"Ah, I didn't know that you had met the major. What will he do with Case?"
"I do not know."
"Well, it will be several days before he gets possession. When do you want to leave me?"
The reply was: "I should like to be released tonight, as Mr. Case is going to show me how to do the work."
"Very well," replied Mr. McLain, "come to me tomorrow morning and I will settle with you."
* * * * *
"Nick Hanson, Genesee House, Buffalo, N.Y., U.S.A: Come quick. Your man is here. Risis—Montreal."
Hanson received this telegram at seven o'clock in the morning, while eating his breakfast in the old Genesee House, Buffalo. In thirty minutes he was on the Niagara Express. That night about ten o'clock two men walked into the public room of the Majestic. Just outside the office door, in a lounging chair, sat the prospective landlord, as everybody called him. One of the newcomers was Ben Loring, a well-known detective of the Montreal department; the other our old friend Nick Hanson.
"Hello, Blair!" exclaimed Nick, in his usual jovial tones, as if greeting an old friend, as he confidently held out his hand.
At that instant, instead of receiving a handshake, he received a tremendous blow on the neck, just the place which pugilists aim for. Nick staggered and almost fell. This blow was not struck by the major, but by his new clerk, who had not been observed by either of the newcomers.