“What about this young man who is waiting outside to see you?� he asked.
“Why, he inherits the estate, of course.�
“But there must first be adequate and convincing proof of his identity, I suppose?�
“Naturally.�
“I need not remind you, Oaks, that the newspaper notoriety which has been given to the matter of the inheritance through the furore over the Babbington case has opened up an immense opportunity for the commission of a fraud?�
“No; you need not remind me of that. I am quite well aware of it,� replied the lawyer, with a trace of offense in his tones.
“The estate is a very large one,� remarked the detective, taking no notice of the tone the lawyer had used.
“Very large, larger than people generally suppose. It will figure up to a dozen millions, probably.�
“Well, I came down here not only to tell you about the verdict in the Babbington case, but also to offer you my services in the search for Carleton Lynne. I arrive here and discover that the man is here. My offer is still open if you find that you require any assistance in establishing the identity of this young man who is outside, waiting to interview you.�
“Good. I thank you. But the fellow would scarcely venture here unless——â€�
“Unless he were well provided with the necessary proofs. I grant you that. But, Oaks, I sometimes have strange ‘hunches’ in the practice of my profession, and one of them tells me—told me the moment I entered your outer office—that this man may not be all that he will represent himself. That is all. I will give way to him now.â€�
“What do you mean—that the man is a fraud?â€�
“No; I mean that he may be one. I mean that the woman who has just been acquitted of the charge of murder is not one to relinquish without a struggle all that she has fought so hard to obtain. I mean that the effect of the tiger eye, as practiced upon the jury, and upon you, too, might well have been directed in other channels. I mean that if the matter of establishing his identity were in my hands, I would subject every proof that is offered to a minute inspection under a microscope. I have a feeling that we have not heard the last of Madge Babbington, Mr. Oaks.�
Nick Carter was astounded when he arrived at his own home to find that Madge Babbington was there awaiting him.
It was Joseph who told him of the fact as he entered the house, and so, casting aside his hat he went at once to the reception room.
He paused just inside the door, and with a curt nod, recognized her.
“To what reason am I to ascribe your presence in my house, madam?� he asked coldly, and he remained near the door to indicate that the interview must be brief.
“I have come here to ask you if it is your purpose to continue to persecute me,� she replied, rising and facing him with just a trace of defiance in her expression and manner, although she did not forget to use her wonderful eyes upon the detective, with all the resourceful power within her.
Mixed with the defiance that was in them was also a wistful, pleading expression, and she permitted the suggestion of a tear to moisten the lashes of each of them while her beautiful face was pathetic as well as pleading.
But Nick Carter “was on to her curves,� as the saying is, and her attitude had no effect upon him otherthan to convince him more strongly than ever that he must constantly be on his guard against this siren. He replied:
“Persecute you, madam?�
“That is the expression I made use of.�
“I was not aware that I had done so. I can assure you that my utmost wish concerning you is that I may never see you or hear your name mentioned again.�
“You still believe me guilty, Mr. Carter?�
“I have never for one moment doubted your guilt,� he replied.
“And yet I am innocent; as innocent as you are, Nick Carter.�
The detective shrugged his shoulders.
“Am I to understand that you will not persecute me in the future?� she demanded.
“I have never persecuted any person in my life, Mrs. Babbington. I do not pretend to understand your persistence upon that word.�
“I mean this: If I remain in this city, and undertake to live my life out here, will I be constantly under espionage by you and your agents? Am I to be left to go my own way, without molestation, or am I to be hounded, watched, imposed upon, spied upon, and——â€�
“Enough, madam. It makes no sort of difference to me where you stay or what you do, so long as you remain outside the law—and, incidentally, outside this house. I think the present interview has lasted quite long enough, Mrs. Babbington.â€�
“Which is another form of requesting me to go, Mr.Carter?� she asked, with a smile on her lips, although her eyes flamed dangerously as she put the question.
“Yes,� he replied, without comment.
She stepped toward the door, and he drew to one side to permit her to pass him.
At the door she stopped, and with her hand upon the knob turned to face him again, although his back was half turned toward her. And she laughed softly, showing her white and beautiful teeth, and permitting the lids of her eyes to droop until the yellow-brown irises glowed through the shading lashes like two living coals of fire.
“I have been charged with murder, Mr. Carter,� she said. “I have been tried by a jury of twelve men, and they have found me guiltless. Is there anything now that you can do to me?�
“No—unless you commit, or aid in the commission of another murder, madam.â€�
“If I should do that,â€� she replied slowly, evidently weighing and measuring her words as she uttered them, “it will scarcely be you who will hunt me down for it, for you——â€� she stopped, still smiling, her eyes still burning.
The detective shrugged.
“You mean to suggest that if you should commit such another crime, I would be the victim of it, I suppose?� he said coolly.
“Did I say that?� she exclaimed, laughing aloud this time. “How you do persist in misunderstanding me. Really.�
“Madam, the door is behind you; your hand is upon the knob.�
“I will make use of both, presently, thank you; but I have something more to say to you before I do so.�
“Well?�
“You have advertised widely and largely—you and a lawyer named Benjamin Oaks—for information concerning a certain young man, Carleton Lynne by name. Suppose that I could supply you with the address of that person, Mr. Carter? Would the information be worth a substantial recompense?â€�
“Any information obtained from you would be worse than useless, madam,� he replied.
“And yet——â€� She paused, and when he made no remark, she continued: “Carleton Lynne is, or was a few months ago, in Hailey, Idaho. You are welcome to that much information.â€�
“A gentleman who announces himself as Carleton Lynne is at this moment in consultation with Mr. Oaks,� the detective replied coldly; and he caught a sudden and unmistakable gleam from the eyes of Madge Babbington as he made the announcement.
