“I do, indeed.”
“But tell me frankly, Nick,” entreated the banker. “Have you any definite clew, any suspicions that really warrant the encouragement you give me? I wish to know the worst.”
Nick was averse to deceiving him. He realized only too keenly that he had, as yet, no definite clew to the identity of the crooks, and that he then was banking almost entirely upon the arrangements he had just made with David Mack, and upon what they would bring forth. He shook his head and rejoined, a bit gravely:
“Frankly, Mr. Madden, I can only reply in the negative.”
“I feared so.”
“I feel confident, nevertheless, that I soon shall pick up a thread worth following,” Nick quickly added. “I never can tell when that may happen. It may come when least expected. I will immediately inform you in that case and relieve your anxiety.”
“Do so, Nick, by all means.”
“I suppose in case you are absent that your stenographer will forward any message I might send.”
Nick glanced at the covered typewriter mentioned, but with no idea that his prediction of a moment before was about to be verified.
“Some one would surely forward a message,” Mr. Madden replied. “Our stenographer left us a few days ago, however, and her position has not yet been filled.”