“Corliston!” repeated the girl. “Yes, that was the firm we went to.”
“The usher who put me into this box judged me by my dress, I suppose,” smiled Nick. “He had been told to put a Mexican into thirty-six, and he did as he had been instructed. So we can’t blame the man.”
Nick Carter could see that the cheeks of the girl were gradually losing their pallor, as if she had been relieved of some great anxiety.
“Are you sure this coffee is drugged?” he asked.
“There is no doubt about that,” she answered quickly. “There are two men below who have mistaken you for the—for the other gentleman, and they are going to do him injury if they can.”
“Why?”
“That I can’t tell you. But the men are very dangerous. Moreover, if they find out that I have come here to warn you, they will kill me.”
“I hardly think that,” answered Nick Carter. “This is New York. It is not safe to kill people here. Still, some men will take chances. Especially foreigners, and the names you have mentioned have that sort of sound. Did you say Solado and Miguel were watching this box?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. If you will permit me to walk with you, we’ll make a tour of the ballroom and see what we can find out. I give you my word they shan’t kill you while I am with you,” he added, with one of those confident smiles which had given courage to so many persons with whom he had had dealings in the past.