He was impressed instantly for some reason that he could not have named at the time, that this was precisely the information she had come there to obtain; but he did not regret having given it since it opened up a new train of thought, and suggested unheard-of possibilities and probabilities. But all she said was:
“Indeed? Is it so?�
“Quite so, madam.�
She left her place at the door then, and took one step nearer to the detective.
“How old a man is he?� she asked softly; and the detective, perceiving what was behind the question, shrugged his shoulders and replied, not without a trace of satirical amusement in his manner:
“The man I saw, and who claims to be the heir of J. Cephas Lynne is young—perhaps about your own age. He is also handsome, judged from the feminine standpoint. Whether he is impressionable or not, I leave to you to determine, if you ever have the opportunity.â€�
“Thank you,� she replied, with a quiet smile, and the flame in her eyes had disappeared. “I need not tell you that I shall seek the opportunity, I suppose?�
“No; I had anticipated that. I was quite prepared for such an attempt on your part, without the assurance of it from your lips. You have not abandoned your desire to possess yourself of the Lynne millions?�
“I never abandon a course upon which I have once embarked,� she replied. “And that brings me to the point which I came here to determine.�
The detective did not reply. She continued:
“I suppose you will consider it your duty to warn him against me, Mr. Carter?�
“If I find that he is really the man he says he is, and that you have sought him and made his acquaintance, I most certainly shall do so, madam.�
“I have not sought his acquaintance—because I have not had the opportunity,â€� she retorted.
“But you will lose no opportunity to make his acquaintance.�
“No; I shall not. I will even seek him—and—take warning from what I shall say to you now, Nick Carter.â€�
The detective inclined his head mockingly. She continued:
“And when I have sought him and found him and have made his acquaintance, I will put to the test the influence which you and Benjamin Oaks may exert over him, as against that which I shall win in spite of all that you can do, in spite of the hateful reputation you and the district attorney have given me, in spite of all the cruel things that have been printed about me.� And then she took still another step nearer to him, and added, in a low tone that was almost a whisper: “In spite of heaven and hell.�
Nick Carter was startled by the intensity of the woman, although he did not permit her to see that he was.
She was smiling again now as she withdrew once more to the door and reached for the knob as if she was to take her departure at last.
“You understand me?� she demanded, rather than asked.
“I understand your words and your motives; not your methods, Mrs. Babbington.�
“Well, I will give you a full and fair warning.�
“You need not unless it is your pleasure to do so.�
“You say that Carleton Lynne, the heir, is here; that the man I supposed to be in Idaho is even nowat the office of the lawyer who represents the Lynne estate, establishing his identity. I had supposed that he was still in the West, for long ago I took pains to inform myself concerning him. I intended to tell you that much, and to induce you to bring him here. That he is here already, is pleasant news to me.�
“I don’t see where the warning comes in, madam,� said Nick, interrupting.
She bent toward the detective without moving from her position at the door.
“When I left the courtroom to-day,� she said, in a low, even tone, which nevertheless conveyed a certain menace with every word she uttered, “you and the district attorney were discussing me. I know it, although I did not hear a word that passed between you.�
“Well?�
“You were commenting upon the manner in which I had influenced every member of that jury of twelve men. And you were right; I did influence them, one by one, until I knew, before they left the box, what their verdict would be. I took them one by one; I won them over to me, one by one, until I had the entire twelve. I knew it.�
“You are wasting my time and yours, madam.�
“You and the district attorney also discussed my eyes. Doubtless you called them the eyes of a tigress. Oh, you need not be surprised that I say so; it is not the first time the comparison has been applied to them.�
“Probably not.�
“You were correct in making the simile, too, Nick Carter, but the comparison goes deeper than my eyes; it applies to my inmost soul.�
“Ah; we are coming to the warning, now.�
“Yes, we are.�
“Well?�
“All my life I have been able to make men love me—or believe that they did so. All my life I have been able to fascinate them, and that, too, without any loss of my self-respect. Even you, who hate and abhor me just now, I could, if there were the opportunity——â€�
“Spare me that, Mrs. Babbington.�
“But I warn you that I shall find this man who is the heir; I warn you that I shall bend every energy I possess to bring him under the spell which I can exert; I warn you that I shall marry him, become his wife, possess his millions after he has succeeded to their ownership, and that you, Nick Carter, with all the influence you can exert will be no more than a grain of dust on a steel rail before a locomotive.�
She stopped and looked at the detective, flaming her remarkable eyes upon him again, so that he partly understood what the district attorney had meant when he had said that he dodged the eyes of the caged tigers at the Zoo.
“You understand me now?� she said softly.
He did not answer her, and with a mocking smile which ended in a low but menacing laugh that was barely audible, she turned and passed quickly from the room.
Nick Carter received a letter the following morning from Benjamin Oaks, the lawyer.
It stated briefly that Carleton Lynne had proven his claims so satisfactorily that there could not be the shadow of a doubt that he was the rightful heir. The letter came to a close, however, with this significant statement:
“I have deferred a definite acceptance of his claim until to-morrow, nevertheless, for the specific reason that I wish to consult with you about the matter before taking the necessary steps to put him in possession of the fortune. Therefore I will be glad if you will come to my office at ten in the morning. Carleton Lynne is to be here at eleven.�
The detective entered the office of the lawyer at precisely ten o’clock, and passed at once into the private room, where he found Oaks awaiting him.
