NICK CARTER STORIES
New Magnet Library
PRICE, FIFTEEN CENTS
Not a Dull Book in This List
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Nick Carter stands for an interesting detective story. The fact that the books in this line are so uniformly good is entirely due to the work of a specialist. The man who wrote these stories produced no other type of fiction. His mind was concentrated upon the creation of new plots and situations in which his hero emerged triumphantly from all sorts of trouble, and landed the criminal just where he should be—behind the bars.

The author of these stories knew more about writing detective stories than any other single person.

Following is a list of the best Nick Carter stories. They have been selected with extreme care, and we unhesitatingly recommend each of them as being fully as interesting as any detective story between cloth covers which sells at ten times the price.

If you do not know Nick Carter, buy a copy of any of the New Magnet Library books, and get acquainted. He will surprise and delight you.

ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT

A Sharper’s Downfall

OR,
INTO THE NET
BY
NICHOLAS CARTER
Author of the celebrated stories of Nick Carter’s adventures,
which are published exclusively in the New Magnet Library,
conceded to be among the best detective tales ever written.

STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
PUBLISHERS
79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York

Copyright, 1903
By STREET & SMITH
——
A Sharper’s Downfall

(Printed in the United States of America)
All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign
languages, including the Scandinavian.

A SHARPER’S DOWNFALL.

CHAPTER I.
A SUCCESSFUL BURGLARY.

In Thirty-fifth Street, east of Fifth Avenue, there is a house conspicuous among its neighbors in that it differs in construction by being of the variety known as the English basement style.

Entrance to the house is secured through a door reached by one or two steps from the pavement. The dining-room of the house is nearly on a level with the street, while the parlors are on the second floor, reached from the lower hall by a flight of stairs.

The front parlor is enlarged and the front of the house ornamented by a bay window extending some three feet beyond the line of the house.

It was not so long ago that, at an early hour in the morning, a man carefully and cautiously lifted a sash in this bay window, and, thrusting out his head, sounded a low whistle as a signal.

Had any one been present on the opposite side of the street, or looking from the windows of the houses opposite, they might have seen another man cautiously come from a corner of the little courtyard in front, and, after a careful look up and down the street, return the signal in the same cautious manner.

Thereupon a bundle was let down from the bay window, which was quickly detached, the rope drawn back and another bundle lowered, which, as the other had been, was detached and the rope drawn up again, and this time to lower what appeared to be a heavy box.

Immediately after, something was thrown from the window which in shape looked like an old-fashioned portmanteau, but was smaller.

Then a man rapidly let himself down from the window until he was within four feet of the ground, when he drew a knife, cutting the rope above him.

This gave him a drop of at least four feet, but it left only a short end of the rope dangling from the bay window at a height not likely to attract the attention of a passer-by, the evident object of cutting the rope.

In the meantime, the man below had shouldered the heavy box and rapidly run down to the east, to the corner below, where he had been met by a man who had come from a carriage standing around the corner.

This one took the box from him, and the man rapidly returned to pick up one of the bundles concealed behind the fence and the article that had been thrown from the window.

As rapidly he ran down the street as before, the while the other man, who had come from the parlor floor by the rope, stationed himself across the street and anxiously looked up and down as if standing ready to make a signal.

As the man with the bundles disappeared around the corner, with no interference, the other dashed across the street, and, seizing the last bundle left, hurriedly ran to the east.

He had hardly shouldered this bundle and set out on his run when a man came into view at the corner on the west, quickly catching sight of the fellow running to the east.

He came from the west on a run, and, arriving opposite the house where these strange things had occurred, stopped a brief instant to look. He noted the open window and the dangling rope.

Without hesitation he hastily ran down the street to the east, but reached the corner too late for any purpose except to see a carriage some distance off, going at full speed.

This man was Nick Carter, the famous detective.

Nick immediately realized the folly of attempting to follow the carriage, which had so great a lead, though he was satisfied that there had been a robbery of the house and that the carriage contained the booty as well as the thieves.

