A GREAT STROKE OF LUCK.
Hard thinking and tireless following of trails could usually be counted
on to explain the successes earned by Nick Carter and his assistants,
but sometimes plain, “bull-headed luck,” as Patsy Garvan would probably
have called it, proved to be the determining factor.
That was the case in this instance.
Nick’s other assistant, Jack Wise, the well-to-do young society man, had
had nothing to do with the Grantley case at all. He had been doing a
little “pussyfooting” in the Harlem section, in connection with a
totally different investigation, and was about to enter the subway kiosk
at Lenox Avenue and One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street when he saw
Doctor Grantley and Doctor Siebold alight from a taxi.
He knew them both by sight. They, however, were probably unaware of his
existence, and even if they had known of him, they would have been
unable to recognize him, owing to the fact that he was disguised.
Jack was thoroughly familiar with the circumstances connected with the
millionaire’s headstrong acceptance of Grantley’s offer to operate,
since he had heard it discussed several times by his chief and his
fellow assistants.
As a result, his curiosity was aroused at once, and he managed to shift
his position in such a way that he caught a glimpse of the man who
remained in the cab. The black patches over the eyes convinced him that
it was Baldwin, and his familiarity with the financier’s features, as
reproduced in the newspapers and magazines, confirmed the impression.
“Here’s a queer go!” thought the young detective, as the taxi continued
southward without the two surgeons. “Looks as if they were sending Mr.
Baldwin home alone, and they act as if they had been stealing sheep. I
wonder what the dickens is in the wind now? Jack, old chap, maybe you’ve
stumbled on something that needs looking into. I think you’d better keep
in their wake for a while.”
Grantley and his assistant were some distance away before Wise arrived
at this decision, but he had no difficulty in keeping in sight of them,
despite the fact that they were proceeding eastward at a brisk pace.
They had probably hoped to give the impression that they were bound for
the One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street station, but they were a
considerable distance from that when they hailed a disengaged taxi.
They jumped into the cab as soon as it came to a stop, and were soon
speeding back toward Lenox Avenue again. Jack gave an exclamation of
disgust before he espied a garage a few doors beyond, and on the other
side of the street. He sprinted across, narrowly escaped a couple of
trolley cars, and, as luck would have it, found a taxi standing outside
the establishment.
It had just arrived, and the driver was in the act of alighting.
“No, you don’t!” shouted Jack, wrenching one of the doors open and
leaping in. “Two dollars extra if you keep that gray taxi in sight!”
The chauffeur looked in the direction that Wise pointed, saw the machine
indicated, and nodded his head. In another moment he was back in his
seat, and the cab was in motion.
The sixth sense, that plays so large a part in successful detection, had
told Jack Wise that something was wrong. Grantley and Siebold gave every
indication that they were doubling and twisting for the purpose of
throwing off subsequent pursuers.
Their taxi took the shortest route to the Pennsylvania Station, where
they alighted and dismissed the cab. Jack’s machine drew up a few
moments later, and its occupant slipped the fare and the promised tip
into the driver’s hand and told him not to wait.
Wise had made some slight but effective changes in his appearance on the
way, and he had no fear of being recognized as one of those who had
witnessed the unceremonious parting with Baldwin. Moreover, every
advantage was his, for the fugitives could not possibly be prepared for
this accidental pursuit. All of their clever precautions were evidently
being taken with a view to confusing the detectives later on, when their
anticipated inquiries were being made.
Nick’s assistant trailed the two surgeons to a toilet room, where they
donned disguises. Their make-ups proved to be excellent and might well
have baffled Jack if he had not taken care to avoid mistakes by counting
those who went in and came out, eliminating every other possibility.
From the toilet room he followed the two to the check room, where they
claimed four new suit cases, which must have been taken down to the
station by some one else.
Jack was near enough to use his eyes, and he did so to advantage, with
the consequence that he saw the lettered names on the baggage.
Grantley’s cases were labeled “Henry S. Packard, Boston, Mass.,” and
Siebold’s, “Arnold J. Taliaferro, Phila., Pa.”
Their plans had been carefully made, and it was plain that they would
have given Nick and the others a great deal of trouble, to say the
least, had it not been for the chance presence of Jack Wise at that
particular corner, and just at the right time--an accident that set at
naught all the probabilities and rendered worthless the elaborate
subterfuges of Grantley and his satellite.
They had not emptied their bag of tricks, however.
To Jack’s surprise, instead of heading for a train, they emerged from
the building and entered a taxi.
It was clear that they were bent upon putting another kink in their
trail.
Across the street was a cab stand, and Jack hurried toward it and
entered the nearest machine. Again he offered a generous tip, provided
the taxi he pointed out could be kept in view.
They lost little time in getting started, and Grantley’s cab remained in
plain sight, headed still farther downtown. At Fourteenth Street the
chase turned westward, and it was soon clear that Grantley’s goal was
the water front along the Hudson River.
Before the river front was reached, Jack thought it best to exchange
vehicles. He consulted the meter, learned the amount of his fare, added
the driver’s tip to it, and then looked through the little pane of glass
at the rear. When a crosstown Fourteenth Street car was seen at about
the right distance behind him, he ordered the chauffeur to stop. He
thrust the money into the man’s hand as he alighted, waited a few
moments, and then swung lightly on board the car as it passed him.
He was sure that his maneuver had not been witnessed by his quarry, on
account of the amount of traffic which intervened.
After entering the trolley, he kept his eye on the taxi ahead, which had
slowed down. When it turned southward through the maze of streets close
to the water, Wise jumped off and followed on foot.
There was still a possibility that the fugitives might give him the
slip, but he did not believe it likely. As for their recognizing him, he
had made that difficult, if not out of the question, by another clever
change of appearance, made during the run of the second cab.
Heavy drays and lighter delivery wagons abounded in this section, and
the streets were narrow. As a result, the taxi which Jack was following
was making slow progress, and its athletic pursuer found it easy to keep
within less than a block of it.
He was thus in a position to see that it stopped in front of the
entrance to a small dock, above which appeared the sign: “New York &
Buffalo Transport Co.”
“That’s certainly a new one on me!” thought Wise. “Not a very
well-patronized line, I take it. Is it possible they’re going to skip
on a canal boat--or try to? That’s the only way of getting from here to
Buffalo by water. Bright little chaps, those! Nobody else would have
thought of that in a hundred years--and when they got to Buffalo, a hop,
skip, and a jump across the Niagara River would have carried them into
Canada. After that a transatlantic steamer at Montreal or Quebec, I
suppose, and then--ta, ta! I saw them first, though, and if the chief
doesn’t decorate me with the Order of the Eagle Eye for this, he’s a
hungrateful master.”