“On time, I see,� said the lawyer, by way of greeting. “Here are the papers. Look them over and tell me what you think of them.�
“What are they?� the detective asked, taking them in his hand, but holding them so, unopened for the moment.
“The marriage certificate of his father and mother; photographs of his parents in which you can plainlysee the Lynne physiognomy; his own birth certificate; photographs of himself taken from time to time from his childhood to the last one, which he says was made only a few months ago—the resemblance is borne out in all of them; newspaper clippings covering a number of years, referring to incidents in his career, and to the career of his father, who was also called Carleton Lynne—and so forth. Look at them for yourself.â€�
“What sort of a story does the man tell about himself?� asked the detective.
“A straight one. It seems to bear out everything that he claims. I don’t think there is any doubt about his claim, Carter.�
“How does he impress you personally?�
“Very favorably.�
“Was that your first impression of him?�
“Yes. I think so.�
“Don’t you know whether it was favorable or not?�
“Why, yes, of course. He told me one lie, though.�
“Oh, he did, eh? What was it?�
“Perhaps it was unimportant. I made no mention of the fact that I had noticed it.�
“What was it?�
“He began by informing me that he arrived in the city only last evening at five o’clock. He said that he came to this office at half-past five, or near that time, and finding the office closed, sought a hotel. He went to the Mammoth.�
“Well?�
“I asked him how he passed the evening, and he replied that he went to the theater. I asked him what hesaw, and he replied that it was the ‘The Chocolate Soldier.’�
“Well, what of that?�
“Nothing—only it happens that the last performance of ‘The Chocolate Soldier’ was given the night before last. I happen to know that, because I was there, and what is more, Carter, I saw this same young man there. He occupied a seat directly in front of me.â€�
The detective uttered a low whistle.
“Why should he lie about so trivial a thing as that?� the lawyer asked.
“The lie is evidently about the time of his arrival in the city,� replied the detective. “For some reason he prefers to have you believe that he got here last night, while, as a matter of fact, he had already been here at least twenty-four hours.�
“That is certain.�
“And twenty-four days, for all we know.�
“Umph! I had not thought of that possibility. But, even so, what has all that got to do with the case, since his credentials are satisfactory?�
“It merely suggests that they should be examined with all the more care. Why didn’t you ask him about the discrepancy of his statement?�
“I thought I would leave that to you.�
The detective was about to reply when the door opened and the clerk from the outer office announced that Mr. Carleton Lynne had arrived.
“Let him come in,� said the lawyer.
The man who entered, and who was the same one that Nick had seen in the elevator the preceding day,was an inch more than six feet in height, well proportioned, an athlete in appearance, with his skin tanned by the sun and winds of the open country of the West.
One might have called him handsome without a stretch of the imagination. His features were regular and well chiseled, and he carried himself with a certain air of distinction, as if he were to the manner born.
His eyes were set wide apart and the line of concentration between them was well marked, and as the detective glanced at him a second time he determined that the eyes were the only feature about the man that he did not exactly like.
They were neither gray nor brown, but of that nondescript color which is sometimes described as green, although that is not precisely the shade.
But they were steady eyes for all that. They did not shift when they dwelt upon you, but rather were cold, keenly observant, and compelling.
Unquestionably they were the eyes of a man who did not know fear, and who would be a dangerous antagonist at any sort of game, from cards to a rough-and-tumble fight.
“Sit down, Mr. Lynne,� said the detective, as soon as the introduction was made. “I suppose that Mr. Oaks has led you to expect to meet me here. You know who I am, and why I am here, do you not?�
“Perfectly well, Mr. Carter.�
“You have presented a claim to a very large and rich estate, Mr. Lynne?�
“Pardon me. I have merely answered an advertisement, and have established my identity. It will be time enough to enter a claim after my credentials have been accepted.�
“Precisely. Will you tell me when you arrived in the city?�
“Wednesday afternoon, at five o’clock.�
“To-day is Saturday, Mr. Lynne. I saw you in this office yesterday. After I had gone, you talked with Mr. Oaks, and you told him that you——â€�
“I told him that I had arrived here the preceding day. I know. It was a lie—and an unnecessary one.â€�
“Mr. Oaks knew that it was an untruth. He saw you at the theater Wednesday night.�
“I know. I saw him there, too. I remembered it after I had gone. I did not know whether he had seen me there or not, but acting upon the idea that he had done so and would remember me, I decided to admit the truth to-day.�
“Just why did you deceive him about it in the beginning?�
Lynne shrugged his shoulders and uttered a low chuckle before he replied. Then he replied:
“Well, there was no good reason for it. I had not been in New York since I was a kid, and I am twenty-six years old now. After the theater was out, I determined to see some of the sights, and I saw rather more of them than I had bargained for. I got into bad company and drank too much. I was also robbed of all the cash I had about me—and, as a matter offact, very nearly all that I had in the world. I wasn’t proud of the circumstance, and so—I lied about it.â€�
“Would you mind telling me where you went that night?�
“Yes, I would mind. I’d rather forget it.�
“Possibly we might recover the money you lost.�
“I’d rather lose it than to go back to those places after it.�
“Still, if it was practically all you had——â€�
“And, anyhow, my recollection of the night is very vague. I don’t know half the places I did go to.�
“Did you go alone to the theater?�
“No; I went with an acquaintance I picked up at the hotel. He was my guide that night, and I reckon is the one who got my dough.�
“Possibly. By the way, have you ever made the acquaintance of a Mrs. Babbington?�
Nick asked the question casually. Without appearing to do so he watched the face of Carleton narrowly when he did ask it, but there was not the flicker of an eyelid nor the suggestion of wavering in those steady eyes when the man replied:
“Can’t say that I have, unless she happened to be—— Oh! I see. You are referring to that woman who was tried for the murder of my cousin whom I never saw?â€�
“Yes. I was referring to her.�
“No. I never met her. Why did you suppose I might have done so?�
“I did not suppose it. I asked only to know if you had made her acquaintance at any time in the past.�
“No; never heard of her until I saw her name in the papers, about the murder case.�
“She intends to marry you,� said Nick quietly.