He contented himself with sounding an alarm, in the hope that the attention of the policemen on the beats along which the carriage traveled might be directed toward it and their suspicion excited.

But, so far as he was able to judge, the only result of his alarm was to call to him a policeman from another direction than that in which the carriage went.

“What is it, Mr. Carter?” asked the officer, coming up on a run, and recognizing the famous detective.

“Robbery, I fancy,” replied Nick; “and that carriage contains the thieves and what they’ve stolen.”

“We’d have to be race horses,” said the officer, looking after the carriage now disappearing in the distance, “to overcome that lead.”

“No; it is useless to attempt to follow it,” replied Nick.

“Where was the job done?” asked the officer.

“Up there in Thirty-fifth Street,” replied Nick. “Is that your beat?”

“Yes, and I was over it half an hour ago.”

“They waited for that,” replied Nick. “Come with me and let us look at the house.”

They went back to the house, where Nick pointed out the open bay window and the short end of the rope dangling therefrom.

The officer went inside the little yard and found the rope that had been cut off lying on the ground.

He picked it up, and, looking at the end, said:

“This rope has been cut with a sharp knife.”

Nick joined him, and, looking at the end, agreed with the officer, while both wondered why it had been cut.

“Do you know who lives here?” asked Nick.

“Yes; the man’s name is Jacob Herron.”

“What is he?”

“A Wall Street man.”

“A broker or banker?”

“I don’t know what he is. A sort of speculator, I guess. Anyhow, he’s a pretty big man.”

“Well,” said Nick, “we ought to arouse the family and make an investigation.”

The two went to the front door, where the officer rang the bell several times without securing a response.

Then he beat on the door with his night stick, sounding an alarm on the stoop as well.

This finally aroused some one in the upper story, who raised a window to ask what all the row was about.

“Come down and let us in,” replied the officer. “You have been robbed.”

“Who are you?” asked the voice above.

“A police officer, and Mr. Carter, the detective,” was the officer’s reply.

The head was quickly withdrawn from the window, and, after the two on the stoop had waited what seemed to them a long time, a light flashed up in the hall and the door was immediately opened.

The two stepped in to see a young man of possibly twenty-six or twenty-seven years of age standing there with neither coat nor vest and his bare feet thrust into slippers.

“You say the house has been robbed?” asked the young man. “I see no indications of it.”

“They are not likely to be found in the halls,” said Nick. “But I should judge they are to be found in the parlor above.”

The young man without a word led the way up the stairs to a furnished hallroom, into which the stairs opened. Here he lit one of the lights of the chandelier, and Nick saw in a glance that the parlor in the front communicated with this furnished hall, occupying the whole width of the house.

They entered the parlor to discover little that was noteworthy. The window was open in the bay, and they could see in the parlor, what was not observable from the street, that a side window of the bay had been raised sufficiently to permit a rope to pass under the sash, and that the rope had been made fast around the division between the windows.

There had been little, if any, disturbance of the furniture. On a sofa in the corner lay a silver mug.

Nick pointed to the mug, without making comment upon it, however.

“What room is that at the rear of the house?” he asked.

“I suppose it might be called the library,” replied the young man, “since all the books that are in the house are there. It is the largest room in the house, and is occupied by the family in the evenings when the folks are at home.”

“Then the family is not at home?” asked Nick.

“No, Mr. Herron has gone to Chicago, and took his wife and daughter with him as a sort of a pleasure trip for them.”

“Who are you?”

“I am George Temple, a nephew of Mr. Herron.”

“Are you a member of this family?”

“In a way,” replied the young man Temple. “I am very intimate here, but I am here now only because the family are away. Uncle Jacob asked me to sleep here and guard their house in his absence.”

“Well,” replied Nick, “it doesn’t seem as if you guarded it much.”

“No,” laughed the young man, “I never heard anything until I heard the sound of the officer’s club on the door.”

