“What time does he leave Bentham’s usually?” asked Nick.
“About half past eight. He gets there at nine in the morning, ready to begin work after breakfast.”
“Where does he live?”
“He has a room in a street off Fulton, down near Borough Hall, Maggie says. That’s all she knows about it. Of course, I had to get all this out of her by degrees, and under the seal of confidence. I tried to make a good impression on Maggie,” continued Chick, with a grin, “and I flatter myself she thinks I’m all right. I told her I was your clerk, and that I sometimes acted as a chauffeur.”
“Good!” commended Nick. “Half past eight, you say, Swagara leaves Mr. Bentham’s house at night?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to bring Swagara to our house when he leaves Bentham’s to-night, Chick. Have him in my library by nine, if you can.”
Chick did not express any astonishment at this order. Neither did he seem to have any doubt that he could fill it. He had been told to do strange and difficult things so many times that there was nothing could surprise him now.
“All right, chief,” was all he said. “I’ll work it through Maggie.”
Nick Carter did not reply. He did not care how his instructions were carried out, so long as he was obeyed.