“What! Say! What are you giving me? A joke?�
“It sounds like one, doesn’t it? Nevertheless, at my house last evening, she assured me that as soon as you had established your identity and had possessed yourself of the Lynne millions, she intended to marry you and to possess herself of them.�
“Well, I’ll be—blessed!â€�
“Damned would be a more appropriate word if such a thing should happen. She boasted to me of her intention. I thought it best to tell you about her. Did you come directly——â€�
“Wait a moment. The woman is said to be very beautiful, isn’t she?�
“Yes; she has that reputation.�
“All right. Fetch her along. I’ll give her a run for her money.�
“For your money, you mean—when you get it?â€�
“You speak, Mr. Carter, as if there was a doubt that I would get it. Is there?�
“No doubt at all, after you have thoroughly established your claim—that is, your identity.â€�
“Haven’t I sufficiently established that?�
Nick waved his hand toward the lawyer.
“That is a question for Mr. Oaks to answer,� he said. “When he is satisfied, he will proceed at once to satisfy the court, and will apply for letters of administration for you.�
“Then I am to understand that you, personally, have nothing to do with the legal end of it?�
“Nothing whatever.�
“Might I ask, without offense, in that case, what the devil you’re butting in for?�
The question was an insolent one only in the words that Lynne used; not at all in the manner or the tone of using them; and he smiled engagingly while he asked the question.
But he might far better not have asked it, for there was something hidden behind the words which instantly put the detective on his guard, and which as suddenly determined him upon the course he would pursue thereafter.
Instead of resenting the words, he smiled back at Lynne, and replied:
“I came here at the request of Mr. Oaks, and in the interest of J. Cephas Lynne, who is dead, and who, if he could give directions now, would like to see justice done.� Nick turned then to the lawyer, and added:
“Perhaps you had better apply at once for letters of administration, Oaks.�
When Nick Carter left the Wall Street office of the great lawyer he walked up Broadway to the Western Union Building, where he wrote and forwarded several telegrams, all of which were addressed to different localities in the State of Idaho.
That done he took the subway uptown and went directly to his own home, where, after entering his study, he summoned Chick and Patsy to him.
“Patsy,� he said, “you start for Idaho on the Twentieth Century at four this afternoon; and you, Chick, will take the trail of Mr. Carleton Lynne, now at the Mammoth, and you will report to me every move that he makes, no matter how unimportant it may appear to be.�
Each of the assistants nodded in reply, but neither of them made any audible remark.
“Now,â€� said the detective, “give me your close attention, both of you. What I shall tell you will be the only instructions you will receive—will be all, in fact, that I can give you.â€�
Again they nodded in comprehension.
“I don’t know whether this is a case or not,â€� the detective continued. “I am acting, just now, as I have done many times in the past—upon that kind of an impulse which I call a ‘hunch.’â€�
“The Lynne inheritance, of course?� Chick asked.
“Yes; the Lynne inheritance, and the Babbington case, as well. If I am anywhere near to being correct in my conjectures, the two matters just about dovetail, right here.�
“To start with,� suggested Patsy, “you don’t believe that the Carleton Lynne you saw yesterday, and again to-day, is the real article. This is the size of it, isn’t it?�
“To begin with,� replied Nick Carter, “I do not believe that the Carleton Lynne I saw yesterday, and again to-day, is the real article, and I have the least logical reason for that lack of faith. Put that down in your minds and think it over.�
“Just a hunch, eh?� said Chick.
“Just a hunch in the beginning—yesterday when I walked into the office of Ben Oaks directly behind this chap from the West. Since then that hunch has been strengthened by a few unimportant incidents which I will relate to you.
“Incident number one, and it really should take third or fourth place in the list, because I paid no attention to it at the time: When I entered the private office, before Carleton Lynne was admitted, Oaks sent his stenographer, whom he calls his secretary, out of the room. She went into the library, which adjoins the private office, and she left the communicating door ajar. Whether that was accident or design, I know that she listened intently to our conversation. I could see her doing that, by means of a mirror that hangsin the library, and which I could see through the half-open door.
“Incident number two: While I was there it developed that Oaks had been to the Tombs, before the trial, to see Mrs. Babbington, at her request—at her second request—and I assumed, from what was told to me about it, that she had also asked him to take his stenographer with him; at least he did so.â€�
“Why?� asked Patsy.
“Wait and ask that question again after I have finished, Patsy—unless, perhaps, you should find an answer to it that suits you.â€�
“All right, chief.�
“Incident number three: Oaks came away from the Tombs, leaving Miss McQueen there, alone with Mrs. Babbington. The incident happened two weeks ago. Miss McQueen remained about an hour with the prisoner.�
“Do you mean that she took dictation from her?� asked Chick.
“Yes; a few short letters to former social friends and acquaintances, all of which were read by the district attorney and by Oaks.�
“Are you sure that all of them were treated in that manner?� asked Patsy.
“That is the presumption, Patsy. I am not saying that I am sure about it, or that there was not another notebook which Oaks did not see; or that there were no oral instructions given to Miss McQueen, which were not taken down in shorthand.�
The two assistants nodded in unison.
“Remember that happened more than two weeks ago. Letters and telegrams have had ample time to reach Idaho, and to bring Carleton Lynne to New York, since then.�
“Sure,� commented Chick.
“Incident number four: When I came away from the office of Ben Oaks yesterday afternoon, Carleton Lynne was admitted to the private office. He produced his papers and credentials to establish himself. They appeared satisfactory. But he lied to Oaks about the time of his arrival in the city, and without any apparent reason. Later, he found out that his deception would be discovered, and so he made a clean breast of it to-day, giving an excuse which I do not for a moment believe.
“Incident number five: When I arrived home late yesterday afternoon, after leaving the office of Benjamin Oaks, I found that Madge Babbington was here awaiting me.�
“Just what has that got to do with the case in hand?� Patsy interrupted.
“Possibly nothing at all, but if I am at all on the right track, it has much to do with it.�
“How so?�
“She came here, ostensibly, to offer to supply the address of the missing heir, Carleton Lynne, which she claims to have known for a considerable time. I would not gratify her enough to ask her for particulars about it, for I judged that she was lying to me from the beginning.�
“If that was the ostensible reason, what was the real one?� asked Chick.
“I think it was to endeavor to convince me in the roundabout way she used, that she had never seen this Carleton Lynne; but she only succeeded in convincing me that she had seen him, probably knows him well, and that she had already been informed that I was at the Oaks office when he arrived there.�
“Let us return for a moment to the two incidents you have mentioned in which the stenographer is concerned,� said Chick.
“Well?�
“How do you associate her with the others? I mean, aside from the possible sending of messages from the Tombs, for the Babbington woman.�
“In this way: I have known Ben Oaks more or less familiarly for twelve years. He has had a secretary named Miss Hunt who was with him until about the time of the beginning of the advertising effort to find Carleton Lynne—eight or nine weeks ago; and I know of my own knowledge that Miss Hunt was his secretary for four or five consecutive years. Miss Hunt is not there now; this Miss McQueen is.â€�
“Well, what of that?� asked Patsy. “A lawyer often changes his stenographers.�
“But this change appears to have been so coincidental with other things that I use it here as incident number six.�
“Do you mean that she was sent there by—by the Babbington woman, for instance?â€�
“Possibly.�
“But, Miss Hunt——â€�
“Miss Hunt, or any other stenographer of my knowledge would readily enough give up a position if there was sufficient inducement offered.�
“Oh; you mean that she was bought off?�
“That is the possibility.�
“Then,� said Chick, “I would suggest that Miss Hunt be found without delay.�
“That is a duty that I have reserved for myself,� replied the detective.
“But what would be the object of it all?�
“To have a competent spy in the office of the man who must decide upon the credentials of the claimant, for one thing; to arrange for an easy method of getting a person into the Tombs and to the prisoner at the opportune moment for sending out an important message, for another.�
“I see. What are your conclusions, Nick?� It was Chick who asked the question.
“I don’t know that I have arrived at any conclusions; at least, definite ones.�
“What then?�
“I am only convinced of the determination of Madge Babbington to possess herself of those millions, and that she will stop at nothing to attain her ends.�
“Have you any more incidents to recount?�
“Yes. Incident number seven is the fact that when Madge Babbington was here yesterday, she took particular pains to give me warning that she intended to make the acquaintance of Carleton Lynne, to fascinate him, and finally to marry him.�
“Did she say that?�
“Yes; in the form of a warning.�
“But you read a different meaning in her words?�
“Yes.�
“What?�
“Chick, I believe that her real purpose in coming here to see me was to pronounce that very warning, and thus to open the way for an acquaintance with this Carleton Lynne which would not suggest the suspicion to me that the two had known each other before now.�
“I see.�
“The man is supposed to have come here out of the West—as he doubtless has done. He has the marks of the West upon him, all right. But he is supposed to know nobody here; he went to the length of informing me that he had not seen New York since he was a kid, to use his own expression. A sudden acquaintance between him and the woman lately acquitted of murder would attract my attention, so she comes here and deliberately tells me, with an assumption of bravado, that she intends to make his acquaintance at the first possible moment.â€�
“She’s got her gall with her, all right—to come here at all,â€� said Patsy.
“She has got her brains with her, too; don’t forget that, either of you,� said Nick.
“Well, what do you suspect the game to be, Nick?� asked Chick.
“I only suspect a game. What it is, I don’t pretend to guess,â€� was the reply. “Only, there is one thingwhich I cannot believe—which I cannot bring myself to accept.â€�
“The identity of this man who has appeared here as a claimant?�
“Yes.�
“You think that he is an impostor?�
“I suspect that he is; that is all.�
“And that there is perhaps another murder back of it all; the murder of the real Carleton Lynne?�
“I don’t know about that. That is going at it rather strong. It may be that the real Carleton Lynne has been dead a long time; or that he has been lost sight of for a long time. He may have gone to the Klondike with the rush and never have reappeared. There are a thousand and one things that may have happened to him, any one of which would give a clever impostor who had known him well in the past the opportunity; particularly if he were spurred to it by such a woman as Madge Babbington.�
“Or he may be lying now in a newly made grave somewhere, his papers and his birthright stolen by another,� suggested Patsy.
