited to see the two crooks come from the house.
He had waited for some time, when the girl who had first given the alarm as to himself, and then seemed to act as his friend, came to the door and stood looking about as if for some one.
Patsy laughed to himself as he said:
“Hang me if I don’t think she’s looking for me. I must have jollied her for fair.”
After waiting a few minutes the girl went up the street slowly a few doors, when she stopped and again looked around.
Patsy stepped out of his concealment, and going toward the girl saw her brighten up and nod at him.
“I guess you got me out of a bad scrape,” he said, as he came up to her.
“Oh,” she replied, with a smile, “it wasn’t so bad. They’re only chumps there. You was too much for them. Say, what was you in there for, anyway?”
“To see you,” said Patsy.
“Ah, go on!” cried the girl, with a laugh. “That was only a guy of yours. I saw that and it was a good one. What was you in there for, honest?”
“I’ll give it to yer straight,” said Patsy, “but I don’t want to stand here, for somebody might see me that I don’t want to know me.”
“Come into the candy store, then,” said the girl, leading the way into a little store where candies, cheap toys, newspapers and cigars were sold.
Patsy stood near the door, where he could watch, and said to the girl:
“Yes, I’ll give it to you straight. I have followed two fellows into that house who went up to the third floor, and when you came out of the door I was thinking whether I would go up or go down.”
“What had they been doing?” asked the girl.
“Nothing that I know of,” replied Patsy, with a laugh. “I was wanting to know what they were going to do.”
“Crooks, were they?” asked the girl.
“Friends of mine,” replied Patsy, “and I thought that they were going to do something about a thing I had told them of, leaving me out. I was just following them up to see what they were going to do.”
“Oh! And I interfered,” said the girl.
“Oh, I don’t know. I was going away when you opened the door. What I was afraid of was that the row would let them know that I was after them.”
“I don’t think it did,” said the girl.
“Didn’t anybody come from the third floor?” asked Patsy.
“No,” said the girl.
“Who lives up there?” asked Patsy.
“An old woman and her husband. They have the whole floor. They are very quiet people, but they say when the old woman was young that she was a crook—a shoplifter. But I don’t know.”
All this time Patsy had been keeping a sharp watch on the door of the house in question to see if Spike Thomas and Bally Morris would come from it.
But now, to his astonishment, there suddenly appeared before the door of the store the two men, Spike Thomas and Bally Morris.
They were coming from an entirely different direction—that is to say, from the corner above—and were walking at a gait that was almost a run in their hurry.
Turning to the girl, Patsy said, hurriedly:
“There are my men now, and they’re coming from another way. I’ll see you again soon.”
He dashed out into the street and followed after the two.
The way pursued by the two young men, Thomas and Morris, was straight down the avenue until they reached Forty-second Street, when they hurried up that street to Third Avenue, where, Patsy was certain, they meant to board a car.
On reaching the avenue he put himself in such a position that he could board the same car the two young crooks did.
This he successfully accomplished and rode with them as far as Rivington Street, where they got out and hastily went down that street.
“They’re going to Spike Thomas’ own house,” said Patsy to himself, as he rapidly followed.
He was right, for reaching the tenement house in which Thomas lived, the two crooks hurried upstairs and into one of the rooms.
Patsy had fairly followed them to the door unknown to them and seeing them safely in, he turned and went down the stairs into the street, saying to himself:
“Now, what was it all about? I must lay by to get a chance to talk to Spike when they come out.”
He made his way to a drinking place which he knew to be one of the haunts of Spike and Bally Morris, to wait for them.
The result of the investigation of Chick within the barroom, and of Nick without the house, was to show that there were two entrances to the upper story.
One was by the outside staircase at the rear, which had evidently been used by the four, and the other by a hallway, the door of which was on the avenue.
Nick had tried and found that the door at the front of the house was locked and bolted on the other side.
Chick had found that there was a door at the rear of the barroom which opened into this hall from which a flight of stairs ran up to the second floor.
Chick joined Nick in the cross street near the rear door that led from the street into the barroom. They exchanged their information, and Nick said:
“We will go into the barroom, Chick, and while there I will manage in some way to divert the attention of the barkeeper so that you can slip through that door into the hall and unbolt the front door.
“Our plan shall be that I will enter from the rear and climb those outside stairs while you shall enter the front door, bolt it behind you and bolt the door leading into the barroom. Then going up the stairs from the front, we will take them front and rear.”
Entering the saloon, it did not take Nick long to get the barkeeper so engrossed in conversation that Chick slipped through the door into the hall unseen, unbolted the front door, turning the key he found there so as to unlock it, and was back again in the barroom beside Nick before his absence had been noticed.
