While Patsy was on this search, Chick had been following Lannigan, whose movements about the city seemed to be marked by neither purpose nor intention.
Nevertheless, Chick kept close at his heels.
Nick had found Ida, and from her had learned that she had had another talk with Mrs. Pemberton, and had convinced her that Elwell, the lawyer, whom she had trusted so much, was playing her false.
The principal thing to bring her into that frame of mind was the belief that he had taken the $10,000 check which Mr. Herron had given her from the drawings and models of her husband, with the intention of cheating her out of it.
She was now quite certain that she had done wrong, and was willing to carry out the intentions of her husband and deal with Mr. Herron, as the unsigned articles of agreement provided.
Nick had sought Ida with a view of preparing her for the visit of Spike the next morning.
He had intended to let Ida arrange with Mrs. Pemberton for this, and meant that Ida should, as Mrs. Pemberton, receive Spike.
This was in accordance with the job that Patsy had put up. And finding that Mrs. Pemberton had changed her position entirely in regard to Mr. Herron, he proposed to Ida that he should go with her to Mrs. Pemberton at once, and tell her all that had occurred during the day, and thus show to her the kind of people into whose hands she had fallen.
This was done, and Mrs. Pemberton, under the showing of Nick, saw clearly that her only hope of receiving any profit from her late husband’s work was first in the recovery of the papers of Mr. Herron, and secondly through Mr. Herron.
Becoming convinced of this, she was not only willing but eager to assist in carrying out the plans which Patsy had formed and which had been approved and adopted by Nick.
So it was arranged that when Spike called, Ida, made up for, and pretending to be, Mrs. Pemberton, should receive and dicker with Spike.
That there should be no hitch in this programme, Ida remained in Mrs. Pemberton’s house over night.
It was Nick’s purpose to be in the house also in the morning so that if, as a consequence of those negotiations, Spike brought the drawings, he could seize them.
The matter being thus arranged, Nick returned to his home.
The next morning, before Patsy was fairly dressed, Spike Thomas, followed by Bally Morris, burst into his room in a state of wild excitement and rage.
A glance of Patsy’s was sufficient to assure him that both Spike and Bally were more than half drunk.
They were so excited that for a moment neither could speak, but stood gasping in an effort. Finally Spike blurted out:
“We’ve been robbed.”
Patsy turned sharply on him and said:
“Not of the drawings and models?”
“Yes, de same!”
Patsy’s disappointment was great, but, checking himself, he said, with forced calmness:
“Tell me all about it.”
It was not so easy for the two crooks, and they begansuch a mixture of oaths, assertions and contradictions of each other that Patsy was forced to stop them; and, telling Morris to be quiet and not say a word, instructed Spike to tell the tale.
Under his statement, it appeared that, being afraid of Lannigan, they had kept away all night, not alone from their usual haunts, but from their homes. They had spent the night in obscure, and, to them, strange places, drinking.
When daylight had come, and they thought it safe to venture into the part of the city where they lived, they had gone to Spike’s rooms to get the drawings and models here hidden away, with the intention of carrying them to a place where they could easily get them if the bargaining with Mrs. Pemberton turned out as Patsy had assured them it would.
But, on reaching that room, the drawings and models were not in the place where they had been deposited.
They had made a most exhaustive search of the room without a discovery or a trace of them, and, having roused up everybody in the house, had pushed their inquiries without receiving any information as to the disappearance of the drawings.
But they had learned that one of the tenants in the house, at a late hour in the previous night, had seen two men enter Spike Thomas’ rooms, supposing one of them to be Spike Thomas.
As neither Spike Thomas nor Bally Morris had been near the rooms during the night, the conclusion was that somebody had entered for the purpose of stealing those drawings and models, and had obtained them.
That was the whole story, although it was garnished with oaths and guesses and charges.
Patsy at once formed an idea as to who those thieves were, but he made no remark to Bally Morris or Spike.
Sending them away, with instructions to hold themselves in readiness to obey any call that he might make on them, he hurriedly finished his dressing and went to the room of Chick, who had quarters in the same house.
Rapping on Chick’s door, he received, however, no response.
The door was locked, and, as Chick was a light sleeper, Patsy felt that Chick was not within his room. In his own room there was a key to Chick’s, as there was in Chick’s a key to his, that each might enter the other’s room when necessity required.
Obtaining that key and entering the room, Patsy saw at a glance that Chick had not occupied it during the night.
“Holy smoke!” he said aloud, to himself, “I don’t like the looks of this. I must tell the chief.”
Dashing downstairs into the street, Patsy went to a drug store where there was a telephone that he frequently used, and obtained communication with Nick at his home.
Telling his chief what had occurred, the third theft of the papers, he also said that Chick had not returned to his room during the night.
“Chief,” said Patsy, over the wire, “I’m going to try and pick up track of Chick.”
“Where?” asked Nick.
“I shall strike Rivington and the Bowery first, then Thirty-fourth Street, and then Forty-second Street.”
“Right,” replied Nick. “Stay about the Bowery and Rivington until I get over there. I shall come over at once.”
Patsy hurried over to the Bowery, and sought the corner of Rivington Street, where the first thing that attracted his attention was a red chalk mark on the pavement.
Many feet had passed over the mark since it had beenmade, and it required close observation to discover its meaning.
Finally, Patsy determined that it had been made the evening before, and that it was a notice to himself and the chief that Chick was on the shadow, and going up the Bowery.
He crossed to the upper side of the street, and there found another mark, so dim, however, that he could not tell what its meaning was, but the indication seemed to be still pointing up the Bowery.
He went to the next corner, and there found another mark. This was plainer, and still indicated that Chick was going up the Bowery.
“These are last night’s marks,” said Patsy to himself. “If he has kept it up all night, we must get to him in time.”
He pursued his inquiries up the Bowery as far as the old armory, and there, seeing that the marks still tended to the north, returned to Rivington Street to meet the chief.
Arriving on that corner, he found Nick awaiting him.
It did not take the two long to exchange the additional information that had been gained by each since they had parted.
“You have been right from the beginning in this matter, Patsy,” said Nick.
“The two men who stole those papers from Lannigan’s room were Spike Thomas and Bally Morris. They carried them to Spike’s rooms and hid them away there. Still, I yet think we followed the proper course.”
“But the question now is,” said Patsy, “who has got the papers now, and who were the third thieves?”
“Who does Spike think were the thieves?” asked Nick.
“He thinks they are two young toughs who live in thesame house, and who saw them stowing away these things.”
“Do you believe that?” said Nick.
“Not hardly,” said Patsy, emphatically.
“Neither do I,” replied Nick, quietly. “But our business now is to find Chick and learn what he has been doing all night.”
Patsy laughed as he looked up at Nick, saying:
“I think that’s the straight road to the papers.”
The two now hurried up the Bowery to its end to pick up the trail Chick had left behind him.
Arriving at the last mark Patsy had observed, they soon discovered that the next one led them up Third Avenue, and, following them, which grew plainer as they proceeded, they were carried to Thirty-fourth Street, where the marks indicated that Chick had passed to the east.
But as they turned to go down that street, Patsy dashed across the street to look at something tied to the rail of the steps leading to the elevated railroad station.
It was a string of yellow cotton cloth.
Carefully examining the pavement, he ran up and down a short distance, like a dog getting the scent, and then, stepping to the curbstone, vigorously beckoned to Nick to come to him.
“Chick has been down Thirty-fourth Street,” he said, “and back again to go up Third Avenue. A sign on the elevated railroad station rail gives us the tip.”
Nick nodded, and the two hurried up Third Avenue.
“This trail will lead us to Forty-second Street, chief,” said Patsy, as they hurried along.
But he had hardly gotten the words out of his mouth when they struck a mark on the sidewalk that sent them down the side street to the east.
It was a change of direction for which neither was prepared.
They did not expect to see any other mark until they reached the corner below, but in the center of the block they came on another which indicated a stop, and a little farther on another sign showing that the chase had been continued.
Looking about, they found that they were directly in front of a livery stable.
One of the stablemen threw open the great doors as they looked. Instantly Nick sprang inside, closely followed by Patsy, and went to a carriage standing on the floor, travel stained, the wheels covered with dust and mud.
On the hind axle was loosely tied a bit of yellow cotton cloth, to which he directed Patsy’s attention.
Turning to the man who had followed them, Nick said:
“That carriage has been out nearly all night?”
“Well, is it any business of yours?” replied the stableman, in a surly tone.
“Answer my question,” sternly demanded Nick.
“Didn’t know that you asked the question,” replied the man.
“Has that carriage been out over night?” asked Nick, in a calm, icy voice.
The man was overawed, and replied that it had been out all night, not getting back until after daylight.
“Did you drive the coach?” asked Nick.
“No; the man who drove it has just gone to lie down.”
“Go call him.”
“What for?”
“Because I tell you. I’m Nick Carter.”
The man started on hearing this, and went to the rear of the floor, where a man was lying on some carriage cushions which he had piled up in the corner.
Nick and Patsy had followed, and Nick said to the man:
“Don’t get up, but answer a few questions of mine. You had a party out last night. How many were there of that party?”
“Two.”
“What did they look like?”
The man laughed, and replied:
“Hard to tell. They changed their looks two or three times.”
“Where did they go?”
“One man came here first and hired the coach,” said the man, “and he was a black-haired, black-eyed man. Then he drove up to Forty-second Street and Avenue A, where he took in another man. Then they drove down to the Bowery and into Fourth Street, where they left the coach and told me to wait for them. They staked me to wait until they came back.
“It was near daylight when the second one came to me and, getting in the coach, went down to the corner of Rivington Street.
“Waiting there ten minutes, the first one came up running, jumped into his coach with something in his hands, and told me to drive like the devil up Fourth Avenue.
“When we got as far as Twenty-third Street, they stopped me, gave me a twenty-dollar bill, and went off down Twenty-third Street to Third Avenue.
“I drove home.”
“Were you followed by anybody?”
“Yes,” replied the man, with a look of surprise. “There was a coach that stuck close to us all night.”
“Did the men you were riding know it?”
“No,” replied the man. “A fellow came out of the other coach when I was in Fourth Street and told mehe’d break my head if I let the other fellows know that he was following—and he meant it, too.”
Patsy laughed.
“It wasn’t anything to laugh about,” said the man. “If you’d seen him, you wouldn’t have laughed.”
Nick was satisfied the man had nothing more to tell, and he turned away, followed by Patsy, to whom he said, as he walked across the floor of the carriage-room:
“Chick tied that cloth on the axle in a chance that we might run up against it during the night.”
“No doubt of that,” said Patsy. “Where now?”
“To Twenty-third Street and Fourth Avenue,” replied Nick. “Chick has been on the track of these people, whoever they are, and it’s dollars to cents that when they left their coach at Twenty-third Street, he left his, in pursuit.”
Nick and Patsy hurried to the point indicated, and, as Nick had foreseen, they found on the corner one of the red chalk marks that gave them the direction.
The signs were fresh, easily seen, showing that they had been made within a recent time.
The signs led them over a crooked way, in which there were many stops, nearly all being in front of liquor stores, but finally ended in Avenue A, on the block below that on which Patsy had twice been in the twenty-four hours previously.
Here the signs ended, nor were there any indications of anything but a stop.
“Surely,” said Nick, “after giving us such a good trail for so many hours, Chick can’t have thrown it up at a late hour.”
“Unless,” said Patsy, “something has happened to him.”
He suddenly darted forward, and bent down to look on the sidewalk near the curb. He picked something up andlooked at it, and then ran along a few steps, looking in the curb or gutter.
Nick followed after him, and when he reached him, Patsy said:
“Here’s the trail. Little pieces of this yellow cloth. Chick was on the sneak here, and not in the open.”
Hurriedly, they followed this new trail, and it led them to the middle of the block on which was the house in which Patsy had his “row,” as he called it.
Indeed, when they came to a stop, they were almost opposite the door of that house.
Here, carefully placed against the bottom of a lamppost, was a ball of yellow cloth, about the size of a baseball.
“The end of the trail,” said Patsy.
“And Chick is somewhere about,” added Nick.
“I’ll give a signal that Chick will know if he’s here,” said Patsy. “Hide yourself.”
Nick went into a neighboring doorway, and Patsy, slipping into the street, got between two covered wagons that stood there, backed up to the curb, without horses in front of them.
Suddenly there sounded on the air the sharp, yelping bark of a frightened dog, ending in a prolonged howl.
Patsy slipped back to the pavement and to the cover of some boxes that were piled nearby.
The two waited but a moment, when Chick came down the street, looking in every direction.
Nick gave a low signal, and Chick darted into the hallway where Nick was, Patsy quickly joining him.
“I have been following Lannigan and the unknown all night,” said Chick.
“What have they been doing?” asked Nick.
“Something that they have regarded as important, but what I am not certain.”
He rapidly told his experiences of the night, the important feature of which, to Nick, was Lannigan’s visit to Rivington Street, and his entrance to a house there with the unknown, his long stay, and, finally, the hurried departure of the unknown and his running up to Fourth Street for the coach, which was brought down to Rivington Street.
It was there that Chick had sneaked up behind it and tied the yellow cloth to the hind axle, on the chance that Patsy or Nick, or both, might see it, and know that it was one followed by Chick.
He had hardly done this when Lannigan hurried up to the Bowery with something in his arms and under his coat, jumped into the coach, and was driven rapidly away.
After that it seemed to be merely an effort to get back to Lannigan’s apartments in Avenue A in a way that could not be tracked.
Patsy, by questions, soon settled that the house which Lannigan had entered was the tenement house in which Spike had his rooms, and said so positively.
“Then,” said Nick, “it is settled. Lannigan entered that house to steal from Spike Thomas what Spike Thomas in the afternoon stole from Lannigan.”
The two then told to Chick that which had been learned from Spike Thomas and Bally Morris, and together the two stories made a complete one.
“Are you satisfied,” asked Nick, “that Lannigan carried those drawings and the model to his rooms?”
“Yes,” said Chick. “Now, with what you tell me, I know that they are in Lannigan’s rooms at this moment. What has bothered me all night, and why I clung to him so, giving you the trail, was that I knew he was up to some game that was important, but I couldn’t tell what. You see, I never knew that Lannigan suspected Spike Thomas of that theft, nor that you did. You sent me off on the trail of Lannigan before I had learned that. I was beginning to fear you would not pick up my trail, and when I heard Patsy’s signal, was going to chance a rush into Lannigan’s rooms.”
“We’ll make the rush now,” said Nick.
“Where is the unknown?” asked Patsy.
Chick laughed.
“He’s lying under the stairs, at the rear of that house on the corner, bound and gagged.”
“Why?” asked Patsy and Nick together.
“You see, it’s like this,” said Chick, laughing. “After I had tracked them to that corner and saw them both go into the house, I sneaked into that back yard, and was going to try the stairs, when I struck the unknown coming down. It was him or me right on the jump. I was afraid he would give the alarm, and I gave him the garrote so that he couldn’t holler. I went through him to see if he had anything we wanted, and, finding nothing, I tied him up and put a gag on him and threw him under the stairs, where he couldn’t make any trouble for a while.”
“Come on, boys,” said Nick. “We’ve got no time to lose.”
The three detectives hurried to the corner, and entered the barroom, stopping only long enough for Nick to say to the barkeeper:
“I am Nick Carter. These are my two aids, Chick and Patsy. We’re going upstairs, and if you give so much as a whistle of alarm, it will be all day with you. Do nothing, say nothing, and stay right here.”
The three then rapidly passed through the door into the hall, and so upstairs to the second floor. Here Nick said:
“Go to that front door in the hall. When I whistle, break it in. Patsy, follow me.”
Chick did as he was directed, and Nick, followed by Patsy, went to that door which led from the hall into the bedroom.
Together both placed their shoulders to the door, and, exerting their united strength, burst it open with a crash.
They sprang into the room, with a loud whistle from Nick, and had hardly landed on their feet when they heard the crash of the door burst in by Chick.
Lannigan was in bed, and he sprang up into a sitting position with an oath.
He seemed to take in the situation instantly, for he reached under his pillow with both hands, and drew forth two revolvers, both of which he leveled at the two intruders, discharging them at once.
The balls went wide of the mark, doing no damage to either Nick or Patsy.
Lannigan immediately sprang out of bed to his feet in another effort, but as he raised his arms to level his revolvers again, Chick burst through the door leading into the front room, and, springing forward, struck Lannigan on the head with the butt end of his revolver.
He did not prevent Lannigan from discharging his revolvers again, but he did prevent him from taking trueaim, and thus, for a second time, the balls went wide of the mark.
Chick attempted to take the revolvers from Lannigan, and succeeded in wrenching one from him.
The other one, however, Lannigan was desperately endeavoring to use, and this time on Chick.
The bed was between Chick and Lannigan on the one side and Nick and Patsy on the other.
Patsy sprang on the bed to cross it to go to Chick’s assistance, while Nick attempted to pass around the foot of the bed.
Grappled by one, with two approaching him from different directions, Lannigan, for a brief instant, seemed to hesitate on which he should use his revolver.
The hesitation was fatal to him, for, as a matter of fact, in his doubt he aimed nowhere, discharging it between Nick and Patsy.
The next moment Patsy had seized his arm that held the revolver, and, with a quick wrench, he took it from his hand.
Without weapons, Lannigan made even then a desperate effort at a fight.
He was a powerful man, with muscles like steel, wiry and active. But he was not a match in strength or skill for even Chick, and when Patsy’s strength was added, he was as a child between them.
The two threw him over on the bed, where they held him down.
“You’d better give up,” said Nick. “You’re done, and you can’t make any fight. You’ve lost the game. It’s all up with you.”
“Who are you?” panted Lannigan. “What do you want?”
“Those drawings and the model that you stole fromMr. Herron’s house night before last, which were stolen from you by Spike Thomas yesterday afternoon, and which you stole from Spike Thomas this morning.”
Lannigan stared at Nick, leaning carelessly over the foot of the bed, and breathed rather than said:
“You must be Nick Carter.”
“You’re quite right, Lannigan,” replied Nick, with a smile. “Where are those papers?”
“They’re not here,” replied Lannigan, “and you’re vastly mistaken if you think I will tell you where they are.”
“Roll him over, Chick,” said Patsy.
The two rolled Lannigan over to the other side of the bed, and Patsy, thrusting his hand under the sheet, pulled out a flat bundle of papers he had felt when they had thrown Lannigan on the bed.
He handed them over to Nick, who laughed as he said:
“Here they are.”
But Lannigan swore like a trooper.
Nick looked them over carefully, comparing them with the list Mr. Herron had given him, and said:
“The drawings are all here except one.”
“And here is that one,” said Patsy, taking it from his pocket. “I found it on the roof of this house yesterday afternoon.”
Nick took it, remarking that it made the set complete, and added:
“Now for the model.”
He began a search of the rooms, and finally, turning to the two, who were holding Lannigan, said:
“Handcuff that man and tie his ankles, while we search for that model.”
This was done, and the three began an exhaustive search of the rooms, which ended in finding the model,badly broken, in a pasteboard hatbox in the bottom of a closet, covered with clothes.
“I think this can be patched up by a skillful man,” said Nick, after examining the model. “At all events, we have got all that we started out to get. Now, then, loose that man’s feet and we will take him around to the station house and lodge a complaint against him.”
By this time Lannigan seemed to realize that the game was up, as far as he was concerned, and he tamely submitted.
“Chick,” said Nick, when they were on the sidewalk, “you’d better get your man that you laid away on the stairway.”
Chick, followed by Patsy, went to get the unknown, but on arriving there found that he was no longer there.
Whether he had succeeded in getting loose from his bonds and gags, or whether some one had found him there and had released him, could not be told.
He was gone, and, so far as Nick Carter and his aids were concerned, he was never seen in New York again.
The three detectives then went to Mr. Herron’s house and delivered to him the drawing and the model.
That same day both Seaman and Elwell were arrested for complicity in the burglary. They easily obtained bail, and when the trial came off escaped punishment for the want of sufficient evidence to connect them directly with the crime.
The jewelry and silver plate taken by Lannigan and the unknown, who remains unknown to this day, were recovered from the fence in Hunter’s Point, which was searched on Patsy’s suggestion. So that Mr. Herron’s loss in the end was little or nothing.
Ida was not compelled to play the part set for her, but Mrs. Pemberton allied herself to Mr. Herron’s intereston receiving another check for $10,000, the payment of the one Elwell had stolen being stopped at the bank.
Since that time, she has taken out the patents which secured to herself and Mr. Herron the control of the important invention, and a company has been organized, with Mr. Herron at the head, to put it into execution.
As for Lannigan, the swell cracksman of Philadelphia, Nick had conceived an idea that there was real worth in the man, despite his bad record.
He had a long talk with him, in which he pointed out that a trial could not but result in imprisonment.
“I am absolutely sure,” Nick declared, “that if I brought you into court, you would spend the next half a dozen years in jail. There is no reason why I should let you go free, except that I believe you could be a wonderfully brilliant man and a good citizen if you liked. I am going to give you that chance. You are free to go—no, no, don’t make any protestations. Get out of here as quick as you like and become an honest man. Let me warn you, however, that if I ever catch you engaged in any crooked work again, I will see that your due punishment is meted out. Now go.”
The man slunk away with a hunted expression in his eyes.
Little did Nick guess that within a very little while he would be on the track of Lannigan again.
He was sitting at breakfast one morning, when the first mail arrived, bringing with it the following singular letter, unsigned:
“‘You are a friend of Sanborn. I’ll give you a tip. His daughter is to be married. The presents will be many and of value, and, on the day of the wedding, the house will be raided. A word to you is sufficient.’”
“‘You are a friend of Sanborn. I’ll give you a tip. His daughter is to be married. The presents will be many and of value, and, on the day of the wedding, the house will be raided. A word to you is sufficient.’”
Nick carefully read the letter, even studied it, and thepaper on which it was written. But he gained nothing from such examination.
A close inspection of the envelope showed that it had been deposited in the general post office before six o’clock on the previous evening.
While the letter did not specify which Sanborn it was, and while a hundred of that name, perhaps, were to be found in the directory, Nick had no doubt that Harmon Sanborn was the one meant.
Harmon Sanborn was a very rich man, worth many millions, and in very active business life. The relations between this multi-millionaire and the famous detective were close, having been begun several years before when Nick was retained to trace a peculiar defalcation occurring in one of the many business enterprises of Sanborn.
Nick knew that Mr. Sanborn had more than one daughter unmarried, but he had not heard that the wedding of one was about to take place, as his anonymous letter indicated.
Chick was sitting nearby, wondering whether Lannigan would ever cross his path again, and inwardly chafing because of his chief’s generosity in not pressing charges against the fellow.
He was aroused from his reverie by Nick’s asking:
“Chick, you know Harmon Sanborn, of course. Have you heard that one of his daughters is to be married?”
“Why, yes,” replied Chick. “There’s been a great deal in the newspapers about it.”
“Which daughter is it?”
“The eldest.”
“Whom is she to marry?”
“A young Englishman who has been in this country for some years, and who is said to be related to some of the noble families on the other side.”
“Has there been much said about presents?”
“Yes; half the millionaires of the country are giving diamonds and emeralds and what not to the bride.”
Nick handed the anonymous note that had reached him in that morning’s mail to Chick, asking:
“What’s your idea about that, Chick?”
Chick read the note carefully, and said:
“No name. It’s queer. I hardly know what to say about it. Yet, I think I’d act on it.”
“As a matter of prudence?” asked Nick. “When does this wedding take place?”
“At noon to-day.”
Nick looked at his watch.
“It is nine now,” he said. “There is plenty of time to take measures, if such are necessary. I wonder where Sanborn is at this time?”
“At his house, probably, on such a day,” replied Chick.
“Probably.”
Nick went to the telephone, and, calling up Mr. Sanborn at his home address, finally got into communication with him.
Asking Mr. Sanborn whether he would remain at his home for a short time, he received the answer that the millionaire would remain at his house until noon, when he would leave it only to go to the church to be present at the marriage ceremony of his daughter.
Nick told him that he had a matter of some possible interest to Mr. Sanborn, of which he could not speak over the wire, but that he would call upon him at once.
Asking Chick to accompany him, the famous detective immediately set out for the palatial residence of the rich man, which fronted on Central Park.
Reaching the house, the two detectives were immediately taken to a room on the first floor, which Mr. Sanborn used as his working room when at home.
“I don’t know,” said Nick to the millionaire, “but thatI am bringing a mare’s nest to you. This came to me in the morning’s mail. I know no more than that.”
He passed the letter he had received to Mr. Sanborn.
That gentleman, after reading it carefully, laid it down, saying:
“Well, it tells some truths. That I’m a friend of yours, Mr. Carter, is one truth, and the other is, that the presents are many and, in the main, pretty valuable. My little girl has been greatly favored by my friends and associates in business. What is your opinion about it?”
“It seems to be a note of warning,” replied Nick, “and I suppose prudence suggests that you should take measures, at all events, to protect the presents.”
“Well,” said the millionaire, “these newspapers have been advertising the number and kind of presents in the most annoying manner. Those who would do such a thing as steal them have had all the knowledge they could want of them reading those papers. And there is this thing, a very great number of invitations for the reception, after the wedding in the church, have been issued. I presume the house will be thronged this very afternoon, even overcrowded.”
“Under such circumstances,” said Chick, “it would be easy for swell crooks to push their way into the house. Many of the best, who do this kind of work, are women who can make a front, so far as dress goes, with the best ladies in the land.”
“What arrangements have you made, Mr. Sanborn?” asked Chick, “to guard your house during this pressure?”
Mr. Sanborn looked up, a little surprised, and said:
“I must confess that I have made none. Indeed, I gave it no thought.”
He laughed a little as he continued:
“All this is new business to me, and I have done nothing but blunder in it from the start. I can run a railroad,two or three of them, perhaps, but a wedding seems to be a little too much for me.”
The two detectives laughed not a little over this confession, and Nick said:
“It is not too late for you to make arrangements yet, Mr. Sanborn, and you should do so without delay.”
“Yes,” put in Chick, “don’t make any mistake about thinking that the gang don’t know of this wedding and the valuable presents. Nor to the other thing, that you have made no provision to protect them.”
“Do you mean,” asked Mr. Sanborn, “that thieves would know that I have not done so?”
“Sure,” said Chick.
Nick nodded his head emphatically in support of his assistant’s statement.
Mr. Sanborn was visibly annoyed and perplexed. Finally, he turned sharply to Nick and said:
“I say, why can’t you take charge of this thing and do what is proper.”
Nick smiled a little as he replied:
“We could do so, but it is hardly in our line. This work, as a rule, is done by the officers of the Central Detective Office. What surprises me is that they have waited there for you to ask them. Usually, on such occasions, they come to ask what provisions you desire to have made.”
Mr. Sanborn frowned and looked rather grave. Then he replied:
“I could give you the reason why they have not done so, Mr. Carter, if I thought it wise to do so. While it is not in your line, is it too much to ask you to take charge for me to-day?”
“It is not too much for you to ask, Mr. Sanborn, in view of our friendship and relations, though it might be for others. Under all the circumstances, if you desireus to do so, we will take charge to-day and carry the thing through.”
“Do so,” replied Mr. Sanborn, his face lighting up, “and you will lift a heavy load off my shoulders.”
“Then,” said Nick, “we will begin without delay.”
He went to the telephone that was in Mr. Sanborn’s room, and, calling up Patsy, told him to dress himself as if he were going to a fashionable morning wedding, and to report as soon as he could to Mr. Sanborn’s house, where he would find either Chick or himself, or both, to explain matters to him.
He then sought Ida, and, getting her, told her the same thing as he had told Patsy.
Turning from the telephone, Nick said to Chick:
“I think, Chick, you had better go and rig yourself for this thing. Put yourself in your best shape, for you will have to mix with the guests as one of them.”
Chick went away, replying that he would return within an hour.
He had not been away more than five minutes, when a card was brought to Mr. Sanborn with the word that the caller had come from the Chief of the Detective Bureau.
“A little late, perhaps,” said Mr. Sanborn, “but they are here with their offer of protection.”
He was about to turn to the servant and tell him that all provision had been made, and that the services of the Detective Bureau would not be required, when Nick stopped him.
“Wait one moment, Mr. Sanborn,” said Nick. “Let that man come in here and let’s have a look at him. The tricks of these fellows are many and shrewd.”
Mr. Sanborn was again about to instruct the servant to that end, when Nick stopped him a second time.
“Don’t be so hasty,” said Nick. “I don’t want you to offend the Detective Bureau, if the call is a straightone. And, if it is not a straight one, I don’t want the fellow calling to recognize me. Where can I conceal myself and yet see him and what is going on?”
Mr. Sanborn went to a corner of the room, and, drawing out a large and costly screen, placed it so that one window was concealed by it.
“I have this screen so that I can throw up the window and get the fresh air without its blowing on me. You can sit behind that and be perfectly concealed, hearing everything, and for seeing, why, you can cut a hole through it.”
“Rather a valuable thing to cut a hole into,” said Nick, as he looked behind it.
“Oh, that’s all right,” said Mr. Sanborn. “I fancy if I were to try hard I could buy another.”
“Now, then,” said Nick, “listen to what this man has to say, and if you hear three taps behind this screen, that I shall make by rapping my penknife on the back of the chair, you say to the caller that you will be very glad to have the Detective Bureau send three men in plain clothes.”
Nick looked around the room, and seeing that he could step out through the window into another room, said:
“But if you hear me whistle a bar or two of any tune, in the next room, say positively that all provision has been made and the services of the bureau will not be required.”
Nick now placed himself behind the screen, and a moment later the man who had presented his card was brought into the room by the servant.
He told his story to the millionaire glibly, and had hardly finished it when some one in the adjoining room whistled the tune of a popular air.
Whereupon Mr. Sanborn very sharply said that the bureau’s services were not required, and he imaginedthat none of his guests were going to rob him on such an occasion.
The man calling tried to persuade Mr. Sanborn that he was running a great danger, but Mr. Sanborn would have nothing of it, and cut the interview short rather arrogantly:
There was nothing for the man to do but to leave, and so he went out of the house.
Nick returned to the room, saying:
“I supposed,” he said, “that I would recognize any one the Detective Bureau might be likely to send to you. But what I did recognize at a glance was that this man, who has just left us, is one of the most dexterous crooks, who works in large cities. He is a Philadelphia man, and I am sure he is the one who conducted those robberies at the great receptions last winter in Washington.”
“Then,” said Mr. Sanborn, “you believe your note of this morning was a good warning?”
“I must,” replied Nick, “under the circumstances, and I will be prepared to meet any effort made to-day.”
Mr. Sanborn, after producing a box of cigars, said to Nick:
“I must go and prepare for this affair. I shall leave you here to do as you see fit. If you desire to see me at any time, call a servant and send for me.”
He went out of the room. Nick took up a book and sat himself down to await the arrival of his assistants.
The first to arrive was Patsy, who, on appearing at the door, was at once taken to the room where Nick was waiting.
As he entered, Nick looked up in genuine surprise. Patsy had made the effort of his life, and would have been taken, in the care and correctness of his dress, for one of the fashionable swells of the city.
“You do me proud,” said Nick. “I was going to dosomething of that myself, but, after looking at you, I’m afraid I’ll never be able to get to that perfection.”
“Oh,” replied Patsy, a little embarrassed under his chief’s teasing, “I guess I know how to get myself up to do credit to my chief. I’m only obeying orders, though.”
“As you always do, Patsy,” replied Nick. “You’ve obeyed orders to the very letter.”
Nick now got up, and, taking his hat, said:
“I’m going away to try to rival your elegance. Now, Patsy, I leave you in charge, and you must keep a good watch over the house. Already an effort has been made by Lannigan——”
“What, is that man at work again?” cried Patsy. “I thought you had frightened him off.”
“I thought so, too, but you know a leopard can’t change his spots. Lannigan is supposed to have made an attempt to get into the house, but failed, and escaped before he could be captured again. I fancy he is again employed by somebody who knows his ability as a cracksman; so if you spot Lannigan, keep close to him and see where the trail leads.”
He then told Patsy in detail what had already passed, and added a word of warning that, if the Detective Bureau did send a straight person there, Mr. Sanborn was not to be allowed to offend them by driving them off.
As Nick was about to leave the house, Chick and Ida arrived in quick succession, and he stopped long enough to instruct them and post them in their proper places.
He went down the steps, walking toward the corner. There he saw Lannigan at a distance talking with another, who, leaving Lannigan, jumped into a cab and was driven away rapidly.
Lannigan turned in another direction and disappeared, despite Nick’s efforts to keep him in sight.
“Where have I seen that man who was with Lannigan? His face is familiar, but I can’t place him.”
Dismissing the matter for the time, however, he hurried home to prepare himself to figure as one of Mr. Sanborn’s guests at the wedding.
When Nick returned to the house of Mr. Sanborn, it had already taken on a festive air.
The decorators had completed their labor and the florists had, at last, taken themselves off.
It was not long after Nick had returned that the bridal party set out for the church.
Within a few minutes three men made their appearance and said that they had come from the Central Detective Office, under the instructions of the authorities, to take charge of the house in the absence of Mr. Sanborn and his family.
Nick was called to the door by the servant. Listening to the story of the man presenting himself, he said:
“You are not of the detective force. Get away from here, and, if you make another attempt to enter, I will take you in.”
The men, evidently astonished, hurried away with such haste as to show that their reception was unexpected.
After they had gone Nick said to Chick:
“That is the second attempt that has been made to enter the house, the same means being used, the pretense that they are police detectives.”
“They will make another attempt,” said Chick.
“Yes,” replied Nick, “but it will be in a different way. They will hardly try the same thing again.”
“They seem to be pretty determined,” replied Chick.
“The haul is a big one, if they can make it,” replied Nick. “We must post Patsy at this door, and I will instruct the servants, on no account, to allow any one to passthe doors until the return of the wedding party, unless one of us is called.”
“There is a good deal of going in and out of the basement door in the rear of the house,” said Chick. “I fancy that I had better post myself down there for the present.”
“It is a good plan,” said Nick. “Where are the presents displayed?”
“On the second floor in a rear room,” replied Chick. “Finding that out, while you were gone, I put Ida in that room to maintain a close watch.”
“It could not have been better,” replied Nick.
Thus they waited, but not for long, before there was another diversion.
A florist wagon drove up rapidly to the door with two men in it. Hardly had they stopped and gotten down from it, than a third man rushed up in great haste.
Throwing open the rear doors of the wagon, the three took out a variety of flowers and ascended to the top of the steps, ringing the bell hurriedly.
The doorman threw open the door, and one man, rushing through, with his arms full of flowers, said:
“These are for the rear room on the second floor. Come along, men. Bring those other flowers quick.”
Patsy stepped forward and said:
“What is this?”
“We are very late, we know,” replied the man, “but Mr. Sanborn did not order these flowers until this morning.”
“Mr. Sanborn never ordered them,” cried Patsy.
“Do you know all that Mr. Sanborn does,” replied the man, rather indignantly.
In the meantime, the other two men had pushed forward and the three now tried to go by Patsy.
“Stand back,” said Patsy. “You can’t go by here. Now get out.”
“We’re goin’ to do what we were paid to do,” said the leader, “and you mustn’t stop us.”
Nick, upstairs, hearing the altercation, hurried forward. He was about halfway down the stairs when he saw Patsy catch the leader by the throat with both hands, and pushing him against the others, shove all of them, with their flowers, out through the door.
“Take ’em in,” cried Nick. “That’s the third attempt they’ve made.”
One of the men whom Patsy had shoved out, hearing the voice within, turned and caught a glimpse of Nick, who had reached the door by this time. He dropped the flowers on the stoop, running down hastily, at the same time crying out:
“It’s Nick Carter!”
With this, the other two dropped their flowers, and, jumping for the wagon, clambered into it, to be driven away in hot haste.
“That is the third attempt, Patsy,” said Nick. “I don’t think they will attempt it again. If there is another attempt, it will not be until after the house is filled up with guests.”
Nick was right, for no other efforts were made during the time the bridal party was away.
It was after one o’clock before the bride and bridegroom, with the guests bidden to the wedding breakfast, returned to the house. And it was fully two hours later before the guests to the reception began to arrive.
While keeping close watch on all those who entered, Nick Carter and his aids, nevertheless, kept themselves out of sight as much as possible.
Nick had taken for his own post the hallway on the second floor leading to the room where the presents were.
A room in the front of the house on that floor had been set apart for the use of the groom, and, after the breakfast was over and the reception was about to take place, the groom, whose name Nick had learned was Mr. Norman Ellison, entered that room for a short time. Coming from it, he met Nick, face to face, at the door.
There was something strangely familiar to Nick in the face of the groom. For a moment it occurred to him that it was some other person than Mr. Ellison. With the recognition, recollections of London were presented to the mind of Nick.
On the part of Ellison, on meeting Nick Carter, there was an unmistakable start and an expression of surprise on his face.
The young man regained possession of himself, however, instantly, and advancing with a pleasant manner to Nick, extended his hand, saying:
“The celebrated Mr. Carter, I presume.”
Nick bowed, making no reply.
“I was a little astonished at seeing you here, until I recollected that Mr. Sanborn told me that he had secured your services this morning.”
He laughed a little and went on:
“All these things seem to be necessary at modern weddings. Mrs. Ellison tells me that her father forgot all about making the provision until this morning.”
This was all so true that Nick laughed with the groom, and answered that Mr. Sanborn had even neglected to take the proper precautions until after he, Nick Carter, had warned him that an attempt would be made to steal the jewels, of which he, Nick Carter, had had intimation.
The groom looked keenly into the eyes of Carter as he said these things, but merely remarked:
“That is serious.”
Then hastily saying:
“But I must not linger here and keep the bride waiting,” he ran down the stairs.
Nick turned away, his mind busy with recollections of London. The face of the young man, Ellison, was familiar to him.
It was one of Nick’s characteristics that he never forgot a face that he had once regarded earnestly. In fact, his memory in this respect was actually an embarrassment to him, for in his travels in many parts of the world he had met faces that had attracted him, or, under circumstances, had impressed them on his mind which were by no means associated with his business. Something of this he expressed in the words he muttered to himself:
“This habit of suspicion is all very well, but I am letting it run away with me. Because I have seen this young fellow’s face before is no reason why I should suspect him of anything.”
He walked off toward the room over which Ida was on guard.
In the meantime, Ellison had descended the stairs, and, at the foot of it was met by a servant, who stopped him, speaking in a low tone of voice.
This was observed by Patsy, who, standing near the doorman, asked what servant it was, since he had not seen him before.
The reply was that it was Mr. Ellison’s own servant, his valet.
Whatever was communicated by this servant to the young man, at least it gave no little concern to him.
He knitted his brows, bit his lip and looked down on the floor in thought for a moment.
Then he said to the servant:
“Take him into some room where I can see him alone. I will excuse myself to the bride for a moment or two.”
The two turned away, the servant to run downstairsinto the basement, and the young man to push his way through the hall to a rear room on the first floor.
All this time the guests were arriving in increasing numbers for the reception, but the bride and groom, however, had not yet taken their places in the great parlor, where Mr. and Mrs. Sanborn were already in place.
Patsy, watching, saw the servant of Ellison come up the stairs from the basement, leading a man who was carrying his hat with him, and who wore a long cape overcoat.
This man was ushered by the valet into a small room at the extreme end of the hall. Then the servant returned to the bridegroom.
Together, the two entered this small room, as Patsy could very well see.
Only a moment or two elapsed before the stranger, who had called on the bridegroom at such an inopportune time, came out of the room, accompanied by the valet, who led him downstairs into the basement again, and, of course, out of sight.
Something occurring at the door attracted Patsy’s attention for a moment, so that he did not see Mr. Ellison emerge from that room.
The house was gradually becoming filled, and the ways of the stairs and the hall much crowded.
By and by Patsy became conscious that something extraordinary had occurred. In a few moments he saw Nick Carter hurriedly descend the stairs and push his way through the hall into the parlor.
While wondering what had occurred, he saw Chick push his way through the hall toward him. Reaching him, Chick bent over and said:
“The work has begun, Patsy. Get into that room, the third down on the right.”
“They haven’t nipped some of those jewels, have they?” asked Patsy, eagerly.
“Oh, no,” said Chick, moving off, “it’s worse than that.”
Patsy threaded his way through the throng, and entered the room spoken of by Chick.
There he found the bride in hysterics, being cared for by her bridesmaids and an elderly woman, whom he recognized to be Mrs. Sanborn.
Nick was already there in close conversation with Mr. Sanborn, and, a moment later, Chick entered.
Patsy looked around for some explanation of the singular scene, but could find none.
Presently Nick beckoned him, and, as he approached, said:
“Perhaps Patsy can tell us something. Mr. Sanborn, this is one of my valued aids, Patsy Murphy.”
