Nick ignored her again, but not the man, for an instant. Addressing him, he inquired:
“Is there anything more you can tell me?”
“You bet there is,” Conroy quickly replied. “I think I can put you on the road to recover the child.”
“How so?”
“Because I know that Duffy and his wife agreed to join Kennedy in a certain house to-night, and that’s where the woman has gone with her sorrel-haired youngster.”
“Where is the house?[Pg 30]”
“Out Westchester way,” said Conroy; then, more earnestly: “I know just where it is located. Duffy’s car is in the garage here and I can run it. If you want to go out there to nail this bunch and get the stolen child, I’ll take you out there and help you round them up. I’ll do this just to prove to you, Carter, that Kate had no hand in it.”
“Good for you!” Kate Crandall exclaimed. “That ought to be fair enough for any meddlesome detective.”
“As foul, instead, as the jade herself,” was the thought that passed through Nick Carter’s mind.
That he rightly interpreted this offer; that he knew Conroy designed only to lure him to the house mentioned, in order to place him at a greater disadvantage, if not even to kill him outright, if it could be more safely done—that Nick Carter knew all this and much more appeared in what speedily followed.