“What about Chick?”
“Let’s have breakfast,” was all Nick Carter replied.
“Gee!” muttered Patsy. “I don’t know whether I can eat anything. This thing has put a kink in my appetite that——”
Just then Mrs. Peters, the housekeeper, entered with a dish of ham and eggs, which she placed before Nick Carter. As she lifted the silver dish cover, she asked quietly:
“Didn’t you know Mr. Chick was out, Mr. Carter?”
“No. Do you know what time he went out?”
“I heard the front door close about two o’clock, I think it was,” she answered. “I wondered who it was. But there is nothing unusual in you or somebody to go out at any hour of the night.”
“Sure as you live,” interjected Patsy.
“But I knew you intended all to stay home last night, and that was why I couldn’t make it out. So I thought I’d serve the ham and eggs myself, and ask you.”
Mrs. Peters, the worthy housekeeper, had been with Nick Carter for many years, and took a motherly interest in him which excused her curiosity. The detective smiled kindly, as he replied: