"ANOTHER CUBAN."
"What I am about to disclose to you,
you will promise to keep as secret as the
grave?"
"I make no promise and must use my
own judgment," replied Nick.
"Well, then, the woman whom you
call Alvarez is my wife."
"Your wife?" said Nick, with real surprise.
"Unhappily, it is so."
"I thought you said you were engaged
to be married to Miss Bland?" interjected
Nick.
"Yes, sir. But I shall have to explain
everything to you. When I was in Florida
last winter I met her. She was very beautiful,
and threw herself in my way. I became
infatuated, and one night, while
slightly intoxicated, I consented to marry
her secretly. Her brother, who was present,
insisted upon the marriage taking
place at once. I discovered a few days
afterward that the brother was one of a
gang of desperate gamblers. Ever since
that night my life has been a misery."
"Have you lived with her?" asked
Nick.
"No; but she has continually blackmailed
me upon threat of making public
the marriage. Finally I confessed to my
father, who was urging me to marry Miss
Bland--to whom I have been engaged for
nearly three years. He sent for her, and
asked her to put in writing the terms
upon which she would consent to a
divorce."
"When did this happen, Mr. Rogers?"
"A few days ago."
"On the day before your father was
murdered?"
"No; on the day preceding that she
came to see him."
"Were you present at the interview?"
"Yes."
"Good! Now tell me exactly what occurred
at that meeting."
"She said that she would consent to a
divorce for fifty thousand dollars. Father
agreed to pay that sum in exchange for
the certificate of divorce, and to pay her
expenses to California and allow her a
certain amount to live there until the
divorce was granted."
"Well, what then?"
"He asked her to put it in writing. She
called the next evening, after Dr. Lord
had left, and said she would not do it for
less than one hundred thousand dollars.
"My father told her that this was impossible.
He read for her his will, and explained
that by conceding fifty thousand
dollars he was robbing my sister and
myself of a large part of our heritage."
"Did he read for her the clause connected
with your sister losing her portion
if she did not marry the doctor within six
months?"
"Yes, sir--every word of it."
"What then?" asked Nick.
"She produced a written document, of
which this is a copy."
Nick took the document and glanced it
over. Turning to Rogers, he said:
"Do you know, sir, that this bond holds
as good against your father’s estate, upon
the production of the certificate of divorce,
as if he had lived."
"Yes, I do."
"But you don’t seem to recognize that
she can continue her blackmailing scheme
all the same, without annulling this instrument.
It is a clever document, Mr.
Rogers--very clever. In fact, I do not
believe the woman ever drew up such an
instrument herself."
"Then what do you believe?"
"I cannot tell you just yet. But I want
you to answer me one more question:
Did you have any conversation with her
after your father signed that bond?"
"Yes."
"What was it about?"
"I promised her twenty-five thousand
dollars on my own account."
"Did she leave the house then?"
"Yes. I accompanied her to the railway
station."
Nick looked puzzled.
"Had your father retired to his room
before you left the house?" he asked.
"No. But he had gone before I returned."
"And you never saw him alive again?"
"No, sir."
"Who let you in when you got back
from the railway station?"
"Jones."
"Have you perfect confidence in that
colored man, Mr. Rogers?" asked Nick.
"Absolute. He has been with us for
over ten years."
"Did he accompany the family to Florida
last winter?"
"Yes."
Nick Carter became silent.
He seemed to be buried in deep thought.
At length he looked intently at Rogers
and said:
"Have you anything more to say, Mr.
Rogers?"
"Nothing that I can think of."
"Very well. I shall now bid you good-night.
I shall call upon you again to-morrow,
and remember, silence is a necessity."
"The funeral takes place to-morrow
morning at ten o’clock, Mr. Carter, but I
shall be home again about two."
"I shall call after that hour. Good-night,
Mr. Rogers."
When he had got a little away from the
house, Nick stopped and looked back.
"I wish the moon would come out," he
muttered. "I should like to explore the
road between here and the next railway
station."
At that instant his sharp ears detected
a soft footfall in the snow behind him.
He turned suddenly.
That movement undoubtedly saved his
life.
By the dim light that came from one of
the windows of the house, he saw, outlined
against the snow, the form of a man, who,
with uplifted hand, was about to plunge
a knife into his back.
In a second the would-be assassin found
his wrist held by an iron grasp, and with
a smothered cry of pain, the knife fell
from his hand.
At the same moment the hall door was
opened, and a flood of light rushed out
upon the scene, revealing the features of
Nick’s assailant. Dr. Lord was coming
out.
As Nick did not wish to see the doctor,
or rather, as he did not wish to be seen
by him, he flung the would-be assassin
from him, picked up the knife and stepped
into the shadow of the shrubbery. When
the doctor had passed out of the lawn,
Nick came from his hiding-place and went
toward the nearest railway station, saying,
as he walked:
"Another Cuban!"