WARM WORK.
“Great guns!” exclaimed the chief. “What has happened, Mr.----”
“Call me Nicholas,” hissed Nick, clinging to the chief and with lips
close to his ear. “I’m shot!” he cried again. “Some one fired into the
telephone box from the court. Help me to my room! Send for a
doctor--quick!”
There was a great commotion in the hotel office.
The clerk, the porters and the bell boys came running to the scene,
inquiring excitedly about the shooting.
The chief turned Nick over to two of the porters, and he was carried
upstairs to his room and laid on the bed.
At every step of the upward journey the detective let out a groan of
pain.
One of the bell boys rushed away for the house physician.
The porters lingered in Nick’s room, and so did the clerk, who had
accompanied them.
“Don’t stay in the room, so many of you,” moaned Nick; “my nerves are
all on edge. Where’s the doctor? Isn’t he coming?”
The clerk motioned to the porters, who at once withdrew.
“The doctor will be here in a minute--ah, here he is now!”
The doctor entered hurriedly, hatless and with his medicine case under
his arm.
“What in Sam Hill is the matter?” he cried. “Man shot, right in the
hotel, in broad daylight? Outrageous! Unheard of!”
“It’s a fact, nevertheless,” murmured Nick, “and I’ve got it good. Leave
me alone with the doctor, please,” he added, turning to the clerk.
The clerk went away, closing the door softly behind him.
Then Nick sat upon the edge of the bed, a half smile on his face.
“Why--why, what are you doing that for?” queried the astounded doctor.
“Sh-h-h!” whispered Nick. “The wound is nothing--it simply grazed my
shoulder. A piece of court-plaster is all it needs. If you have that
with you, doc, you can fix me all right in a jiffy.”
“You acted as though you were half killed,” grumbled the doctor.
“That’s all right,” Nick went on, in a low tone. “I’m a detective, and
I want it to appear as though I have received a bad wound and may be
laid up for a month. Are you willing to help out the cause of justice by
creating such an impression?”
“I don’t understand----”
“Of course you don’t, and it isn’t necessary that you should. I want you
to come here about every three hours and pretend to have seen a patient.
That’s easy enough, isn’t it? Here’s a twenty to pay you in advance for
your services.”
“All right,” answered the physician, taking the money. “Now let me see
the shoulder.”
Nick divested himself of coat and vest and opened his shirt at the neck.
The wound was only a slight one, as the detective had said, and the
doctor quickly attended to it and prepared to leave.
“Mind,” warned Nick, “you think I may be laid up for some time.”
“All right,” laughed the doctor. “You detectives are queer fish.”
“We have to be,” answered Nick, stretching himself out on the bed again.
The chief came in just as the doctor went out.
“How do you find him, doc?” the chief asked, anxiously.
“Serious,” was the answer; “he may be laid up for a month.”
The doctor went away, and the chief came up to the side of the bed.
“This is too bad, Nicholas!” he exclaimed.
“Lock the door,” said Nick.
The chief was surprised at the strength of the detective’s voice.
When he locked the door, he turned around and found the detective
sitting up.
“Say,” muttered the officer, “what in thunder does all this mean?”
“It means that I am faking,” replied Nick.
“Faking?”
“That’s it. I wasn’t badly wounded: only scratched.”
“Who could have done it? What was the motive?”
“The motive was to put me on the retired list. Can’t you imagine who
would want to do that?”
“The bank robbers!”
“Exactly. They have discovered that I am at work on the case, and they
have tried to take time by the forelock and do for me. It isn’t the
first time such a thing has happened, but it is the first time a
telephone was ever used as a trap. That was rather clever.”
“I’m over my head, Nicholas; I can’t get next to you.”
“It was a put-up job to get me out of the way, chief. I was called into
the telephone box by a man who told me I could call him the man from
Montana. This fellow acknowledged that he had lured me there for the
purpose of having me shot. That much he told me, and then his
confederate in the court blazed away.”
“The audacity of it!” exclaimed the amazed officer.
“More proof that these bank robbers are old hands. Did you look around
the court?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t find a trace of anyone who might have committed the
outrage.”
“I hardly expected that you would. It was well planned.”
“But why did you act as though you were half killed?”
“Because I want these scoundrels to think that their murderous plan
succeeded. If they believe that I am out of the way, it’s the biggest
kind of a trump in my hand.”
“By Jupiter, that’s a fact! You’ve got a head on you, and no mistake.
Why, you weren’t more than half a second in evolving the plan, were
you?”
“Not much longer, chief. The point that now confronts us is this: This
farce will have to be carried through to a finish. While I am working
outside, the general impression must be that I am laid up in this room.”
“We can work that all right.”
“I think so. The doctor already has his instructions. If you will put
one of your trusty plain-clothes men next to the scheme, and send him
here as a sort of nurse, I believe the plan can be carried through
without any trouble.”
“I’ll arrange it.”
“Then there’s another thing for you to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Send a man to the central telephone office and learn where the call for
Nicholas, Central Hotel, came from.
“Let the man go to the place from which I was rung up, and, if possible,
get a description of the fellow who sent in the call.”
“I’ll do it. It’s a great game you are playing, Mr. Carter.”
“I’m playing for big stakes. But don’t call me Carter; Nicholas will do
for the present.”
“I’ll remember. What are you going to do in the meantime?”
“Lie here in bed until I hear what sort of a report your man makes about
the fellow who called me up.”
“Will you stay here alone?”
“You can send one of the bell boys to be with me until your man comes.”
“All right.” The chief got up to go. “I’m surprised to learn that those
bank robbers are still in town.”
“I’m not. This town is probably as safe for them as any other part of
the country. Hurry that fly cop over here, chief. I have warm work ahead
of me, and don’t want to be out of the running any longer than
necessary.”
“Trust me to hustle things,” replied the chief, and took his departure.