NICK TAKES A CHANCE.
Finally there came a knock on the door. Nick opened it and looked out.
Chick stood there.
“They are landed, all right,” he said.
Nick drew him aside.
“In five minutes’ time,” he said, “release Carrie, and see that she
leaves by the side door of the saloon. I will be there to pick her up.
Then leave the policemen here to guard these rooms, and take Molly to
the house. This place may have to be searched later.”
“Unless I am very much mistaken,” said Chick, “a couple of those crooks
are watching about the place. You may have company if you follow
Carrie.”
“So much the better,” replied Nick.
Five minutes later Carrie emerged from the side door of the saloon and
turned toward the East River. At the same time a man in a modest suit
of dark brown whirled into the side street and moved along rapidly,
whistling and swinging a cane as he walked. Two men standing across the
street followed along in the shadows.
The detective’s disguise was a good one. He had turned his reversible
suit, removed his false mustache, washed the convivial red from his
cheeks, and lined his face just a trifle, in order to make himself look
older and thinner. No one who had seen him at Hall’s place would have
recognized him now.
He passed Carrie at a swinging pace and turned at the next corner.
There he waited in a convenient doorway for her to pass. As she did so,
the two men crossed to the north side of the street, upon which the
girl was walking, and followed on behind her. Nick crossed to the south
side of the street, and walked along in silence, keeping abreast of the
girl.
“This is rather a chestnut,” he mused, “releasing a suspect and
following after, and Carrie may not go to Hughart. Yet she is not a
very wise person, and I am sure that Molly told her to communicate with
him.”
Nick knew very well that the two men who were following the girl were
on the same mission as himself. The gang had not yet given up the
notion of finding Hughart. They had shown both nerve and cunning in
the game, as far as it had been played, and he looked for some unusual
developments from them before the night was over.
Their presence complicated matters, but the detective could only follow
on and take chances when the time came.
After walking several blocks, Carrie entered an all-night restaurant
not far from the river, and seated herself at a table. From the
opposite side of the street, Nick saw the trailers peering through the
windows of the place, evidently in doubt as to the advisability of
entering.
Carrie ordered a cup of coffee and a sandwich. The waiter who brought
them remained at the table for a moment, and then talked briefly with a
sporty-looking fellow who sat behind the desk, apparently the cashier.
Nick sauntered in and took a stool at the lunch counter, not far from
the table where the girl sat. As he did so, the cashier approached the
girl and opened a whispered conversation with her.
“You’d better cut it all out,” Nick heard him say. “According to your
own story, things are getting mixed.”
Carrie whispered something which the detective could not hear. Then the
cashier said:
“Like a wild man. Getting tired of waiting, I guess.”
Another whisper from the girl.
“No, he has not been down here. Afraid, I guess. You keep out of it.”
The girl bent closer, and whispered at length.
“I’ll take the message,” said the cashier next.
Nick paid his bill and left the place. The two watchers were still on
the opposite side of the street.
As soon as Nick passed the square of light in front of the restaurant,
he turned into a stairway which led to the upper part of the building,
which was only three stories in height and without an elevator. The
hallway was not lighted, and, as soon as the detective stepped inside,
he was in darkness, broken only by a dim light coming through a transom
over a door connecting with the restaurant.
Turning to look back, he saw that the watchers were crossing the
street. Fearful that they might seek shelter in the stairway and so
discover him, Nick passed on to the first landing. There was a dim
light here, but the transoms above the doors showed that the rooms
opening from the hall were in darkness.
He passed on up the second flight of stairs, and found himself in a
narrow hallway with a window at each end. Lights showed in all the four
rooms on that floor.
Nick went to the back window and looked out. There was a fire escape
there, and he stepped out and hung to the rungs, his head on a level
with the windowsill. The windows of the rear room were open, and the
detective heard voices. They did not appear to come from that room,
however, but from an inner one next to it.
The fire escape was available from the windows of the back room, and
Nick moved along and looked in. As he suspected, there was no one
there. He could not see into the inner room, for the door was not in
line with the window.
There was, however, a door in line—the door of a closet, and this was
ajar.
“It is up to me to take a chance,” muttered Nick, and in a second he
was in the room making for the closet.
Before he reached the place of shelter, however, a figure appeared in
the doorway connecting with the inner room. Then a man sprang forward.
In an instant Nick had his revolver leveled.
“I have been looking for you, Mr. Hughart,” Nick said coolly. “You may
as well come with me.”
Then a woman’s scream came from the inner room, and Carrie appeared in
the doorway. She had gained the room by means of a stairway from the
restaurant.
The detective confronted the pair with his threatening revolver.
“Not a word,” he said. “Come! We want you, Hughart.”
“What for?” demanded the miner.
“You’ll learn that in time,” was the reply.
“And if I refuse to go?”
“Then you will be taken by force.”
Then Nick scented danger. He saw the eyes of the pair travel past him
and fix themselves on the door leading to the hall.
It is an old trick to place a person off guard, but this looked real to
the detective. The terror in Hughart’s eyes was not simulated.
Without lowering his weapon, Nick turned about. He was too late. As he
did so, a noose fell over his shoulders.
The rope was drawn taut, with the detective’s hands and arms between it
and his body.
Hughart and the girl sprang for the inner room as the rope fell, but
one of the men, gun in hand, barred the way.
“Well, Hughart,” he said viciously, “it has come to a show-down at
last.”
“What do you want?” demanded the miner.
“We want you.”
Hughart made a sudden spring for the man, avoided the shot, and
grappled him. The man who had been guarding Nick sprang forward to help
his companion, and in a second the detective was out of the rope and in
the fight.
Before the second man could draw his gun, Nick landed a heavy blow on
the jaw which sent him to the floor like a dead man.
Hughart was fighting like a madman, but would have been bested had the
detective not hastened to his assistance, settling the outlaw with a
terrific blow.
Hughart gazed at the detective in amazement.