THE CUBAN GIRL.
When Nick had attended to Chick’s
messages he sent a long letter to Ida, in
which he instructed her to find out the
private address of James Rogers; to go
there; try to ascertain whether or not
Aimee Rogers really loved Dr. Lord, and
to telegraph to him the moment she got
the required information.
Darkness was now setting in, and Nick
Carter strolled along Washington street.
As he went by the passage that leads to
Parke’s restaurant, he decided to take his
dinner there, and accordingly, five minutes
later, he was seated at a corner table,
waiting for his order.
At a large table, close to him, four
fashionably dressed young men were dining.
The dishes had all been removed,
and they were now enjoying their cigars
over some black coffee and brandy.
Nick Carter soon disposed of the plain
course which he had ordered, and was
about to leave the restaurant when he
heard one of the young fellows say:
"Sad about Sam Rogers’ governor,
wasn’t it?"
"Waiter! Bring me a cup of coffee!"
said Nick.
He then took a newspaper from his
pocket and pretended to read it.
While listening attentively to the conversation
of the four young fellows, he
heard one of them say:
"I dare say old Rogers’ death will postpone
Sam’s marriage with Miss Bland."
"I shouldn’t be surprised," said another.
"Lucky dog," said the first speaker.
"They say that Lucy Bland is worth fully
half a million."
"At least," rejoined his friend. "But
look here, Porter, when did you see Sam’s
other girl, the olive-tinted loved one?
That girl will give him some trouble, if
he is not more careful."
"See her? My dear fellow, I saw her
last night."
"Where?"
"At the Providence depot, just as the
snow stopped falling."
Nick Carter took a deep drink of his
coffee and listened very intently now.
"What was she doing?" asked one of
the speakers. "Going to New York?"
"Precisely. I bowed to her and asked if
I could be of any service. She simply
asked me the best hotel to stop at in
Providence. I told her, and said, ‘You
are surely not going to stop at that awful
hole.’"
"You have cheek," interrupted one of
the diners.
"Oh, you be blowed!" said the gentleman
named Porter. "The girl laughed at
the idea of remaining in Providence. She
said that she merely intended stopping
there for the night, and that she was going
to New York by the nine o’clock boat
to-day."
"If Rogers hears that you are interesting
yourself in that girl, Porter, it will be
pistols and coffee for two. By the way,
what’s the divinity’s name?"
"Alvarez. I think she is a Cuban, or
South American, or something of that
kind."
Nick didn’t wait to hear any more.
He hurriedly paid his bill and left the
restaurant.
It was now five o’clock.
"I have just time to notify Chick," he
said.
In two minutes he was at the telegraph
office, in the Parker House, writing the
following dispatch to his faithful assistant:
"Meet boat left Providence nine o’clock
this morning. Observe handsome Cuban
lady named Alvarez. Keep her within
distance until you hear from me.
"Nick."
He then returned to his hotel and wrote
a letter to Chick, directing him to shadow
his woman, find out all about her, and, if
possible, discover what her business was.
Half an hour later he rang the bell at
the Rogers mansion.
The door was opened by young Rogers
in person, who led the way to the parlor.
"Is Dr. Lord here?" asked Nick, before
the young man could say a word.
"Yes. He is with my uncle, who has
also arrived."
"Well, he mustn’t see me. He might
recognize me if we keep talking here."
"Recognize you?" said Rogers, when
he had conducted Nick to his own bed
chamber. "What do you mean, Mr. Carter?
Does he know you?"
"I don’t think so; but, you know, doctors
and detectives often meet under peculiar
circumstances."
Rogers gave him a puzzled look.
He clearly did not understand Nick
Carter’s ways.
And Nick clearly determined that he
should not.
As they proceeded to another room,
Nick asked:
"When did you see the woman Alvarez
last?"
"Mr. Carter!" cried Rogers, turning
deathly pale, "where on earth did you
learn anything about her?"
"I have many channels from which to
gather my information," said Nick, coolly.
"But you have not answered my question.
When did you see her last?"
"The evening before my father died."
"Was she in the house after Dr. Lord
went away?"
"In the name of goodness, what have
you learned?" asked Rogers, in apparent
terror.
"A good deal about your relations with
her, my dear young sir," said Nick, who
was narrowly watching the perturbation
of his companion.
The young fellow’s eyes twitched nervously;
he was trembling, Nick saw
plainly.
He altered his tactics, and said:
"Look here, Mr. Rogers, you told me
this morning that you would conceal
nothing from me. Do you think you are
treating me fairly?"
"Well," said the young fellow, who
was crushed from amazement more than
anything else, "I shall make a clean
breast of it."