All transpired, in fact, in far less time than half a minute.
The covers of two of the packing cases flew upward.
Out of each case leaped a man.
A bludgeon in the hand of one fell squarely on Nick’s head.
The fist of the other caught him on the jaw.
A blow from the supposed Cady landed over his heart.
And under this combined assault, made with all the vicious energy of utter desperation, Nick Carter sank to the floor of the reeling car, bleeding and insensible, with every muscle relaxed.
CHAPTER V.
NIGHT WORK.
Chick Carter, in accord with the plans laid out by Nick, was in Amherst that evening in the disguise of a traveling salesman. He was waiting on the station platform when the Southern Limited arrived.
Chick sized up the train as it rolled into the station. He did not definitely know, of course, whether the crook who had sent the telegram from Philadelphia was among the passengers, but he strongly suspected that he was, and he also knew that Nick would board the express car at North Dayton.