“Well, lad,� replied the detective, “that is what you are going to Idaho to ascertain. You are going there to trace every trail you can find of Carleton Lynne, and to follow one of them till it brings you here, if he is here; to wherever he is now, if he is not here.�
“Well, Chick?�
“Nothing, Nick.�
“You have been ten days on the trail of Carleton Lynne, now.�
“Yes; and for the last five of them he has been in possession of the fortune he came here to get. It seems to me that it was given up to him mighty easily.�
“That was in accordance with my advice, Chick.�
“It was? Why?�
“Because I drew the inference that the possession of the millions would throw him off his guard; and the woman, also.�
“I haven’t seen any effort on the part of the Babbington woman to make his acquaintance as yet,� said Chick.
“They are playing warily, that is all,� said the detective.
“You are still of the same opinion in regard to them?�
“More than ever so.�
“You have been watching the McQueen woman yourself, haven’t you?�
“Yes.�
“Discover anything?�
“Not a thing.�
“And that Miss Hunt? I haven’t had a chance to talk with you in so long a time that all is news to me, now.�
“I have not been able to locate her yet.�
“Is there any news from Patsy?�
“Three telegrams, each one the same, containing the word, ‘Progress.’�
“That means that he is on the trail of something.�
“Yes.�
“You say that you left Lynne at the opera to-night, Chick?�
“Yes. He is occupying the old Lynne box. It’s ‘Ernani’ to-night.�
“Who is there with him?�
“He is alone.�
“What? Alone in the box?�
“Quite. He has seemed to avoid making acquaintances. I concluded that he was safe there for a time. That is why I came around here to the house to see you, Nick.�
“I’ll go back with you, I think. If he is still alone in the box, I’ll call upon him.�
“Not a bad idea.�
“Have you seen anything of Madge?�
“Not a sign of her. I think she must have left the city.�
“Not a bit of it, Chick. Don’t get that idea into your head.�
“Well, if there was anything doing, don’t you think they would have got busy before now?�
“Not necessarily. The stake is a big one.�
“I know; but still——â€�
“They can afford to play a waiting game where the prize is so large. If the two are working together, it is easy enough now for him to supply her with money, and they can afford to stand back and wait until every breath of suspicion is gone.�
“I know; but there is another thing, Nick.�
“What is that?�
“Carleton Lynne has got all that money now. He doesn’t have to share any part of it with Madge Babbington. He can snap his fingers at her, and——â€�
“I see that you do not half know Madge Babbington, Chick.�
“Why not?�
“Well, if he undertook to snap his fingers at her, as you express it—if he refused to keep to any compact he may have made with her, she would pull him down into the dust, even if she crushed herself in doing it.â€�
“All the same, Nick, that chap strikes me as being a pretty cold proposition. I don’t believe you could scare him with a dynamite cartridge under his bed.�
“I’ll admit all that; but even he would think twice before he went too far in giving offense to the Babbington woman.�
They had left the house while they were talking, and walked through to Broadway, where they now boarded an uptown car, and, as there were only a few blocks to ride, they presently descended in front of the Metropolitan Opera House, and entered.
“You may go where you please, now, Chick,� said the detective, as soon as they had passed inside. “Takeup your task of trailing the man again, and don’t let up a little bit. I am convinced that something will come of it after a while.�
“Possibly,� replied Chick, with a shrug of his shoulders.
“And,� the detective went on, “I am not at all sorry for this delay in the perfection of their plans, if there are any plans. It gives Patsy time to finish his detail in the West; and I have a feeling that we will know a lot more about this affair when he returns from that trip.�
“I’m sure I hope so. Where are you going now?�
“Directly to that box.�
“Without first ascertaining if he is still alone in it?� asked Chick in surprise.
“Certainly.�
“He may not be there at all now. He may have gone to another box, and——â€�
But the detective was moving rapidly away, and Chick came to a stop, after which he turned about to seek a place from which he could again obtain a view of the Lynne box.
When he did find such a point of vantage he was rather surprised to discover that the box in question was empty—that Carleton Lynne was not there—and he began to turn his glance from box to box along the tier in search of him.
He discovered the man at last, in a box much nearer to the proscenium; and he saw that Lynne was chatting in an animated manner with a group of ladies and gentlemen who were occupying it.
He looked again, more closely, to discover who Lynne’s companions were, but decided that he did not recognize any of them; and then he gave a decided start of surprise, for one of the women who had been in the background moved forward, and he instantly recognized Madge Babbington in that woman.
As he made the discovery, Lynne turned to address some remark to her, to which she replied, and evidently made some further remark in return, for he arose, and Chick saw them leave the box together.
For a moment he was in doubt what to do, and then he remembered two things: One was that Nick Carter was somewhere up there near them, and the other was that neither of them had their street apparel with them. Hence they could not be leaving the opera house.
So he stood where he was, watching, and awaiting their return.
“Something is about to develop at last,� was his thought, for the ten days he had passed in trailing Carleton Lynne had been weary ones to him. It was the one element of detective work that he disliked.
In the meantime Nick Carter had gone directly to the Lynne box, had passed inside, and had made the same discovery that Chick did—that there was no one there.
Instead of stepping to the front of it, or withdrawing at once when he found that no one was there, he remained in the background and began to study the other boxes in search of Lynne, just as Chick wasdoing at that same moment from near the proscenium on the parquet floor.
Lynne was seated in that other box, so that Nick very quickly discovered him, although he could not see the Babbington woman when she stepped partly forward, at the time Chick discovered her.
He did see Lynne half turn to address somebody behind him, saw him leave his seat, and therefore assumed that he was about to leave the box altogether—and then he made two discoveries:
One was like Chick’s—that he did not know who any of the people were who were in the box where he had discovered Lynne; the other, and the more important one, was that in the box adjoining the one he was then in, on the right, were four persons whom he did know very well, indeed.
