ON THE TRAIL.
Nick Carter was a little perplexed.
Miss Violet Page had recovered from her sudden swoon, and although still
very pale she sat gazing calmly at the silver jewel casket, which Nick
was again displaying.
Somewhat to Nick's surprise, considering the girl's abrupt collapse upon
first beholding the casket, Miss Page had just declared that she had
never seen it before that evening.
"You never saw it before?" exclaimed Nick, almost incredulously.
"Never until you produced it from your desk a few minutes ago,"
reiterated Violet.
"Why, then, were you so overcome upon seeing it?"
"I will tell you why, Detective Carter, yet I fear that you will think
me very weak and foolish to have been so seriously affected."
"No; I think not."
"I had a terrible dream last night, sir," Violet now explained. "I
dreamed that I was alone in an enormous graveyard at midnight, with a
full moon revealing the dismal surroundings, the dark tombs, the
staring, white headstones and the silent graves."
"Not very cheerful--certainly," smiled Nick.
"What followed was infinitely more terrible," continued Violet, with an
irrepressible shudder.
"What was that?"
"I dreamed that I saw a grave near which I was standing suddenly begin
to open, as if a living being were pushing up the ground from within.
Then I saw a fleshless hand appear above the disturbed sods. Then a
sightless human skull thrust itself forth, and presently, filling me
with a terror I cannot describe, the entire skeleton emerged from the
partly open grave, and arose and approached me."
"A grewsome dream, indeed," remarked Nick. "But what of the casket?"
"This of the casket, sir," concluded Violet. "In the skeleton's right
hand, which was extended straight toward me while he approached, was a
silver box--the exact likeness of the one you hold, and which you so
abruptly showed me a short time ago."
"Ah, I see," nodded Nick.
"In my present nervous condition, Detective Carter, the sight of the
real casket, after so horrible a dream, was more than I could sustain.
Fairly before I knew it, I had fainted."
"A curious dream and a startling sequence," said Nick. "Evidently coming
events have been casting their shadows before. I am sorry to have
shocked you so severely."
"Pray don't speak of it, Mr. Carter," protested Violet. "I am now quite
recovered."
"Then we will at once proceed to business again," said Nick. "Am I to
infer, Miss Page, that you know nothing at all about this casket?"
"Absolutely nothing, sir," declared Violet.
"Have you ever heard your maid, Mary Barton, speak of possessing such a
jewel box?"
"Never, sir."
"Nevertheless," said Nick, pointedly, "this casket was found beside her
dead body in Central Park this afternoon."
A half-suppressed cry broke from Violet upon hearing this.
"Oh, sir, then that must have been the package mentioned by Harry
Boyden," she cried, excitedly.
"What's that?" demanded Nick. "Have you seen Boyden since his arrest?"
"Yes, sir."
"When and where?"
"He was arrested at my home about half-past six, sir. When I learned for
what and heard the particulars, I was advised by my landlady to appeal
at once to you."
"Did you come directly here?"
"I did, sir; as fast as a carriage could bring me."
"Ah, now we shall get at it," declared Nick. "Tell me, Miss Page, just
what Boyden said about Mary Barton."
"Why, sir, he said he left her alive and well about half-past five."
"Where?"
"On her way through the park," replied Violet. "He had met her about
five o'clock, and they walked about in the park for a short time. Then
he told her that he had an errand to do, after which he was coming to
call upon me. Then Mary laughed and replied that she would see him
later."
"That doesn't smack very strongly of suicide, Chick," remarked Nick,
with a glance at the former.
"I should say not," replied Chick, with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Did Boyden know where Mary went after he left her?" inquired Nick,
reverting to his visitor.
"No, sir. He declared to the officer that he did not."
"What mention did he make of a package carried by the girl?"
"He stated that Mary had what appeared to be a small, square box, done
up in brown wrapping paper, and secured with a string."
"Did he make any inquiries about it?"
"He asked her what it was, and she told him it was for me."
"Did she tell him where she got it?"
"Yes, sir, she did; and I am quite mystified by it."
"Please explain," said Nick. "What did the Barton girl say about the
parcel?"
"She said it was given to her by a woman whom she had met on Fifth
Avenue a short time before."
"An acquaintance?"
"No, sir; a strange woman," continued Violet. "Yet the stranger must
have known Mary, and that she lived with me, for she asked her if I was
at home."
"And then?"
"When told that I was, she gave Mary the package and asked her to
deliver it to me, into my hands only, as it was a gift from a friend."
"Was the name of the friend mentioned?"
"I think not, sir. The woman cautioned Mary against opening the package,
stating in explanation that she wished me to be the first to see what it
contained."
"These are the facts which Mary Barton told to Harry Boyden, are they?"
demanded Nick, with an ominous ring stealing into his voice.
"Yes, sir, they are."
"And the statements which Boyden, in turn, made to the officer by whom
he was arrested at your home?"
"That is right, sir. I heard them from Harry's own lips."
"Did Mary Barton have any idea of the identity of the woman from whom
she received the package?"
"I think not, sir. She told Harry that the woman was veiled, and that
she could not see her face. The incident seemed so strange, sir, that
Mary gave Harry Boyden all of these particulars."
"Did she describe the strange woman, her form or her attire?"
"I think she stated that the woman was plainly clad. Nothing more
definite that I know of."
"In fact, Miss Page, you have now told me all that you know about the
case, haven't you?"
"Really, sir, I think I have," admitted Violet, with a look of anxious
appeal.
Nick drew out his watch and glanced quickly at it.
"Ring for a carriage, Chick," said he abruptly. "We have no time to
lose."
"I'll call one at once," nodded Chick, as he sprang up and hastened from
the room.
"Am I to depart now, Detective Carter?" asked Violet, beginning to
tremble. "Oh, sir, will you not give me some word of encouragement
before I go? I am sure that Harry Boyden never committed--"
"Hush!" interposed Nick, rising and taking her kindly by the hand.
"I cannot at present tell you, Miss Page, what I think of this case. I
will say this, however, if Harry Boyden is, as you so firmly believe,
innocent of this crime, I will not rest until I have proved him
guiltless."
"Oh, Detective Carter, how am I to thank you?" cried the girl, with her
tearful eyes raised to Nick's kindly face.
"By not trying to do so," said he, smiling. "And by carefully following
a few directions which I shall now give you."
"I will follow them to the very letter, sir," cried the grateful girl.
"First, then, go home and borrow no further trouble about young Boyden,"
said Nick, impressively. "Second, disclose to no person that you have
called upon me, or that I have any interest in the case. Third, say
nothing about the jewel casket, and display no personal knowledge of the
affair. Fourth, do not come here again unless I send for you. And,
finally, rest assured that I will do all in my power to have young
Boyden at liberty as soon as possible. To remain in custody a short
time, however, will not seriously harm him, and in a way it may do me
some service. Can you remember all that?"
"Indeed I can, sir; and I will obey you in all!" cried Violet, with much
feeling.
"That's right," smiled Nick, as he escorted her to the door. "You shall
not lose anything by so doing."
"Ah, I am sure of that, sir. You are so very kind, and I am so glad that
I came to you."
"Well, well, we shall see," laughed Nick, with a paternal caress of her
shapely white hand. "By the way, Miss Page, since I now happen to think
of it," the crafty detective indifferently added, "wasn't there a Hindoo
juggler, or snake charmer, or something of that sort, connected with
your late vaudeville company?"
"Oh, yes, sir! Pandu Singe."
"Ah, that is his name, is it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Is he still in the city?"
"I am not sure, Mr. Carter; but I think that he may be, for he is signed
with the company for next season."
"Do you know where he has been living?"
"Yes, sir. I have seen his house address on letters forwarded to the
theater. Do you want it, sir?"
"If you can recall it, yes," smiled Nick, producing his notebook. "I am
making a study of the Hindoo language just at this time, and I would
like to consult Pandu Singe about certain books on the subject."
Miss Page did not suspect any duplicity in this, and she cheerfully gave
Nick the address of the snake charmer, whereupon the detective
graciously thanked her, and then escorted her to her waiting carriage.
As it rolled rapidly away a second hack came bowling up to the curbstone
in front of Nick's residence. It was the carriage for which Chick had
sent a call.
"Don't cover your horses, cabbie!" cried Nick, sharply. "Wait about
three minutes, and we'll be with you."
"Right, sir!"
And Nick dashed back up the steps and into the house, meeting Chick in
the hall.
"What do you make of it, Nick?"
"Make of it?" cried Nick, with a laugh. "It's a cinch, Chick, dead open
and shut. Grab your hat and come with me. I'll explain in the carriage."
"Good enough! I'm with you, old man!"
"And we have no time to lose," cried Nick, "Now, then, we're off."