Having tipped the wink to Nick that it was all arranged, the two passed out and separated at the door, after having agreed upon a signal that should inform each that they were in their proper places.
Seizing a favorable opportunity when no one was looking, Nick passed the door in the fence and went to the rear of the outside staircase.
He met with a temporary check.
The staircase was closed at the bottom by a door bolted from within.
Having no tools with him and seeing nothing by which he could open the door or force it, he took the chances of being heard and, placing his shoulder against the part where he thought the bolt was—that is to say, just above the lock—he gradually applied his strength until he forced it in.
The door was not strong and, as a matter of fact, gave way quite easily under the pressure he could apply.
Waiting a brief instant to see whether he had attracted attention, and becoming satisfied that he had not, he swung the door back to see that the stairway was covered with a cheap carpet.
Cautiously ascending the steps he found himself on a landing which was below a door closed and, as he quickly found, locked.
A trial of it satisfied him that it was not bolted, and as the lock was of the ordinary kind he had no difficulty in picking it.
In this it differed from the one at the foot of the stairs, which had no keyhole on the outside.
Cautiously opening this door, he found that he was in a small-sized entry—so small, indeed, that it was almost impossible to stand within it, and shut the door again. On his right was another door, which was doubtless always opened before the outer door was closed.
But by dint of squeezing himself into the corner Nick succeeded in closing the door and with his pick relocking it.
Then he cautiously opened the door before him to find that it was a bedroom, and vacant.
Stepping within it lightly, he listened and heard voices in the room in front. There were two doors in this room, one clearly communicating with the front room, and the other, Nick thought, might open into a closet. But, on trying it, he found it opened into the hall of the second story, and saw Chick standing at the head of the stairs waiting to give the signal which should announce his presence there.
Nick beckoned to Chick, who came stealthily to the door.
“They are in that front room on this floor, chief,” said Chick. “There is nobody upstairs, for I have been through that floor. I have barricaded the top of the stairs so they cannot escape that way.”
“All right,” said Nick. “Now take your stand at that door leading from the bedroom. I will leave this door open and when you hear me mew like a cat, burst into the room.”
Chick went to his position and Nick to his.
Nick was about to give the signal, when he heard the voice of Lannigan saying:
“I suppose I’ve got to take it this way.”
“I don’t see how else it is to be done,” said Elwell. “The paper is drawn in such a way as to show that the fifty thousand dollars due you is for value received. You must rely upon me to get the proper acknowledgment of this when you bring the paper to me to-morrow. I will do that and have it properly indorsed by responsible people, who will give a bond for the faithful execution of the requirements of this paper by Seaman. It is the bestI can do. We have had business before together and you have found me a man of my word. That ought to stand for something now.”
“I s’pose it must go,” returned Lannigan, in a doubtful and dissatisfied tone. “I suppose I must take my chance that you’re acting on the level.”
“I’m on the level,” said Seaman. “You wouldn’t want me to bring my bondsman here, would you?”
“Not on your life,” said Lannigan. “Anyhow, I’ll take the chance. I may be done out of the money and you may not make the bond good to-morrow, but if you don’t——”
He stopped talking suddenly and there was a pause that lasted some time. Then Elwell spoke:
“There’s no use of your making such threats as that, Lannigan. They are not pleasant.”
“No,” laughed Lannigan, bitterly, “and they won’t be pleasant for either you or Seaman here, if I carry them out.”
There was another silence, during which there was the rustling of paper. Then Elwell spoke again:
“There, Lannigan, is the paper signed by Seaman and witnessed by me. Bring it to me to-morrow as agreed and I will see that it is acknowledged and the bond given to you.”
“Very well,” said Lannigan. “Now about the five thou.”
“Here it is,” said Seaman.
“Let me count it,” said Lannigan.
“You can see me count it. There are fifty one-hundred-dollar bills here.”
Again there was a brief silence, during which the rustling of paper was heard.
“Hand it over,” said Lannigan. “It’s all right.”
“Produce the goods first,” said Seaman, with a laugh.
“Oh, they’re here all right,” Lannigan said. “I’ll get it.”
Again there was a brief silence, during which the steps of some one across the floor could be heard.
Nick got ready to give the signal, for he believed that the point was at hand when the burst into the room should be made, to find before them the very article that was the object of their search.
“Open it,” said the voice of Seaman, “and let us see that it’s all right.”
Again there was a brief instant of silence, when there was a sudden start, followed by an unusual commotion, cries and oaths, above which rang the voice of Lannigan, crying:
“The game’s up!”
“What trick is this?” cried Seaman, angrily.
“We’ve been robbed!” cried Lannigan and the unknown together.
Seaman laughed loud and bitterly, and said:
“It’s a plant. A dirty plant. Now I suppose you’ll undertake to rob me of this five thousand.”
“Before Heaven!” cried Lannigan, most earnestly, “it’s no plant. I tell you we’ve been robbed and since we left here this afternoon to meet you.”
“Nick Carter!” exclaimed a voice that had not yet been heard in all the talk.
“Do you think so?” asked Elwell.
“Who else? Who knew of it being here but Lannigan and I,” said the same voice.
“Has everything been taken out?” asked Elwell.
“Every blessed scrap of paper,” replied Lannigan. “And a lot of newspapers put in their place.”
“Lannigan,” said Elwell, “I believe that both you and your friend are square in this matter. I believe that you have really been robbed. This makes it all the moreserious. For we now do not know in whose hands they are.”
“Nick Carter’s, I tell you!” exclaimed the strange voice again.
“Perhaps,” said Elwell. “If they are, then we are all of us done.”
“Beat to a finish,” said Seaman.
“He’ll die for it if he has swiped them,” almost shouted Lannigan, wild in his anger.
“Pshaw!” exclaimed Elwell. “You may think yourself a bad man, Lannigan; but you had better keep out of the way of Nick Carter. If he has tracked that case here and got possession of the things within it, the next thing will be that he’ll have the handcuffs on you. He fears no mortal man and he has captured single-handed half a dozen men, each one worse than you. But I don’t think Nick Carter has got those papers.”
“Why?”
“Let me ask you first, whether when you last saw these, they were all in this case and the case locked?”
“Yes; every blessed paper and the models as well.”
“Well, then, if Nick Carter had entered the room in search of that case and had found it, he would not have stopped to take the things out and substitute papers in their place, but would have taken out of the house the case and all.”
“That’s sense,” said Seaman.
“Let me ask you another question,” said Elwell. “Did any one besides Seaman and myself know that you had this case and its contents?”
“No—stop—yes—hold on! It’s not quite that way. There are two men who thought we had it. They thought we had cracked that crib in Thirty-fifth Street and, that being so, they knew that we had the case. Butwe never let on to them that we did the job. They only thought so.”
“Who are those men?” asked Elwell.
“Never you mind who they are,” said Lannigan, ferociously. “Before the lights go out to-night, I’ll know whether they’ve got that case, or what was in it, or I’ll have their lives.”
Again there was silence of speech, but there was a movement as if the party had risen to their feet.
Nick slipped to the open door leading into the hall and, beckoning to Chick, said to him when they met:
“Did you hear?”
“Plainly.”
“The drawings have disappeared.”
“Yes. There’s no use of making a raid now.”
“You’re right; get out of the house by the front way as quick as you can and get on the watch. I’ll go down by the way I came.”
Chick slipped down the stairs and out of the front door, while Nick, crossing the bedroom, picked the lock of the outer door again, closed the door leading into the bedroom behind him, closed the outer door and locked it, and slipped down the outer stairs and so into the street, where he went into concealment to watch for the men to come out.
He did not wait long before Elwell and Seaman came down the stairs, passed out of the door in the fence and went up the street to Third Avenue and disappeared at the corner.
“No use to follow them,” muttered Nick, “for I can find them when I want them.”
It was a longer wait, however, for the other two, and Nick was made aware of their coming by a string of oaths from inside the fence which he knew to be from Lannigan.
Straining his ears he found that Lannigan was swearing over the door at the foot of the stairs.
He was attributing the broken door to the thieves who had robbed him, assuming that that was the way in which they had gotten in.
To have heard him swear and talk one would have supposed that he was an honest man and there had never been such an outrage before, or so dishonest a thing, as that of robbing him of what he had robbed Mr. Herron.
Nick, laughing at this, nevertheless by a long whistle gave Chick the signal to be on the alert, as their birds were coming.
The next instant Lannigan and the unknown stepped out into the street and hurried in the direction of Third Avenue.
Nick hung back, fearing that he was known by one or both of the two, and signaled to Chick to take up the shadow.
Chick promptly appeared at the corner and, seeing the two men now pretty nearly at the other end of the block, hurried along past Nick and heard Nick say that he would follow behind him.
Thus the four went to Third Avenue, where the two men, Lannigan and the unknown, boarded a street car.
A coach and pair stood at the corner, and Nick, calling to Chick, sprang in after telling the driver he should have double fare if he kept the passing car in sight.
It was a somewhat difficult matter, but when Thirty-fourth Street was reached they were near enough for Nick to see Lannigan and the unknown descend from the car and go down Thirty-fourth Street.
“They are going to the place Patsy told about,” said Chick.
“Then,” said Nick, “they are looking after the two Patsy calls his assistants.”
“Spike Thomas and Bally Morris?”
“Yes. And——”
“They are the two Lannigan suspects of robbing him,” quickly put in Chick.
“That is the only conclusion.”
All this time Nick and Chick had been rapidly following the two down Thirty-fourth Street.
Reaching the last block they drew aside to watch the two, and saw them searching every one of the numerous saloons on that block without finding, apparently, what they sought for.
Having found nothing, they retraced their steps and again hurried in the direction of Third Avenue.
As they stepped out, Nick said to Chick:
“They have not found their men here and are going to try somewhere else.”
Then they set out to follow.
It was some time before Patsy’s patience in waiting in the saloon he knew to be the hang-out of Spike Thomas was rewarded.
But at length Spike and Bally Morris made their appearance, and on seeing Patsy went over to him, and said:
“I say, cull,” was Spike’s greeting, “get out of here with us to another joint, where we can patter a bit.”
Without knowing why they wanted to go to another place, nevertheless he got up willingly and followed them out into the street.
Spike led them to a place in Bond Street, not far from the Bowery, and evidently one which he knew only from the outside.
“Yer see, cull,” he said, “I don’t know much about dis place, but it’s quiet, and there’ll be no mix-up wid de rounders and de culls.”
“What are you wanting to hide for, Spike?” asked Patsy.
“Oh, there’s nothin’ doin’,” said Spike. “Only I want to talk to you about de things you was puttin’ up to me dis morning.”
“Well, what of it?” said Patsy.
“Didn’t you say,” said Spike, “dat there was some dollars for me if I could get something for you?”
“Yes,” replied Patsy, “that’s what I said.”
“You said it was a leather case, with somethin’ into it what you wanted; ain’t dat right?”
“See here, Spike,” said Patsy, “what are you getting to?”
“I want to git dem dollars you was talkin’ about,” said Spike. “Dere’s been nothin’ doin’ for me dis long time, and I’m broke. So if you give me de right steer, I’m goin’ for dem dollars.”
“Well,” said Patsy, “all there is of it is that a leather case, with some things in it, was taken out of that house in Thirty-fifth Street last night. The man from whom it was taken will put up good money to have it back.”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Herron, and he lives in that house.”
“What does he do downtown?”
“Oh, he’s a broker or something in Broad Street.”
“Say, I want ter git de rights of dis,” said Spike, in a businesslike way.
“I’m givin’ it ter you as much as I know.”
“Well, what was in de case? Money, checks? What?”
“Why,” said Patsy, “as I understand it, it was some drawings and a model of a new invention, which is valuable.”
“Well, wasn’t his nibs tryin’ to rob the inventor of it?” asked Spike, shrewdly.
“The inventor is dead,” said Patsy, wondering where Spike got all his knowledge from.
“Den it was his widder?” said Spike.
“See here, Spike,” said Patsy, “what is this you’re givin’ me? What I know is that Mr. Herron paid the widder his good money for those things, and that they were stolen from him. Now, Spike, it was you who put it into my head from the first that a swell cracksman from Philadelphia, Lannigan, cracked the crib and took that case.”
“Dat’s right,” repeated Spike.
“Then you give it me that when you ran against Lannigan he wouldn’t cough up and let you in.”
“Dat’s right,” repeated Spike.
“Now I’m goin’ to speak a little piece,” said Patsy. “Spike, you have seen Lannigan since I saw you last, and you’ve got into the job.”
“You’re away off, Patsy,” said Spike.
“I don’t think I am,” said Patsy. “Lannigan has let you into the job, and you’re tryin’ to pump me as to who will give up the best for that case.”
“Oh, yer away off, Patsy,” repeated Spike; “ain’t he, Bally?”
The crook turned to the other one for confirmation of his words, which was readily given.
“Mebbe I am,” replied Patsy, “but if it isn’t that, what is your little game?”
“I am just tryin’ to loin a little somet’in’ to see if I can’t work dat bloke, Lannigan, for a show at dem dollars.”
All this seemed to be very plausible on the part of Spike, and was said with a very frank manner.
But Patsy was not deceived. He knew something had occurred since he had last seen Spike, but just what it was he was not able to tell.
“Well, Spike,” he said, after a few moments’ thought, “it all comes back to what I told you in the beginning. There’s one man who’ll give up more for those papers than any one else, and to get them back I don’t think he’ll ask any questions.”
“Dat’s de point,” said Spike. “I was wantin’ to know what kind of a hole I was gettin’ meself into if I did get me hooks on those papers and go talkin’ to his nibs about ’em.”
Patsy thought rapidly. He began to believe that the crook already had the papers in his possession, or that he was in a position to obtain them whenever he could drive a proper bargain with those who would pay for their return.
Recalling that Ida had been told by Nick that she must try to get on terms of good standing with Mrs. Pemberton, the widow of the inventor, a bright idea struck him.
It was ten o’clock in the morning when Ida had received her orders from Nick, and it was now nearly six o’clock in the evening. Such was Patsy’s faith in Ida that he actually believed by this time Ida was installed as a member of Mrs. Pemberton’s family.
Seeing that Spike was reluctant to go to Mr. Herron, it occurred to Patsy that, having possession of the papers, as he believed, or knowing how he could get possession of them, something Spike would not admit to Patsy, Spike could be more easily persuaded to go to the widow with them. Then if he, Patsy, were to notify Ida of the intended call, they would be in a pretty fair position to recover the papers.
Acting on this thought, Patsy said:
“Of course, Spike, my boss is working for Herron. I am working for my boss, so I’m workin’ for Herron, too. Now, if you can get your hooks on that case, or what’s in it, and you don’t want to tackle Herron, why not tackle my boss.”
“What?” cried Spike, in horror. “Tackle Nick Carter? Nit, nit, Pauline.”
“Well, then, if that don’t suit you,” said Patsy, “I’ll give you another steer. The widder will put up for them papers, and put up big.”
“Now, you’re shouting,” said Spike. “Dat’s de lay. Now, where is she?”
“Her name is Pemberton, but you can’t get to her before ten o’clock to-morrow morning,” said Patsy, anxious to get enough time to notify Ida and to let her arrange for the part she was to play in the matter.
He was thoughtful a moment or two, and then he said:
“If you can work the Lannigan end, Spike,” he said, “you come to me to-morrow morning at nine o’clock and I’ll give you the place where Mrs. Pemberton lives; and, say, Spike, if you pull it off, you ought to do something square with me for putting you on and giving you the straight steer.”
“Sure,” said Spike. “Dere ain’t nothin’ in de hull shootin’ match dat I didn’t get from youse. I’ll give yer a whack if I pulls anything off.”
Patsy now believed that he had gotten from Spike all that was possible, and that he had laid a train in which Spike could be used which would lead to good results, and he was anxious to get away and hunt up Nick to report to him what he had done.
Seeking the best excuse he could, he left the two and went over to the Bowery.
In doing so, his purpose was to take one of the uptown lines of cars and then cross to the west side, but on reaching the corner of Bond Street, and the Bowery, he saw some one on the opposite side of the street that looked to him very much like the one he had seen on the corner of Thirty-fourth Street and who the Chicago detective had told him was Lannigan.
The distance across the Bowery at that point was long, and he hurried across it in order to be certain that he was right.
He had so crossed the Bowery as to come up behind Lannigan, and as he stepped up on the sidewalk a hand was laid on his shoulder.
He turned and saw Chick.
“What is it, youngster?” asked Chick.
“Are you following that man?” asked Patsy.
“Lannigan? Yes.”
“Then, it is Lannigan?” asked Patsy.
“Yes,” replied Chick. “But where are your men?”
“Over here in a saloon nearby.”
“Lannigan is looking for them,” said Chick.
“The deuce! What for?”
“To put holes in them,” laughed Chick.
“What does he want to do that for?” asked Patsy.
“He thinks they stole that case of the drawings from him,” said Chick.
“Say!” exclaimed Patsy, “where’s the chief?”
“He’s right here,” said Chick.
“Here!” said Patsy. “Show me where he is—quick!”
Seeing that Patsy was unusually earnest, Chick gave the signal, which brought Nick into sight in an instant. As he came up Chick said:
“Patsy’s got something on his mind and wants to talk.”
“Chick, you keep your eye on Lannigan, and I’ll see what Patsy has to say,” returned Nick.
He then turned to Patsy, asking what had excited him.
“Well,” said Patsy, “I hardly know where to begin, but I’ve been following Spike Thomas and Bally Morris all day. I’ve been thinking that Spike had put up a job with Lannigan to get the most money he could for those drawings, but Chick tells me that Lannigan has been robbed of them that he thinks Spike did it.”
“Well, Patsy,” said Nick, “tell me the whole story and we’ll see how it fits in with what we know.”
Patsy then recited to Nick all that had occurred between himself, Spike and Bally Morris, from the time they had met in Thirty-fourth Street up to the time they had been traced by him to Avenue A, their brief disappearance, the row he had had in the house in Avenue A, the surprising appearance of the two from a direction he least expected them, his tracing them to Spike’s home, with the subsequent interview which he had just had with Spike in the saloon in Bond Street.
Patsy told this rapidly, but clearly, and Nick was an attentive listener.
On his part, Nick related to Patsy all that had occurred from the time they had parted on the corner of Forty-second Street and Third Avenue, including, of course, the astonishing theft from Lannigan of the contents of the leather case, concluding with the statement that Chick and he had followed Lannigan in the belief that the cracksman was hunting for Spike Thomas and Bally Morris.
It did not take long for these two bright-minded people to fit in the two stories into a complete whole.
“It’s all straight as a whistle, chief,” said Patsy. “Lannigan threw Spike down. Spike, from what he had learned from me, made up his mind that he would rob Lannigan of that case. To get on a track of him and know what he was doing and when he was out of his room, was what he was laying on the corner of Forty-second Street and Third Avenue for. Just as soon as he saw Lannigan with your men, the two of them scampered off to Avenue A.”
Here Nick stopped Patsy to make sure by inquiry that there was no mistake as to the locality that both had tracked their people to on Avenue A. That being settled to the satisfaction of both as being the same, Patsy went on:
“Between the time I saw them go into the house where I had that row, and when I saw them coming down in such a hurry, they had got into Lannigan’s apartments and swiped those papers. I’ll bet my stockings, chief, that all those things are in Spike’s rooms now, down here in Rivington Street.”
“I think that is about the size of it,” said Nick. “But that is a good job that you have put up to send Spike with the things to Mrs. Pemberton. Mrs. Pembertonhas recently got some sense, and believes that Elwell is trying to do her. Ida is in a position to get close to her, and I think, after all, that is the best way to handle it.”
“Yet we might get them quicker by making a raid on Spike’s rooms,” said Patsy.
“And we might lose them all, too. The first thing we’ve got to do, Patsy, is to take care of Spike, for if Lannigan meets him there will be trouble to pay, if there is not a dead Spike.”
“Then,” said Patsy, “I’d better hunt up Spike and warn him to keep out of Lannigan’s way, although I think that’s what he’s doing now.”
He turned to cross the Bowery, but, in doing so, saw both Spike and Bally Morris crossing diagonally toward the drinking saloon which was Spike’s hang-out.
Without saying a word to Nick, he darted off to intercept Spike, while Nick hurried along toward the corner.
As Nick approached the corner he saw Lannigan rush across the sidewalk in the direction from which Spike Thomas and Bally Morris were approaching.
Chick was in close pursuit, and Lannigan seemed to be pulling at his pocket as if trying to draw a revolver.
Nick also sprang in pursuit, and so it was that as Spike and Bally approached, all unconscious of the danger they were in, three from different points were approaching to their rescue.
It was no part of Nick’s plans to have Spike put out of the way at a time when he could be most useful to him.
As Lannigan left the sidewalk, reaching the roadway, he brought his revolver out, being then not more than twenty feet from Spike.
But, as he lifted his revolver to fire, Chick sprang on his back, and at the same instant Nick was beside Lannigan, seizing his revolver arm.
In the meantime, Patsy had reached the two young crooks and in the most energetic manner had ordered them to drop.
However, the danger was over, for Lannigan was in the hands of two men, and was a child in strength compared with either one of them.
By the time Nick had taken the revolver from Lannigan and forced him back to the sidewalk, Spike and Bally had taken to their heels, closely followed by Patsy.
Nick had now no doubt, as a result of the investigations of the day, that Lannigan and the one they had came to call the Unknown were the ones who had robbed Mr. Herron’s house, but it was not in his plans yet to make an arrest—not, at all events, until after the papers and drawings Nick had been retained to recover were in their hands. Nor was it in his plans to let Lannigan know that he had been interfered with by Nick Carter, if he did not then know it. So he said:
“You must be a fool, to try and shoot a man in daylight like this. You want to thank your stars that there was somebody here to stop you. Now, get away quick, before a policeman comes, or you’ll be nipped as it is.”
Lannigan looked at him with a malignant glance, but, making no reply, turned and walked up the Bowery.
Nick signaled Chick not to lose sight of him, and he himself went off to find Ida and post her as to the part she was to play when Spike opened up his negotiations with the widow for the return of the precious drawings.
Patsy followed Spike Thomas and Bally Morris in their mad run from the vengeance of Lannigan.
His purpose was not so much to protect them as it was to get an explanation of a matter which puzzled him.
He was now convinced that Spike Thomas and his companion had entered the apartments of Lannigan and had stolen the drawings and models.
But what puzzled him was when it was done.
The two had been under his eyes almost continuously all day, and it vexed him to think that it should have been done without his even suspecting it.
He soon caught up with the flying crooks and followed them into a small saloon in the neighborhood of Chatham Square.
Both Spike and Morris had been badly frightened by the attack made on them by Lannigan, but when they realized that they were safe from pursuit, and that Lannigan’s murderous assault had been prevented by Nick Carter and his aids, their courage returned.
Their cunning, as well as their desire to profit by their theft, led them to conceal or deny the theft.
In view of the fact that Lannigan had made a vicious attack upon them, they could no longer maintain the story they had given Patsy that they had entered into an arrangement with Lannigan by which they could negotiate the return of the papers for him.
This troubled Spike somewhat in his talk with Patsy, but, by some skillful lying, he got up a story that somebody had been fooling Lannigan with the tale that he and Morris were going to sell him out.
His cunning and, perhaps, fear of Lannigan, led him to deny the theft from Lannigan’s rooms.
“See here, Spike,” said Patsy, “you may lie as much as you want to, but I know that you got into Lannigan’s rooms and took those papers and models. I know when you did it, and I saw you coming away from there.”
Both the young crooks looked at Patsy curiously, but without replying.
They did not know how much Patsy really knew, and they had convinced themselves that they had made the entry into Lannigan’s rooms unknown to any one but themselves.
“Now,” continued Patsy, “you can keep up your lying if it will do you any good. You ain’t level with me when you don’t give me the game, after me putting you on. I’m going to know all about it, and you can’t stop me. The only thing is now, are you goin’ to throw me on the deal or not.”
“Goin’ to throw nothin’,” said Spike. “Say, how much do you t’ink I ought to strike de old dame for, if I can make de deal?”
Patsy could hardly restrain a smile, for in this question Spike was admitting what he had been denying, and that was the possession of the drawings and models. He did not appear to notice it, however, and replied:
“Strike her for twelve thousand dollars.”
“Gee whiz!” exclaimed both Spike and Bally in a breath.
When they had recovered a little from their astonishment, Spike asked:
“Will de old dame stand a strike of such big figures?”
“Sure,” replied Patsy.
In view of the fact that Lannigan had struck Seamanfor fifty-five thousand dollars, as Nick had told Patsy, the surprise of the two young crooks over the sum named by Patsy showed clearly to the lad that there was no relation at all existing between Spike and Lannigan, if he had needed such a showing.
However, he got up, saying:
“You’re going to work the racket on the dame to-morrow?”
“Sure,” replied Spike.
“Then you’ll come to me for the number and street of her house at nine to-morrow morning?”
“Sure.”
Patsy did not like the tone and the manner of the crook, and he stood still a moment, looking sternly into the eyes of Spike, and said:
“Spike, if you round on me, I’ll spoil your game. I’ll do more; I’ll put you in the jug. You have got no right to throw me down, for I put you next in this game, and I saved your life this afternoon. If you throw me down it’ll be the worst day’s work you ever did for yourself.”
He turned from the table at which the two crooks were sitting, and walked out of the saloon without another word or turning to see the effects of his words.
Patsy was intent on filling up the gap in the story of the day, which was complete and connected except as to the taking of the drawings and the models from Lannigan’s rooms.
That this had been done by Spike Thomas and Bally Morris there was no doubt in the minds of any one having knowledge of the affair. But, after all, it was, at best, suspicion.
Leaving the saloon in which the two young crooks had hidden themselves from Lannigan, Patsy took the elevated railroad train to Forty-second Street.
Leaving the train here, he went immediately to AvenueA, and to the block where he had had his “row,” as he called it.
His intention was, if possible, to find or to account for the disappearance of the two crooks from the house into which he had followed them.
It was his good fortune that, as he passed the door of that house, that he should see in the doorway the girl whose alarm had been the cause of the row in the house.
She recognized him as quickly, and stepped forward to greet him.
“Say,” she said, “was them two fellows that you trotted after this afternoon, when you was chinnin’ with me, the two you followed into our house?”
“Yes,” said Patsy. “It gave me the jumps when I saw ’em coming down from the corner when I thought they were in the house yet.”
“Are dey crooks?” asked the girl.
“That’s what they are,” replied Patsy.
“Well, say,” said the girl, “I can give you a steer. Dem fellers was upstairs on de floor above us when we had dat scrap in de hall. But dey climbed de ladder to de roof when de scrap was goin’ on and got away.”
“How do you know that?” asked Patsy, eagerly.
“Me little sister, who was up dere on dat floor, seen ’em do it. She tole me just after you run away so sudden.”
The whole thing then burst upon Patsy. Everything was explained to him. The two crooks, taking advantage of the row going on on the floor below, had climbed to the roof, and, making their way over the other houses to the corner, had descended into the apartments of Lannigan through the scuttle of the corner house.
What had been mysterious to him was now as plain as day.
He looked along of the houses on the street, to see that there was no break in them to the corner, and said:
“Do you know the store on the corner?”
“The saloon? Sure.”
“You ever go in there?”
“Sometimes,” said the girl.
“If you’ll go there with me now, I’ll blow you off.”
The girl without a word turned, and the two walked up to the corner and entered the place by the rear door.
“Say,” said Patsy, “that brother of yours will be wanting to put up another fight if he finds me here with you again.”
The girl laughed merrily, and replied:
“Oh, he’s a great chewer, but there’s more in his bark than there is in his bite. He ain’t around now, for he’s trotting after his own rag. Anyhow, after the way you put him on de floor dis afternoon, he won’t want to chew wid you any more.”
It was clear that Patsy’s compliments of the afternoon had won the girl’s favor, and the manner in which he had defended himself when attacked, her admiration.
This Patsy saw, and he determined to take advantage of it.
“Say,” he said, “do you know the people here?”
“Yep; he’s a nice man what keeps dis place.”
“Is he straight?”
“Straight as a die.”
“Then this isn’t a hang-out for crooks?” asked Patsy.
“Naw. He won’t have dem around. Dere’s lots of dem on dese corners, but he won’t have dem here.”
Patsy was silent a moment as he thought over a plan which had entered his head. Then he said:
“Call him here and tell him who I am. I want to ask him something.”
The girl did so, and the proprietor, a rather rough-looking but honest man, came to him.
“Mike,” said the girl, “this is me frien’, Patsy Murphy.”
“Not Nick Carter’s man?” said the one called Mike, extending his hand.
“De same,” said the girl, proudly.
The man looked doubtfully between the two and asked:
“How’d you get in wid him, den?”
“Oh, we got acquainted dis afternoon,” replied the girl, tossing her head.
“I heard something about it,” said the saloon-keeper; “will yer have a drink?”
“No,” said Patsy, “but I wish you would answer me some questions. Do you know that there was a robbery in this house this afternoon?”
“I heard something about it,” said the saloon-keeper, “but I don’t know anything about it.”
“There was,” said Patsy, “and from the floor above.”
“I heard a little about it,” said the man, “but I’ve nothing to do with the people upstairs.”
“Then you don’t have the whole house?” asked Patsy.
“No, I only rent this store.”
“Do you know anything about the man who lives upstairs—the one who was robbed?”
“No; he never comes in here, and he rented the two floors above from the same man I rent this store. He’s only been here about six weeks or two months.”
“Well,” said Patsy, “I think I know pretty well who did the job. I think I know how they got into the house.”
“Oh, that’s clear enough,” said the saloon man. “They broke in that stairway door in the rear and picked the lock of the upper door.”
“I don’t think so,” replied Patsy; “in fact, I knowthey didn’t break the door in, for I know how that was done. But, I would like to get up to the top part of this house to see if I can find traces of the way I think they did get in.”
“How was that?”
“Through that scuttle,” said Patsy.
“There’s nothin’ to stop your goin’ up there,” said the man. “There ain’t nobody up there now, for the two men livin’ there are out. If you should go out of that door opening into the hall, nobody would shoot you for doing it.”
Patsy got up and said:
“I’ll try it.”
“And I’ll go with you,” said the man.
“And so will I,” said the girl.
Thus followed, Patsy mounted the stairs to the top floor and, reaching the hall on the top of the house, soon found the scuttle-hole in the roof.
But there were no steps or ladder leading to it.
Looking about, he saw a broken wooden chair in the corner and, bringing it into the light, saw that the fracture of the top of the back was a fresh one. The scuttle-hole was close to the wall and, looking at the wall directly under it, he saw marks on it which indicated that the chair had been placed against the wall and used as a means of reaching the scuttle.
He put the chair at that place and saw that the chair and the marks fitted.
Mounting the chair, he found that the scuttle cover was loose, and had not been precisely fitted when it was put on.
A mere pressure of the hand slid the scuttle aside and, making a spring, he caught the upper edges of the scuttle-hole with his hands and drew himself so that his head was above the roof.
Immediately his attention was attracted to a piece of paper clinging to the chimney nearby.
He clambered through the hole and, going to the chimney, found that it was a small piece of that kind of paper known as tracing paper, used by draftsmen.
On it was a drawing of what was apparently machinery.
He jumped to the conclusion that it was a part of the missing drawings that had been searched for all day.
Thrusting it in his pocket, he returned to the scuttle-hole and let himself drop down to the floor as he had supposed Spike and Bally had done.
Remounting the chair he placed the scuttle cover in position again and put the chair back where he had found it.
Turning to the two who had been silently waiting, he said:
“I’m satisfied. That’s the way those fellows got into the house. They went into the house in which this girl lived, got out on to the roof from the scuttle of that house, crossed over and came down this way. They did not go down that way, but went out to the street down the stairs and through the front door.”
“You’re right,” cried the saloon man. “That accounts for the bolts being off the front door.”
Patsy smiled, but made no reply, yet he thought that the bolts were off because Chick had taken them off when he went out of the house.
The little party returned to the barroom and, after Patsy had spent a little time in making himself agreeable to the girl, whose friendliness had given him the clew to the manner in which the two young crooks had gotten into the house, he went away.