“Murdered?”
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean by not exactly?”
“Violence, but not murder,” said Chick. “The cause of his death was obvious. It resulted from a bullet wound in his left shoulder. It had not been properly treated. Blood poison had ensued and sent him over the dark river.”
“H’m, that’s strange!” Nick remarked. “There must be something back of it. Could you identify him?”
“Easily.”
“Who?”
“The very man, Nick, of whom we were talking with Mallory when Vallon arrived with that letter—Jim Nordeck, the yegg cracksman, the crook suspected of having been one of the gang that robbed that Westchester savings bank.”
“The devil you say!”
“There was nothing to it,” Chick added. “There was no mistaking him.”