“Take us into that rear room.”

Temple led the way across the hall to this room, which occupied the whole width of the house, lighting a jet of the chandelier.

If there had been no indications of a robbery elsewhere, there were plenty to be seen in this room.

Two handsome desks had been forcibly opened and rifled, the contents being scattered on the floor; that is to say, such as had not been carried away.

The drawers of the bookcases had been pulled out, their contents hastily pulled over, much having been thrown on the floor.

In a hasty glance about the room it did appear as if every object in it had passed under the hands of the thieves.

There was not a picture hanging straight on the walls, and there were many in the room.

“Mr. Temple,” asked Nick, “did your uncle keep anything of special value in this room?”

“What do you mean by special value?” asked Mr. Temple.

“Something which your uncle especially valued, was very careful of and generally kept hidden.”

“I know of nothing of the kind,” replied Temple. “Why do you ask that particular question?”

Nick pointed to the pictures, saying:

“It would look as if the thieves, in hunting for some special things which they did not find, had hunted behind every picture in the room. The inference is that they knew that some object of value, which they were anxious to obtain, was concealed somewhere within this room.”

The young man, Temple, looked curiously at the detective, as if the remark of Nick indicated a shrewdness not known to him, but he made no reply.

“Do you miss anything from this room?” asked Nick.

The young man closely examined the room, and, completing his investigation, came back to Nick to say:

“I miss two rather valuable bits of bronze that my uncle picked up abroad. However, it may be that before leaving on this journey these bronzes and other valuable things were picked up and locked away. You see, I only stay at the house occasionally, and though I am here nearly daily, I am yet not as familiar with it as if I was living here all the time.”

“What room were you occupying when we aroused you?”

“The front room on the fourth story.”

“Were there any servants in the house?”

“No; you see I only sleep here, and Uncle Jacob gave his servants a sort of vacation until his return.”

“The rooms on the floor above, who are they occupied by?” asked Nick.

“The front room by Uncle Jacob and his wife; the rear room by his daughter; and the room between as a nursery.”

“Take us to those rooms.”

The three mounted to the third floor, and on entering the front room the first thing that attracted Nick’s attention was a little house safe in the corner.

The door stood wide open and the safe itself was empty.

Nick examined the lock and saw that it was of the combination order.

Apparently the safe had been opened by one familiar with the combination.

“What was kept in this safe?” asked Nick.

“I don’t know; I never knew the safe was here. I have not been in this room in a long time.”

It was clear that every drawer and receptacle in the room had been rifled in great haste, articles having been thrown upon the floor in the most reckless manner.

Investigation showed that the daughter’s room in the rear had been treated in the same manner.

The little party now went down to the first floor, and, entering the dining-room, saw that it had been literally stripped of its plate.

“Was it valuable?” said Nick.

“On my word,” replied Temple, “I couldn’t tell you whether it was genuine silver or merely plated ware. My impression is that there was a great deal of silver here.”

“When will Mr. Herron be back?” asked Nick.

“He’s expected back to-morrow.”

Nick turned away after saying to the policeman that he had no further business there, and that the officer should make his report to the station house as quickly as he could.

He then left the house.

CHAPTER II.
ANOTHER PHASE.

The next morning Nick Carter had hardly concluded his breakfast when a card was brought to him by the servant.

He smiled as he read it, and, tossing it to his wife across the table, said:

“I expected that call, but hardly so early.”

He went into the parlor, where a middle-aged man rose to greet him.

“Mr. Carter, I presume,” said the visitor.

Nick bowed and requested his visitor to be seated, seating himself in such a position that the light fell on the face of his caller.

“My card has given you my name,” said the gentleman.

“Yes, Mr. Herron,” replied Nick; “I visited your house last night, or, rather, early this morning, but you were not at home.”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Herron, “and under circumstances that are not at all to my liking. I arrived home early this morning, and, on learning that my house had been robbed in my absence and that you had been promptly on hand to investigate, I have lost no time in coming to you, for I understand, from something you said to the officer, that you had no intention of following up the case.”