The discovery of friends so near at hand decided him on a course that had not occurred to him till that instant.
He jumped at the conclusion that Lynne was probably returning to his own box, since his coat and hat were still there, and that probably he was bringing some person or persons with him; and so Nick slipped quickly out of the box and, without announcement, entered the adjoining one occupied by his friends.
“Please don’t move or speak,� he said to them hastily, when they would have risen to greet him. “I want to listen. I’ll visit with you later.�
They supposed that he referred to the music when he said that he wished to listen, but his own idea wasto learn, if possible, what might be said in the other box that he had just quitted.
He seated himself upon a chair that was just far enough back from the front so that he would not be observed, and at once leaned his head upon one hand, holding the palm open as if the better to divert the sound of the singing and the orchestra into his ear—and in doing so shielded his face from any person who might chance to look around from the adjoining box.
Also he pulled a curtain a little aside, so that he could see as well as hear—and he was not as greatly amazed as Chick had been a few moments before when he saw that two women had followed Lynne into the box, and that one of them was Madge Babbington.
“At last,� was his thought. “The real game is about to begin.�
But if he had anticipated hearing anything of importance in the conversation that ensued—for not one of the three paid the slightest attention to the great opera—he was doomed to disappointment.
Their talk was of the most commonplace sort, and it appeared from what was said that Lynne had, indeed, only just been presented to Mrs. Hurd-Babbington.
Actual mention of the supposed fact was actually made more than once—too often, Nick thought; and, indeed, it was the only thing that made him suspect that the conversation was more or less a studied one.
But he was destined to hear just one thing which made his effort worth while, and that happened when the other woman gave her attention for a moment tothe stage, thus leaving Lynne and Madge for a instant to themselves; and it happened, too, that they were very close to the curtain beyond which Nick Carter was seated at the moment.
Even then, what was said was either quite a natural result of their meeting, or else it was carefully studied, in case it should be overheard.
“You are a charming woman, Mrs. Babbington,� Lynne said, in a low tone. “I wish that I might have an opportunity to know you better.�
“Then why don’t you seek one?� she retorted.
“May I? May I venture to call upon you?� he asked, with apparent eagerness.
“Would I turn a multimillionaire from my door?� she laughingly replied.
“Then I may come to you? When?� he demanded.
“You may come to-morrow, at three, if you like, and drink tea with me,� she said.
That was all; but it was sufficient, for Nick Carter, hearing it, decided on the instant that he would find a means to be there also.
The detective changed his mind about entering the box occupied by Carleton Lynne, for he had already heard enough to give him occupation for the ensuing day, and there was now nothing to be gained by an interview with either of the principals in the case.
Nick was desirous now of leaving the box into which he had intruded, even though the occupants of it were his friends; but he wished to leave it without attracting attention from the box adjoining.
He knew perfectly well that if either Lynne or Madge Babbington should chance to discover his presence so near to them, they would both realize that it was not chance that had taken him there.
They would be put on their guard again, particularly Madge, and there would be a longer interval than the one just passed before either of them would make another move to betray the secrets of the game they were playing.
Madge Babbington would be instantly on the alert if she were led to suspect that Nick Carter was so near to her at the very first interview—so the detective firmly believed—that she had had with Carleton Lynne.
After considering for a moment what was best to do, Nick turned, and managed to catch the eye of hisfriend, the owner of the box he was in, and he motioned for him to cross over, so that they could have a word alone together.
“Tom,� he said, in a whisper, “I want you to make my apologies to your wife and her guests, will you?�
“But you’ll stop and see them, and say hello, won’t you, after this act?� Stanton replied. “I know that Tillie will be greatly disappointed if you do not.�
“I’d like to, Tom, but you see I am here to-night on business. I found your box rather by accident, and took the liberty of dropping in to rest and to listen, as I told you; but now I must get busy again.�
“Well, later, then?�
“I’ll try to return, if I can; but I won’t promise. Now, be a good chap, and tell me that you’ll make my apologies, and I’ll slip out of the box without their knowing anything about it.�
Nick had drawn his friend to the rear of the box while they were whispering together, and they were standing so he could not see into the box adjoining; and so he was not aware of the fact that Mrs. Hurd-Babbington had stepped quietly out of it, and was, even at that instant, in the corridor at the rear of the tier.
With a nod and a smile at Stanton, the detective stepped quickly from the box, and—came face to face with the very woman whom he desired the least to see at that particular time and place.
She was standing there, too, precisely as if she were awaiting him; as if she had expected his coming,having known all the time that he was in the box next to her.
Well, the fat was in the fire, he argued to himself the instant he saw her, and so he governed his actions accordingly; that is, he merely inclined his head in token of recognition, and made as if to pass on without taking any further notice of her. In short, he acted precisely as he would have done had he not been watching her—had the encounter been purely an accidental one.
But Madge Babbington had no wish to permit him to pass in that manner, and whether she had been waiting for him or not could not be told from her manner. He knew that she was almost as perfect a master of her impulses and of the expression of her face as he was of his own.
She stepped directly in front of him, and so barred the way, and, with a flash of her strange eyes into his and a smile upon her lips that might have had its effect upon any man but Nick Carter, she said:
“We meet again, Mr. Carter. Quite by accident, I suppose?�
“Quite, madam.� And it was true so far as he was concerned, at least, in reference to the present encounter behind the tier of boxes.
“Are you sure that you are not here to watch me, Mr. Carter?� she asked, but without a suggestion of offense in her tone, even though she might have believed such to be the real condition.
