It was early evening when Nick Carter arrived home after his interview with Kate Crandall. He found Chick awaiting him. On the office table lay a small plaster cast, not there when Nick departed with Harriet Farley that morning, concerning whose mission and what since had occurred, Chick was, of course, entirely ignorant.
“Well, by Jove, you’ve had a long outing,” he remarked, when Nick entered and removed his coat and hat. “Have you been equally busy?”
“You know me,” replied Nick pointedly.
“None better. What’s doing?”
“A case for the young lady who prevented me from going with Mallory this morning.”
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Harriet Farley. She is the only child of the late Archibald Farley. She is worth four or five millions—and then some.”
“That ought to keep the wolf from the door, at least,” said Chick, smiling. “What’s the case?”
Nick briefly informed him, covering all of the essential points and immediately adding:
“Have you heard from Patsy?”