“Marcos has been taken away from Crownledge, I am convinced. He will be held somewhere until too late to get to Joyalita by the eighteenth. If you could suggest some way of finding out where Marcos is——”
“The enemy has taken away the servants, too,” mused Nick, half aloud. “They did their work thoroughly, while they were about it.”
“That is what will make it so hard to trace Marcos,” she murmured, shaking her head. “We can’t even get into the house.”
“But that is just what we will do,” corrected Nick. “And as for our tracing Prince Marcos; well, I have an assistant who will be a great help, unless I am much mistaken.”
He touched a bell, and Chick came in from the other room, glad of an opportunity to gaze again upon the lovely Claudia Solado.
“Where’s Captain?” asked Nick.
“Downstairs,” was Chick’s answer, as his glance wandered to the fair face of the visitor.
“All right! We’ll use him this afternoon,” announced the detective.
“May I go with you with this gentleman—Captain—Captain—what is his name?” asked the girl. “Is he a soldier?”
Nick Carter and Chick both laughed. The former answered, with considerable emphasis: