A STRATEGIC MOVE.
Nick Carter had a head that was used to hard knocks, and it required
more than one to put him down and out for any considerable period.
The great detective recovered consciousness within half an hour after
the blow received from Rufus Venner, and he fell to taking the measure
of his situation the moment the cobwebs began to clear from his brain.
He found himself bound hand and foot with ropes, and lying upon the
floor of a dark room. That he was in the dwelling occupied by the
Spanish dancer, Nick had not a doubt.
As his mind became clearer and his eyes accustomed to the darkness, Nick
discovered a narrow thread of light some yards away and close to the
floor, and presently the sound of lowered voices faintly reached his
ears.
"A light in the next room," he said to himself. "Probably the whole gang
is out there, sizing up my case, and deciding what to do with me. If
they are there, I must get a better look at those two ruffians. I owe
them something for their work of to-night, and I always mean to pay such
debts.
"One of them was called Dave, and it may have been Dave Kilgore himself.
In which case, by Jove! I was right in thinking that this diamond
robbery only masks some deeper and bigger game.
"I wonder if they suspect my identity. If not, what sort of a game have
they been playing here to-night?"
Nick very quickly measured the various possibilities of the unusual
situation.
If the man whose name he had heard was indeed David Kilgore, then Rufus
Venner, as well as Cervera, might be in league with the diamond gang,
and the pretended robbery only a move made with some secret design.
On the other hand, Venner might be entirely ignorant of Kilgore's
identity, and without any serious suspicions of Cervera, being himself a
blind victim of these notorious criminals.
"If the latter is the case," reasoned Nick, "the gang may stand in fear
of me, and perhaps are afraid that I shall foil some scheme they have in
operation, or are about to undertake. Then they to-night may have aimed
only to discover the extent and nature of my suspicions.
"If that is the case, plainly it will become me to be a little foxy. I
will see if I can contrive to overhear anything from out yonder."
Bent upon wriggling nearer the closed door revealed by the thread of
light near the floor, Nick quietly turned upon his side and cautiously
worked his way over the carpet.
He had covered scarce a yard, however, when the sharp, metallic ring of
Cervera's voice fell plainly on his ears.
"Look again, one of you," she curtly commanded. "See if that vagabond
has come to himself."
"That's your humble servant!" thought Nick.
He quickly rolled back to his former position on the floor, and prepared
to play the fox.
In a moment the door was thrown open, admitting a flood of light, and a
man strode into the room and dropped to his knee beside the motionless
detective.
"I say!" he harshly growled, shaking Nick roughly by the shoulder.
"Brace up, you dog! Brace up, d'ye hear?"
Nick groaned deeply, then slowly opened his eyes.
"Oh, my head--my poor head!" he muttered, like one dazed and in pain.
"Your poor head, eh?" sneered the other. "You're dead lucky to have a
head left you. Pull yourself together, do you hear?"
"Let me be! Where am I?"
"You'll soon find out where you are. Sit up here!"
"What do you say?" cried Venner, from the next room. "Has he come to?"
The man at Nick's side turned his head to reply, and Nick then obtained
a clear view of his profile.
"Humph!" he mentally ejaculated. "Matthew Stall in disguise! One of the
diamond gang, sure enough, and I now know I am on the right track."
"Yes, he's finally coming to time," cried Stall, in reply to Venner. "He
will be all right in a minute."
"Bring him out here," commanded Cervera, sharply. "Get the wretch up,
and bring him out here."
This was precisely what Nick wanted.
Stall immediately bent lower, and released the detective's ankles.
"Get up, you varlet!" he then growled. "Get up, I say!"
Still groaning, and incoherently muttering, Nick permitted himself to be
raised to his feet, and Stall then supported him and urged him out
through the open doorway and into the adjoining room.
In his red wig and croppy head, together with his rough attire and dazed
aspect, Nick certainly presented a wretched appearance. He blinked
confusedly, glanced down at his bound wrists, yet at the same time took
in every feature of the brightly lighted room.
It plainly was the library of the house, and both Rufus Venner and
Cervera were seated near a handsome center table. Upon it lay most of
the woman's jewels and diamonds, evidently lately removed, and
presenting in the rays of light from the chandelier above a dazzling
temptation to such a fellow as Nick then appeared to be.
In an easy-chair, near the wall, sat the man called Dave, at the time
Nick was thought to be dead outside. Now, in the bright light of the
room, Nick instantly recognized him to be David Kilgore, despite a heavy
disguise which the criminal obviously believed to be impenetrable.
Nick gave no sign of the recognition, however, being content to await
developments, and to shape his own course accordingly.
From that moment, however, the name of neither criminal was once
mentioned; and Nick was compelled to infer that Venner might indeed be
entirely ignorant of their true identity and knavish character.
The eyes of all were upon the detective, as he stood swaying slightly
on the floor; and Cervera sharply demanded, with a threatening frown:
"Well, you vile miscreant, what can you say for yourself?"
"Me?" queried Nick, pretending to pull himself together. "Nothing at
all."
"I guess that's right."
"What should I say? Why have you got me here, and tied up in this
fashion?"
"You'll soon find out," cried Cervera, with vicious asperity. "What were
you doing out back of my house?"
"Nothing much," Nick evasively growled, waiting to learn which way the
cat was about to jump.
"Nothing much!" sneered Cervera. "You'll find that will not go down with
us."
"I was looking for a chance to sleep in your stable," muttered Nick.
"You lie, you dog!" cried Kilgore, fiercely. "You were at the back
window."
"Was I?"
"And your game was to rob me of my jewels," Cervera angrily added, with
her eyes emitting a gleam as fiery as the blazing gems at which she
pointed. "That was your game, you renegade!"
"Do you think so?"
"I know so!"
Nick hoped she did.
"And all I regret is," added the vixenish Spaniard, "that the bullet of
my watchman did not end your villainous life."
"We can end it now, señora, if you say the word," put in Matthew Stall,
with grim readiness.
Nick never accepted such scenes as this at their face value, for he had
witnessed many a similar game of bluff. This one might be all right and
on the level, he reasoned, yet there still existed the possibility that
he was recognized, and that these remarks implying the contrary were
only a part of some well-laid plan.
"If you think I'm a thief, why don't you hand me over to the police?" he
shrewdly demanded.
The ruse worked. For a moment Cervera was caught with no ready reply,
and Nick promptly decided that he was known, hence could not well be
given to the police.
Yet these parties so obviously aimed to hide the fact that he was known
to be Nick Carter, that Nick quickly resolved to let them have all the
rope they wanted, and to meet them with a counter-move--that of boldly
declaring his own identity, and so disarming them of any misgiving that
he had recognized Kilgore and Matthew Stall, or even had any suspicions
of Señora Cervera.
It was a very clever counter, and Nick went at it cleverly.
"Why don't you give me to the police, if you think I'm a thief?" he
repeated, when Cervera made no reply.
"The police?--bah!" she now cried, with a sneer. "For what? That you may
square yourself in some way, or make your escape, and then come back
here to attempt the job again?"
"H'm!" thought Nick. "They don't want to let me go before learning what
I suspect. I won't do a thing but fool them in that."
"Police be hanged!" Cervera quickly added. "In my country we have a
surer way of removing such villains as you."
"What way?" queried Nick, coolly.
"_Caramba!_ The garrote!"
"Choke 'em off, eh?"
"Or the poniard!"
"A stab between the ribs, I take it."
"Yes! It is what you deserve."
"But you will not try it on me," declared Nick, confidently.
"Don't you be too sure of it."
"Oh, I'm sure enough of it."
"The law would never reach us--don't think that," cried Cervera, with a
passionate sneer. "_Caramba!_ we'd plant your miserable bones where
they'd never be found. Don't think, you wretch, that we fear to do it."
"Yet I don't fear that you will."
"You don't?"
"Not I, Señora Cervera."
"How dare you utter my name with your foul mouth?" screamed the dancer,
with a vicious display of scornful resentment. "Not kill you? I've a
mind to order it done at once, you wretch! I hate such reptiles as you!"
Nick laughed.
"If you were to order it done, señora, and the knife were at my throat,"
said he, "your order would certainly be countermanded."
"What! By whom?" cried Cervera, with her passionate, dark eyes fiercely
blazing. "I'll have you know that I rule here--and not here alone!"
"Yet your command would be revoked, señora."
"For what reason, villain?"
"It would be revoked at the request of our mutual friend, Mr. Rufus
Venner, to whom I presently shall explain my conduct, and also implore
your own pardon, señora, for having made you the mark of my very
unworthy suspicions," cried Nick, with a sudden dramatic display of
dignity and confidence.
It brought Venner sharply to his feet.
"Good heavens!" he cried. "What do you mean, sir?"
"Ay, what do you mean?" roared Kilgore, bracing straight up in his chair
and reaching for his gun--a move Nick pretended he did not see.
"I only mean, gentlemen, that I am no burglar," cried Nick, in his
natural voice, at the same time raising his bound hands to remove his
disguise. "Allow me, Mr. Venner, to present myself in proper person."
"The devil and all his followers!" yelled Venner. "You're--you're Nick
Carter!"
"None other," bowed Nick, smiling and tossing his disguise upon the
table. "Plainly, Venner, you are greatly surprised at seeing me--and I
do not wonder at it."
Yet for all that Nick did wonder a little, since he could not yet
determine just how much of this scene was on the level.
The faces of Kilgore and Matthew Stall, however, betrayed more secret
exultation than surprise. Plainly enough both were now convinced that
Nick did not recognize them, nor even suspect that he himself had been
recognized--and these were precisely the two convictions Nick had aimed
to convey by his masterly move in thus disclosing himself.
"Yes, Señora Cervera," he hastened to add, before any of the startled
group could speak, "I owe you a profound apology. I did you the
injustice to suspect you, not only of being a thief, but also of being
identified with the notorious Kilgore gang, three of the cleverest and
most dangerous swindlers in the world."
"Perdition!" gasped Cervera. "You astound me."
"I was led to suspect you, señora, because your letter to Venner took
him from his store just at the time of the robbery," Nick quickly went
on to explain, thus putting his own strategy on a solid basis. "I
shadowed you from the theater to-night, intending to watch you and your
house, a design which has nearly cost me my life at the hands of your
faithful watchman.
"I am glad to add, señora, that I now have completely changed my views,
and I trust that you will bear in mind that you were a stranger to me,
and so pardon my unworthy misgivings. It is impossible that you, Señora
Cervera, could be guilty of any evil, or know aught of so accomplished a
knave as David Kilgore, or any of his clever gang."
A shrewder move could scarce have been conceived. That Nick would thus
have declared himself in the very presence of Kilgore, if known to him,
seemed utterly absurd; and the eyes of both Kilgore and Matt Stall were
aglow with a vicious amusement and satisfaction much too genuine to be
entirely concealed.
"Well, Mr. Carter," cried Venner, now hastening to release the
defective's hands, "you certainly have had a close call, and are lucky
to come out of it with a whole skin. These two men are employed by
señora to guard her house at night, and they naturally mistook you for a
burglar."
Despite his keen discernment, Nick could not determine whether this man
was lying, or was really as blind as his words implied. Content to await
further discoveries, however, Nick laughed quickly, and replied:
"Well, well, Mr. Venner; I am quite accustomed to close calls and hard
knocks, and I assure you that I bear the señora's watchmen no ill will
for having done their duty as they saw it. Señora Cervera is to be
congratulated upon having secured the services of two such faithful
fellows."
Kilgore had all he could do to keep from laughing aloud, so blinded was
he by Nick's artful duplicity.
"And when I inform you, señora," cried Venner, "that Detective Carter is
in my employ, and is really a royal good friend, I am sure that you will
pardon him for having been so misled by your letter of this morning."
Señora Cervera was blushing now, yet to Nick it appeared a little
forced, and there was in her evil, black eyes a gleam he did not like.
Yet she at once arose and came to shake the detective by the hand.
"Oh, if my dear friend, Mr. Venner, says it is all right, I am sure it
must be so," she cried, smiling up at Nick. "But I am afraid, Detective
Carter, that you will now think me dreadfully severe, and my two
watchmen more brutal than bulldogs."
Nick laughed deeply, and glanced at the display of diamonds on the
table.
"When one has such valuable toys as those in her house, señora, bold men
and vigilant bulldogs are both essential," said he, heartily.
"That's true, sir; indeed, it is."
"And with your permission, señora, I will shake hands with your two
watchmen also, to show them I bear no resentment. After which I will
take myself home, to nurse my little tokens of their vigilance and
prowess."
This brought a laugh from all, and Nick, ever shrewd and crafty, now
shook hands with the two criminals he fully intended to finally land
behind prison bars. Then he bowed himself out of the room, and was
accompanied by Rufus Venner to the front door of the house, where he
bade him a genial good-night and departed.
When Venner returned to the room, he found Dave Kilgore seated on the
edge of the table, with his false beard in his hand, and a look of
intense distrust on his evil, forceful face.
"Crafty--infernally crafty!" he cried, as Venner entered. "I tell you,
Rufe, that man must be watched. He is a man to be feared--constantly
feared! I'm cursed if I can tell whether he gave us that on the level or
not."
"Pshaw!" sneered Venner, contemptuously. "Of course it was on the
level."
"I'm not so sure of it--not so sure of it!" reiterated Kilgore, with
clouded brow. "I tell you, Venner, that he must be watched, and we must
be guarded. We have too much at stake to suffer Nick Carter to queer our
game."
"There is one sure way of preventing it," cried Cervera, with passionate
vehemence.
"Kill him?"
"Yes! Take his life!" hissed the dancer, through her gleaming white
teeth. "You were fools to have missed it to-night. Even the law would
have acquitted you."
"There are nights to come!" Kilgore grimly retorted.