“That is so,” replied Nick; “unless I am especially retained in the case, it is without my province.”

“I am here to retain you, if you will take my retainer.”

“I should like to hear more about the case before I either accept or decline,” said Nick. “If it is an ordinary case of robbery, the police will deal with it.”

“First,” said Mr. Herron, “I would like to ask you what impression was received by you on your investigation last night. Evidently you think it is more than an ordinary robbery.”

“That was my impression last night,” replied Nick. “It seemed to me as if the men who robbed that house were searching for some one particular thing.”

“You are entirely correct,” replied Mr. Herron. “So well satisfied am I of that, that I believe that such things as were taken from the house, other than that particular thing, were so taken for the purpose of leading to the belief that it was a common burglary.”

“I should hardly go so far as that, Mr. Herron,” said Nick. “There were too many evidences of the work of skillful and professional burglars to justify that belief. But give me the facts.”

“Silver plate and jewelry were taken from the house to the value of probably $8,000. The jewelry was taken from a small safe standing in my wife’s bedroom.”

“Was that safe locked when you left town?”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Herron, “and the curious thing is that, before leaving town, I changed the combination without informing my wife of the change—a habit of mine always on leaving town.”

“Did you tell no one of that change?” asked Nick.

“I told no one, but, making a memorandum of it, placed it in my pocketbook.”

“And yet the safe was opened?” asked Nick.

“Yes, and without force.”

“I observed that your plate was kept in a dining-room safe?”

“Yes; and that has, also, a combination lock. That, however, was not changed, and was in the possession of the butler, who is an old and trusted servant.”

Mr. Herron paused a moment, and then went on:

“Of course, no one likes to lose a value of $8,000, but I would have been quite willing to have sustained that loss if that which I believe was the sole purpose of the burglary had been left me. It was for that that the desks and drawers were ransacked. That cost me, in actual outlay, $25,000, and, in the loss of its possession, deprives me of what I feel that I am justified in calling a large fortune.”

“What was that?” inquired Nick.

“The story is a long one to tell in all its details. But I will give it to you as briefly as I can.

“Some five or six years ago an acquaintance of mine, whom I knew to be a worthy man—an electrician of the name of Pemberton, who was a great experimenter—came to me with the statement that he was satisfied that he had discovered the practical principles of storing electricity and of operating a motor with a minimum of leakage, by an invention of his own.

“He had not the money to continue the experiments necessary to bring it to perfection.

“Becoming convinced of the value of the idea, I loaned him the money he required, with the understanding that, if it was successfully accomplished, upon the investment of a sufficient amount of purchase money, I should become interested and have a part ownership in the complete invention.

“From time to time I was forced to advance more money. But finally the experiments ended in complete success. Drawings were made, with a view to obtaining the patent rights, and even the papers which were to make me a half owner in the invention were drawn.

“About the time that everything was in readiness, the model even being completed, the electrician was taken suddenly ill and as suddenly died. The drawings and models were all in the possession of his widow. As soon as I could, properly, I made known to the widow what rights I had in the invention. While neither denying nor admitting my rights, she consulted a lawyer who had done business for her husband, who advised her not to admit my rights, but to see if she could not dispose of the invention in a more profitable way.

“However, by showing her that I had already advanced to her late husband some fifteen thousand dollars and the papers of co-ownership, which were drawn, but not signed, whereby I was to pay the expenses of obtaining the patents, and subsequently to invest fifty thousand dollars in the manufacture of the machine, I persuaded her to admit that I had actual rights.

“To bind and confirm her in this position I paid her ten thousand dollars, and thus got possession of the drawings and models.

“But she had already consulted some promoters, and the very day that she concluded this arrangement with me and delivered the models and drawings, on receiving my ten-thousand-dollar check, an offer, on its face more advantageous to her, was made.

“An effort was made by her and her friends to get out of the bargain entered into with me and a suit to recover the models from me was begun.

“At this time a new difficulty arose, and that was the doubt and difficulty as to the procedure in obtaining the patents. There had been, upon the part of my deceased friend, no assignment to me, and who was to act in obtaining those patents was a question.

“I was advised by my lawyer that the executors of the estate were the ones to move in it and that executor was the widow, who was in an antagonistic position to me, and refused to take the necessary steps.

“But the secrets of that invention—all the drawings, models, statements, papers relating to it—were in my possession.

“I carefully guarded these, going to the lengths of having a case built which should accommodate and keep safe all of them, under lock and key.

“And then I sat down to await developments.

“Various efforts have been made by the widow, through her lawyer, and by a number of promoters who, at least, know the value of the invention, to obtain possession of these things, but I have defeated every effort until now.

“That case, containing the drawings, models and all the papers relating to it, was stolen from my house last night.”

“And you desire to retain me to recover that case?” asked Nick.

“That is my purpose and the reason of my call.”

The great detective arose from his seat and began pacing the apartment, as was his custom when deeply thinking.

Several times Mr. Herron attempted to break him from his thoughts, but Nick imperatively motioned him to silence. At length, he stopped short, and, turning to Mr. Herron, said:

“Under your statement, there is justification for your belief that the sole object of that burglary was the obtaining of that case, which, you say, contains all the matter relating to the invention. Still, I am inclined to believe that that burglary was the work of professionals.”

“Then we are far apart in the way we look at it,” said Mr. Herron.

“Not necessarily,” replied Nick, sharply. “Let me ask you, are these promoters you speak of as desiring possession of this invention men who have a fair standing before the world?”

“Yes; I must admit that,” said Mr. Herron.

“Are they men, do you think, who would, in their great desire to obtain possession, themselves commit a burglary?”

“Oh, no; and I don’t want you to think that they are banded together against me. They are as antagonistic to each other as they are to me.”

“I should assume that, in any event,” said Nick. “But suppose that there was one so much more desirous than the other to obtain possession that he would even engage in desperate means, do you think he would commit a burglary? To take the chances of ruining his reputation by entering a house at night?”

“It is very hard to believe it, in the way you put it.”

“Very well, then. For the sake of my argument, let us assume that there is one among them who is unscrupulous enough to take desperate means, and see if we cannot get together on common ground. Suppose that, instead of committing a burglary, he hired some one to get possession of that case. Could we not, therefore, account for the disappearance of that case as being the real reason of the burglary, and yet meet my statement that the tracks of professionals were seen in the house?”

Mr. Herron leaped to his feet in excitement, crying:

“You’ve hit it! you’ve hit it exactly!”

“Don’t go so fast,” said Nick. “That is only a shrewd guess on my part, a supposition likely to be changed at the very first step that I make in a serious investigation. However, your case appeals to me, and I will take it. As a first step, I want you to go with me to my desk, and there carefully note down the names of all those promoters who you say have been trying to get possession of those papers. Write down, also, the name and address of the widow, of her lawyer and yours, and as full a description of the case you had made to contain those papers and models, together with a full list of the contents of that case.”

Nick took Mr. Herron into the room in which he did his work, and placed him at his desk to comply with his request.

While Mr. Herron was thus at work, Nick busied himself with summoning his three faithful aids—Chick, Patsy and Ida—by telephone.

By the time Mr. Herron had completed his writing, the three detectives had arrived, and Nick, dismissing Mr. Herron with the remark that three lines of investigation must be begun at once, devoted himself to a consultation with his three assistants.

CHAPTER III.
THE FIRST STEPS.

Nick related to his three aids, in the first place, his experiences of the night previous, when he had happened on the heels of the burglary.

This he followed by a statement of the information that had been given him by Mr. Herron, and, concluding, said:

“This promises to be a most interesting case. I am impressed with the straightforwardness of Mr. Herron. Still, there may be another side of his statement, or case, and he may not have been wholly frank with me, though I am inclined to believe he was. I shall immediately set out on that point.