Mr. Sanborn, extending his hand, took that of Patsy’s, and the young detective felt that it was trembling with agitation.
“Patsy,” said Nick, “the bridegroom has mysteriously disappeared. The house has been searched and he cannot be found. Did you see him pass out of the door you were guarding?”
“No,” replied Patsy, “he did not pass out of that door.”
“Nor did he go out through the door that Chick was guarding,” said Nick.
“Say,” said Patsy, “who made the search of the house?”
“Some of Mr. Sanborn’s people,” replied Nick, “and a nephew of Mr. Sanborn.”
“Say, chief,” said Patsy, “I saw something. Where is Mr. Ellison’s valet?”
“What was it you saw?” asked Nick.
“I saw Mr. Ellison come down the stairs. His valet met him at the bottom of the steps and whispered something to him. Then Mr. Ellison told him to take a man into a room where he could see him alone, while he himself came into this room to excuse himself to the bride.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Sanborn, “that’s what he did, saying that he would not delay the bride but a minute.”
“Then,” said Patsy, “I saw the valet come to the door of this room for him and take him to meet the stranger.”
“A stranger?” said Nick, sharply.
“Anyhow,” said Patsy, “he didn’t look like a guest, for he wasn’t rigged for it, and he had on a long cape coat. But, anyhow, it wasn’t a minute after they went in before the man in the big cape coat came out and was taken downstairs by the valet.”
“Did you see Mr. Ellison come out of that room?” asked Nick.
“No,” replied Patsy, “I did not.”
Chick, who had been standing within hearing, now said:
“I saw such a man go out of the door below.”
“Mr. Ellison said,” put in Mr. Sanborn, “when he came into this room to ask my daughter to wait a moment, that he was called to a matter of immense personal importance.”
Mrs. Sanborn at this moment called her husband to her, and Patsy, taking the arm of Nick, asked:
“What is it all about?”
“Mr. Ellison, the bridegroom, has singularly disappeared,” said Nick, “or is missing.”
“Do they think he has skipped?” asked Patsy.
“They do not say so,” replied Nick. “But it looks that way to me.”
“But,” put in Chick, “nobody saw him leave the house, and it is believed he is stowed away somewhere in it.”
“Well, look here,” said Patsy. “I’ve got a pointer.Look for the feller the valet brought in. And look for the valet himself.”
“What are you getting at?” asked Nick.
“Well, I’ve only just tumbled now,” said Patsy, “but when that big cape coat went out of the house, it didn’t have the same man inside of it that it had when it came in.”
“You mean?” asked Nick.
“I mean that Mr. Ellison went out of the house in that big cape coat. I recollect now thinking how much bigger the man appeared going out than when he came in.”
“Good boy, Patsy,” said Nick. “You’ve answered one question right away.”
Turning to Chick, he said:
“Now, Chick, go through the house and make a thorough search for the valet.”
He stopped a moment, and then said to Patsy:
“Patsy, go into that room where you saw the man taken and see what you see there. Anyhow, look for the man that stayed behind.”
The two assistants dashed out of the room and began their respective duties.
It soon became apparent to Chick that the valet of Mr. Ellison had disappeared with his master.
As for Patsy, on entering the room, the first thing that attracted his attention was an open window.
Going to the window and looking out, he saw that it would not have been very much of a drop for a man to let himself out of it.
Leaning out he saw that there was a gate in the fence that led to the cross street, for Mr. Sanborn’s house was on the corner.
He heard a voice, and, looking up, saw a man at the open window of a house fronting on the cross street, butwhich looked out upon the yard in the rear of Mr. Sanborn’s house.
The person opposite was a very young man, not more than a boy. He asked if Patsy were looking for anybody.
“Yes,” replied Patsy, “I am. Have you seen him?”
“I saw a man drop out of that window,” said the young lad, “and go out of the gate into the street.”
“What sort of a looking man was he?” asked Patsy.
“He wasn’t a very big man,” replied the lad, “but he had black whiskers all around his face and long black hair.”
“That’s my man,” replied Patsy. “Was anybody with him?”
“I didn’t see anybody,” replied the lad; “he went into the street through that door in the fence. He had no hat on. Did he steal anything?”
“Great Scot, no!” said Patsy. “His skipping was only a joke.”
Patsy left the window, for he had found out all he could hope to learn.
It was clear to him that Mr. Ellison had taken the man’s coat and hat and left the house, his valet being in the scheme.
Mr. Ellison once out of the house safely, the man who had come to see him had taken his chances for escaping in a bolder and more dangerous manner.
He went back to Nick and reported what he had learned.
“There is no doubt that you have hit the very way in which it was done,” replied Nick. “Chick reports that the valet has made his disappearance as well. The question is now, why have these two men fled? There is a great mystery here somewhere.”
The assurance that the bridegroom had deliberatelyfled the house, within an hour after he had been married, and immediately after the wedding breakfast, at which he had made a speech expressing his happiness in securing so lovely a partner for life, by no means contributed to the peace of mind of the bride.
She fainted away on hearing it, and remained so long in a state of unconsciousness that the doctor was summoned to attend her.
In the meantime, the guests who crowded the house were wondering over the extraordinary delay.
Rumors were flying, the chief of which was that the bride had been taken violently ill. The nephew of Mr. Sanborn, a young man of the same name, and who alone of the family seemed to keep his head, took advantage of the rumor and of the fact of the calling of the physician to make it the excuse for dismissing the guests from the house.
It was not so easily done, but, in the course of an hour, all the strangers were gotten away, leaving only Nick and his assistants there.
On the first intimation that Ida received that the bride was ill, and the guests were being dismissed, she cleared the room wherein the presents were displayed, and, locking the door, sat there to guard the presents.
Once the house was cleared, Mr. Sanborn pulled himself together and said to Nick Carter:
“This is a most mysterious affair. I am much humiliated over the action of the man to whom I had given my daughter. But I am willing to suspend my judgment until such time as I find whether or not he is really guilty of wrong. I place this case in your hands and I ask you to unravel the mystery, and spare no expense in doing so.”