“Yes, Captain is very much of a soldier, in the sense that he is always ready to fight—and to obey orders. He is our bloodhound, trained to police work, and, we think, one of the finest dogs in the world.”
“Oh! I should like to see him. I may go, may I not?”
“If you will,” returned Nick. “You will be a great help, and we will try to keep you from harm.”
“I’d like to see the man that will harm you when I’m around,” blurted out Chick, clenching both fists.
“Chick!” warned Nick Carter. “That will do. Miss Solado has perfect faith in you, I have no doubt. Meanwhile, do not frighten her by making her think we shall meet people who will put your chivalry to the test.”
Claudia gave Chick a smile that quite counterbalanced his chief’s gentle rebuke.
CHAPTER V.
THE MAN IN THE SUMMERHOUSE.
It was early in the afternoon when the well-appointed limousine motor car belonging to Nick Carter—seldom used, although always ready—skimmed along Riverside Drive, going uptown.
The driver was the detective’s trusted chauffeur, Danny Maloney, and there were four passengers: Nick Carter, his assistant, Chick, Miss Claudia Solado, and Captain, the big bloodhound.
Nick had chosen the limousine, in preference to the powerful touring car he generally used in expeditions of this kind, because the closed vehicle shut off any prying eyes that possibly might be trained upon them.