Mantell listened without interrupting, but with steadily increasing apprehensions, as appeared in the look of despair that finally settled on his drawn, white face.
“There is nothing to it, Carter,” he said, with a groan, when Nick had concluded. “They have got both the man and the jewels. They have killed Padillo, and the jewels are gone forever.”
“Don’t be so sure of that,” said Nick. “I may find a way to save the man and recover the gems. That’s what I am seeking—the way.”
“You mean——”
“I mean that I want to discover, if possible, the identity of Taggart’s confederate,” Nick interrupted. “I then can shape up my work. That is why I came here to see Vandyke’s letter. I suspect that a copy of it was made. I suspected, also, if it was obtained by breaking into the house and forcing your desk, that it might bear finger prints of the crooks. Patsy will report a little later.”
“But why wouldn’t a crook have taken the letter itself?” questioned Mantell. “Why would he have made a copy of it?”
“Because you would have missed the letter, and, of course, would have become suspicious,” Nick pointed out. “You would immediately have taken steps to thwart the knavery that has been successfully accomplished through leaving the letter in its customary place.”
“Yes, yes, I see,” Mantell nodded. “I ought to have thought of that. You suspect then, that——”
“Wait! There comes my touring car with Chick and Danny, my chauffeur,” Nick interrupted, glancing from the window. “I must see what more he has learned.”
“I will admit him,” cried Mantell, hastening to do so.