He shrugged his shoulders and smiled back at her. He was on safe ground in what he was about to say.
“Madam,� he said, “you may assume whatever pleases you best in that regard, but the truth is that to-night is the first time in ten days that I have seen your face, or heard the sound of your voice.�
She lifted her chin, looked boldly into the detective’s eyes, and laughed softly.
“That counts for nothing,� she said. “I know you too well to take that statement for what you wished me to understand by it. You have a fashion of seeing with other eyes than your own, and of hearing with other ears than your own. The fact that you have neither seen nor heard me does not mean that you do not know of every move I have made, and have not been told of every word I have uttered during those ten days.�
“I perceive, madam, that you understand something about the detective business,� he replied, and attempted to pass on; but again she barred the way.
“I suppose you saw me in the Lynne box, from some other part of the house—no?â€� she said, tentatively.
“No, madam, I did not see you in the Lynne box from any other part of the house,� he replied.
“Then you were told that I was there.�
“I was not told that you were there, Mrs. Babbington. May I ask if you have occupied it all the evening?�
She looked into his eyes mockingly; then she laughed softly again, as if to herself, and about something that amused her greatly.
“No,â€� she said, replying directly to his question; “Ihave not occupied it all the evening. I am with some friends from the West who are farther along the tier. They—er—are long-time acquaintances of Mr. Lynne, and when we discovered that he was here, and alone, I induced them to send for him. He came, and we were presented. I thought, perhaps, you would be interested to hear about it.â€�
“So,� he said, “this marks the beginning of your campaign, does it?�
“Of my campaign?� she asked, raising her brows, as if she did not understand.
“The beginning of the effort to carry out the threat you made,� he added.
“A threat I made? To you, Mr. Carter? Surely, you are mistaken,� she smiled back at him.
“At least, you took it upon yourself on the occasion of our last interview, to give me what you were pleased to call a warning,� he said.
“Did I? A warning? Was I so foolish and childish as that? How absurd!� This time she uttered a little rippling laugh which was not unmistakable.
“How soon may we expect to receive cards, madam?� he asked her derisively.
“Cards, Mr. Carter? For the wedding that I prognosticated? Really, I couldn’t say, you know. The gentleman and I have only just met, you see. But, really, I feel that I have already made an impression. He has promised to drink tea with me at my home to-morrow at three.�
This statement, given voluntarily on her part, was a decided disappointment to the detective. He wouldhave preferred it otherwise—that she had not told him, for he had made up his mind that he would find a way to enter her house and to be present at that interview, and now it was plainly impossible to do so.
“Does she know that I was listening in the adjoining box, and that I overheard the making of the appointment?� he thought to himself. Aloud, he asked her:
“Were you returning to that other box, alone?�
“No; I am going back into this one. My friend is there. Will you come inside?�
“Thank you, no.�
“You have other business, then, than watching me?�
“I am never without much to do, madam.�
“Mr. Lynne seems to be a charming man,� she said irrelevantly.
“Quite so.�
“And his millions—how many are there, Mr. Carter?â€�
“You should know better than I. You have estimated them more than once, have you not?�
“Ah, yes, many times. There are a dozen, at least. Fancy!� Then, with a slight inclination of her head, and a quickly spoken “Good night, Mr. Carter,� she turned away from him and disappeared inside the Lynne box.
For a moment the detective remained where he was, thinking over what had happened, and endeavoring to account for it as best he could, and then he walked slowly away, going directly to the street.
He looked at his watch as he passed outside, and ittold him that the hour was half-past ten o’clock—and then an idea occurred to him which, because of the very boldness and strangeness of it, he determined on the impulse to carry out at once.
He glanced at his watch again, to make sure of the time, and saw that it was ten-thirty-two.
“They will not leave the opera house for another three-quarters of an hour, at least,� was the thought that went through his mind. “After that they will all go to Sherry’s, or Delmonico’s, or Louis Martin’s, for supper. Good! It will be one or two o’clock before she can return to her apartment. I’ll do it.�
The layman who reads these words will regard the thing that he so impulsively decided to do as unprecedented—and even a harsher term may be applied to it.
But, if there are those who would criticize the detective for what he had decided to do, and did do, remember that Nick Carter was certain of the real guilt of the woman in the matter of the murder of Edythe Lynne, and remember, also, that he was thoroughly convinced in his own mind that the man who was now in possession of the Lynne millions was an impostor.
Nick Carter was never one to quibble about trivial things, or to hesitate to perform an act because others might criticize it, if he regarded it as his duty.
And in this matter of the inheritance of the vast property left by J. Cephas Lynne he believed he had a bounden duty to perform.
He could never forget the moment when he had discovered the dead body of the beautiful heiress, at Pleasantglades.
She had been ruthlessly and wantonly cut off in the very prime of her young womanhood, in order that a scoundrelly cousin of her father’s, and this unsexed woman back there in the opera house, now smiling and talking and laughing, might possess themselves of the fortune.
Ever since the hour when he had followed the tracks in the snow between the great gateposts at Pleasantglades, and so had unearthed the crime that had been committed there, he had promised himself in his own silent way that those who had done that deed, and who had planned it and been instrumental in it, should never profit by reason of it.
There had been a time when he believed that he could convict Madge Babbington, as well as Thomas Lynne, who had actually done the murder; but that time was passed, and just now, if something heroic were not done to prevent, the woman would yet win all that she had desired in the beginning.
And so, Nick Carter, in that moment, decided that he would visit and search the apartment of Madge Babbington before she could return to it from the opera house.
That was what he had decided to do.