"Now go to bed and sleep if you can," he added, preparing to leave. "I will call shortly after breakfast and report progress."
With a friendly nod of his head he departed on his quest for detectives. Nattie remained seated for a brief period, then he walked over to a bell-pull, and summoned a servant. At his command the man brought him a heavy cloak, and assisted him to don his shoes.
From a chest of drawers in an adjacent room the lad took a revolver. After carefully examining the charges he thrust it into his pocket and left the house.
The night was hot and sultry. Not a breath of wind stirred, and the mellow rays of a full moon beamed down on ground and foliage, which seemed to glow with the tropical heat. Notwithstanding the discomfort Nattie drew his cloak about him and set out at a rapid walk down the street leading past the Manning residence.
From out on the bay came the distant rattle of a steamer's winch. The stillness was so oppressive that even the shrill notes of a boatswain's whistle came to his ears. An owl hooted in a nearby maple; the melancholy howl of a strolling dog sounded from below where the native town was stretched out in irregular rows of bamboo houses.
The lad kept to the shady side of the road, and continued without stopping until he reached a mansion built in the English style, some ten or eleven blocks from his house. The building stood in the center of extensive grounds, and was separated from the street by an ornamental iron fence and a well-cultivated hedge.
It was evidently the home of a man of wealth. In fact, it was the domicile of Mr. Black and his son Ralph. What was Nattie's object in leaving the Manning residence in face of Mori's warning? What was his object in paying a visit to his enemy at such an hour of the night?
Anxious, almost beside himself with worry, suffering severely from his dislocated shoulder, and perhaps slightly under the influence of a fever, the lad had yielded to his first impulse when alone, and set out from home with no settled purpose.
On reaching the open air he thought of Jesse Black. The mansion was only a short distance away; perhaps something could be learned by watching it. The conjecture was father to the deed.
Selecting a spot shaded by a thick-foliaged tree, Nattie carefully scanned the façade of the building. It was of two stories, and prominent bow-windows jutted out from each floor. The lower part was dark, but a dim light shone through the curtains of the last window on the right.