“Under Mr. Herron’s statement, suspicion naturally turns to one of the parties anxious to obtain possession of that invention.”

“And to the widow,” said Ida.

“If not to the widow,” said Nick, “to some one representing her, or standing as a representative of her. But we must not lose sight of the fact that, after all, this may have been the commonest kind of a burglary and that the burglars took the case they found in the house simply because it was in their way to do so, and without the slightest knowledge of the value Mr. Herron and the others put upon it.

“To look after that end of it—that is, after those who actually did enter the house—must be Patsy’s work. It is a difficult job, Patsy, and I hardly know how to give you a starting point. But, if you will go to the neighborhood of Thirty-fifth Street and make careful inquiries, you may be able to find some one who saw something of those men and the carriage that will give you a starter.”

Patsy nodded, but seemed to be thinking of something else.

“Well?” asked Nick. “What is it, Patsy? You’ve got something on your mind. Out with it.”

“It’s this, chief,” replied Patsy. “Say, didn’t you say that his nibs, this Herron, had a case made to hold those papers?”

“Yes,” replied Nick.

“Well, then,” said Patsy, “the thing is whether anybody, except Herron, knew of this case.”

“You mean,” said Nick, “whether any of those who are opposing Mr. Herron knew that the models and papers were kept in a case especially made for them by Mr. Herron?”

“That’s what I mean,” said Patsy.

“It’s a very good point,” said Nick. “If they didn’t know, and if the knowledge of such a case was confined to Mr. Herron, it would go far toward throwing a doubt on his suspicions.”

“Yes,” said Chick, “it would raise a doubt; but, after all, there is that search through all the drawers and desks that you say was so plain and that made you think when you saw it that the thieves were looking for some one particular thing.”

“That’s just what I was thinking of,” said Ida. “If they were so strict in their search that they even looked behind pictures hanging on the walls, you may be sure that they didn’t leave any trunks, satchels, dress-suit cases or any other kind of cases unsearched, and, in doing that, might have hit upon this case, and, opening it and seeing the model, found just what they were after.”

“Nevertheless,” said Nick, “Patsy’s point is a good one, and, working on that line, he is quite likely to hit up against something. And so, Patsy, you would do well to see Mr. Herron, find that out and get from him the name of the person who made the case, and, perhaps, from that person you may find something of value. However, that is your line.”

Turning to Chick, he said:

“You take this list of promoters, Chick, and find out all you can about them—what sort of men they are and what their associations are.”

To Ida, he said:

“I want you to get acquainted with the widow and find out what you can. It is even hard to suggest what it is you are to find out. But if you get her confidence, she may tell you some things as to those who have made her offers that will be valuable in this inquiry. As for myself, I shall again go to the Thirty-fifth Street house to make a closer investigation, and I will take up the lawyer with whom Mr. Herron has consulted.

“Now, let us scatter and meet later in the day to compare notes and determine upon a plan of action in the light of more knowledge than we have now.”

Nick Carter’s first step was a visit to the house in Thirty-fifth Street, where he found Mr. Herron awaiting him.

“Since my return, I have carefully figured the value of the articles taken from the house,” he said to Nick. “All of the jewelry left in the safe in my wife’s room is missing. The value of that is about five thousand dollars. All of the plate that was genuine silver has also been taken. The value of that does not exceed twenty-five hundred dollars. Fortunately, Mrs. Herron had deposited in the safety deposit vaults the more valuable part of her jewelry some two weeks ago, as not being required for some months to come. Thus, the loss is figured down to about seven thousand five hundred dollars, apart from the case, concerning which I am so anxious.”

“Then,” asked Nick, “apart from that case, what was taken was from the safe in Mrs. Herron’s room and from the dining-room safe?”

“That is all,” replied Mr. Herron. “Now, I want to say that, with that case out of my hands, there stands me, in an actual loss, about thirty-three thousand dollars. My anxiety to-day is to secure the return of that case and its contents. In securing that I secure what represents to me an outlay of twenty-five thousand dollars. I am quite willing to sacrifice the other valuables in order to get that case back again. Indeed, I am willing to spend more money, and, with this statement, I turn the matter over to you to do as you think best, pledging myself to respond to any demand you may make upon me.”

Nick looked at Mr. Herron very seriously for a moment or two, and then said:

“I presume you know, Mr. Herron, that there is such an offense in the eyes of the law as compounding a felony.”

Mr. Herron nodded his head rather doubtfully, as if he did not comprehend wholly the words of Nick. The detective went on:

“Your words might be tortured into the meaning of instructions to me to compound this felony.”

“I do not intend,” said Mr. Herron, “to do anything wrong. I want to impress you with the idea that my main desire is to recover that case and its contents intact, even if it be at a considerable cost to myself.”

To this Nick made no reply, merely bowing, and said:

“There was a young man in the house last night with whom I talked, Temple by name.”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Herron, “a nephew of mine—the son of a sister—who, though not living with us, is, nevertheless, very intimate in the house. He slept here during the absence of the family, at my request.”

“Do not think, Mr. Herron,” said Nick, “that I am pointing to, or giving expression to, any suspicions in the questions that I shall ask. I am seeking all sorts and every little bit of information in them. Now, then, you trust this young man?”

“Utterly.”

“What are his habits?”

“Excellent.”

“He does not dissipate?”

“No; not in any direction. If he is under any criticism as to his course of life, it is that he is too much devoted to athletic sports, and that they have the only interest he has outside of his business relations.”

“What are his business relations?”

“He is the secretary and treasurer of a small manufacturing concern, of which I am the chief owner, and he is my representative in that affair.”

“Now, as to his associations?”

“He is a member of an athletic club and spends most of his leisure hours with its members, and, I have inquired to learn, they are a very proper set of young men, whose chief aim is to bring their physical powers to as near a point of perfection as possible.”

“What is that organization?”

“The Grecian Athletic Club.”

Nick made a memorandum of this club, and turned his attention to the safe in the dining-room.

A close investigation satisfied him that, by some means, the combination had been found, and the safe opened without force. He also found what had not been observed by Mr. Herron—that the draperies in the parlor had been used to wrap up the plate taken from the safe. Going to the smaller safe in Mrs. Herron’s room, there were also indications that that safe had been opened in a like manner.

Mr. Herron had stood by silently while the detective was making these investigations, and when Nick turned from them he asked:

“Well?”

“I told you this morning,” said Nick, “that I believed skillful and professional burglars had been at work here. A second examination satisfies me that I was right in that statement, and I go further and say that a skillful lockman was at work.”

“Ah!”

Mr. Herron made this exclamation, but in a tone that suggested to Nick that he did not comprehend its significance.

“You do not take in all my meaning,” said Nick; “it means that I can narrow the search for the burglars to a comparatively small circle. There are not so many skillful lockmen among the burglars who are not pretty well known to the authorities.”

Nothing had been changed in the house since the arrival of Mr. Herron and his wife, and Nick again went over the work done by the burglars in searching the desks, drawers and other receptacles in the house.

Though he made no comment, he was satisfied that while an exhaustive search had been made for some particular thing, it had been made without method or purpose. In other words, the thieves had proceeded to a search without definite information as to the place wherein the thing sought was kept.

Evidently, all that was known was that Mr. Herron kept these drawings and models within his dwelling-house, and that information might have come from Mr. Herron himself.

Nick questioned Mr. Herron on this point, but, when the gentleman could not recollect that he had ever told any one the fact, neither could he assert that he had not mentioned it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, Patsy?” asked Nick.

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

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

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

“What did you tell him?”

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

“Did you find out whom he suspects?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHAPTER IV.
OVERREACHING A SHARPER.

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

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

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

Spike spoke to them and they halted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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