Ten o’clock the following morning found three persons seated in Harold Garland’s apartments in the Grayling—Nick Carter and his two assistants, Chick Carter and Patsy Garvan.
The murder of Father Cleary then was on every tongue. Newspapers throughout the country were describing the shocking crime under glaring headlines. It had leaked out, too, though Nick had not revealed it, that Lottie Trent had been abducted by the assassins and was in some way concerned in the crime.
The thousand tongues of rumor were never more busy. Conjectures of every description were in the air. Linked with the name of the missing girl, in circles where he was well known and his recent changed appearance had been noticed, was that of Harold Garland, and many already were whispering suspicions that he knew more than he was willing to tell.
These insinuations were given additional impulse by the fact that several newspapers were describing a man who had been noticed near the scene of the double crime, and whose actions, as reported by several observers, were of a kind to warrant suspicion. His identity had not yet been discovered by the newspapers, however, and thus matters stood at ten o’clock that morning on the second day following the murder.
“By Jove, it’s a bad mess, an awfully bad mess,” Chick Carter gravely remarked, after Nick had described the case in detail to both of his assistants.
Both had arrived in disguise at the Grayling that morning, in accord with instructions Nick had telephoned, and they had been given apartments on the same floor with those of Garland.
“Bad enough, Chick, but not nearly as bad as it might be,” Nick replied. “I have stated only the superficial facts, not what I have detected under the surface.”
“The case has redeeming features, then?”
“Decidedly.”
“How so?”