“Are you in with this gang?” Nick sternly questioned.
“You bet I’m in with it. I’m out to get this coin—and to get you, now, since you know so much about——”
The car lurched suddenly on a curve.
The revolver covering the detective’s breast deviated for a moment, as Cady swayed under the sudden lurch.
It was the moment for which Nick Carter was watching. He was as quick as a flash in seeing and seizing the opportunity. His left hand shot downward and grasped the miscreant’s wrist, turning the revolver aside, while his right shot out and closed with a viselike grip around Cady’s neck.
“In with this gang, are you?” he shouted. “You shall pay the price, then.”
But again the unexpected occurred. Another lurch of the car threw both men, then engaged in the terrible struggle, against the wall of the car.
Cady’s beard was torn off and the truth revealed—the man was not Cady.
It was not a substitute package to which the telegram had referred, but—a substitute man!
Something like a half-smothered oath broke from the detective. He swung the struggling ruffian around and forced him against the wall of the swaying car. He could have overcome him and crushed him within half a minute—if help had not been at hand.