THE CAPTURE OF NICK SMITHERS
During the next half-hour Nick Smithers and the young lady became very
confidential. She stated that she had just fifty dollars with her, but
did not show the money.
"My uncle is a strange man in some things," she said. "He keeps not less
than ten thousand dollars of my money in the house, and all in dollar
bills!"
"He certainly must be strange," said Nick Smithers. "Well, it will be an
easy matter for him to turn over the bills to you."
"Yes, Lancelot; but you will have to take care of the money for me."
"I'll certainly do that," was the swindler's quick reply, and then he
smiled to himself, over the glorious prospect ahead.
There was a dining-car attached to the train, and not long after the
conversation recorded above, the swindler asked his bride-to-be if she
would not take lunch with him.
"Why, yes," she answered. "I am very hungry, for I have not eaten
anything since yesterday."
"Then come at once," was the answer, and Nick Smithers led the way into
the dining car. He passed Nat, who was busy devouring a sandwich and a
piece of pie, but strange to say neither saw the other.
Nick Smithers and the young lady had just ordered an elaborate lunch,
when of a sudden the damsel gave a cry.
"Oh!"
"What is the trouble?" questioned the swindler.
"Do you see that man?" And the young lady pointed to a small individual
who had just entered the dining car.
"Yes. What of him?"
"He is my--my uncle!"
"Is it possible? Then he must be following you."
"He is!"
"Well, I shall protect you, so do not fear," whispered Nick Smithers.
"Remember, we are to be married to-day. He shall not stop you. He can't
do it, for you are twenty-one."
"Oh, Lancelot, I--I am so afraid!"
By this time the small man had reached the table at which the couple
were seated. He stared in amazement.
"Hullo, Miss Jacobotson, what are you doing here?" he cried.
"Don't touch me!" screamed the young lady, wildly. "Don't touch me."
"This young lady is under my protection," came loftily from Nick
Smithers.
"Really?" said the small man. "Since when?"
"Never mind since when. She is under my protection, and I do not want
you to molest her."
"Say, do you know who she is?" asked the little man, curiously.
"I do."
"Well, she has got to go back to the asylum, and that is all there is to
it."
"Asylum?" gasped Nick Smithers.
"That is what I said."
"I'll not go back!" screamed the young lady. "Lancelot, protect me!" and
she clutched the swindler around the neck.
"Do you mean to tell me she belongs in an asylum?" came faintly from
Nick Smithers.
"She does. She escaped from the lunatic asylum at Sarville yesterday."
"Wha--what is her name?"
"Mary Jacobotson. Her mind was turned years ago by reading romantic
novels, and she imagines she has an uncle who is keeping her money away
from her."
"Is she under the charge of an uncle?"
"No. Her father had her placed in the asylum, for he couldn't keep her
at home. Her father is a well-to-do builder of Hartford."
All this time the young lady, who was indeed insane, was clinging
tightly to Nick Smithers' neck.
"Don't leave me!" she implored. "I love you! Don't leave me, and you
shall have a million dollars and a rubber doll! Don't leave me,
Augustus! I implore thee, by the light of yonder stars!" And now she
began to rave.
"I--I reckon I made a mistake," said the swindler, much crestfallen.
"Let go of me!" And now he pushed the raving girl from him. The train
had stopped at a station, and in another moment the asylum keeper had
the patient on the platform, where she continued to rave. Then the train
moved on.
Sinking back in his seat at the dining-car table, the swindler mopped
the beads of perspiration from his forehead with his handkerchief. He
was utterly disgusted.
"That is where I certainly put my foot in it," he muttered. "But I can
be thankful I didn't marry the girl!"
"Sorry, sar, but you'll have to settle for this lunch," said the waiter.
"If so, I reckon I'll eat it," answered Nick Smithers, and proceeded to
do so.
Nat had watched the whole scene with interest. At first he was inclined
to confront the swindler without delay, but then reconsidered the
matter.
"I must go slow," he mused. "If I'm not careful he'll get away again."
When Nick Smithers left the dining car Nat followed him to the smoker
and saw the swindler settle down for a comfortable smoke.
"He isn't going to leave the train just yet," thought our hero. "I
shouldn't be surprised if he is bound for Albany. If that's so, I had
better wait until we arrive there. Then we'll be in New York State,
where the offense was committed."
The train rattled on, and at the proper time rolled into the big station
at Albany. Nat kept close behind Nick Smithers and at the same time
looked around anxiously to see if he could find a policeman.
It was not long before our hero sighted an officer of the law, gazing
curiously at the crowd leaving the train. At once he beckoned the
policeman to come to him.
"What's wanted?" asked the officer, anxiously.
"Do you see that man?"
"Yes."
"He is a swindler, who is wanted in New York City for swindling several
men and myself. I want him arrested. Be careful how you handle him, for
he ran away from me in Springfield."
"You are sure of this?"
"I am positive. But be careful, or he will get away."
"He won't get away from me," said the policeman.
Nick Smithers was hurrying for the street when Nat and the officer of
the law came up to him.
"Stop, Nick Smithers!" cried our hero, and caught him by the arm.
The swindler swung around, stared at Nat, and his face fell.
"This is the time you don't get away so easily," went on Nat. "Officer,
do your duty."
"You'll have to consider yourself under arrest," said the policeman.
"This young man makes a charge against you."
"Why, that young man is a lunatic!" cried Nick Smithers, thinking of
his experience on the train. "They let him out of the asylum only day
before yesterday."
"Don't you believe a word of it," said Nat. "This rascal is one of the
slickest swindlers in the world. Take him to headquarters, and I'll go
along and prove every word I say."
"You'll have to come along," said the officer.
"All right, I'll go," answered Nick Smithers, but an instant later he
started to run away through the crowd. Nat, however, was on guard, and
putting out a foot, he sent the rascal pitching headlong on the depot
platform.
"Hi! what did you do that for?" demanded Nick Smithers, on arising. And
he glared at our hero as if to eat him up.
"You'll come along with me!" came angrily from the policeman, and
without more ceremony he marched the swindler to the police station,
with our hero following.