He was looking about him wildly when Nick decided that his complete recovery would be accelerated if he were carried into the house.
“Give me a lift, Chick!”
The two raised the man from the floor, and laid him over one of the brawny shoulders of Nick Carter.
The valet was heavy and large, but the detective carried him along without apparent effort into the house, up the stairs, and into one of the bedrooms.
“If you can find something warm for him to eat, Miss Solado,” remarked Nick, as they put the man on the bed, “it will help as much as anything. We will put him to bed in the meantime.”
Claudia was only too glad to do anything she could. She went to the kitchen and foraged for supplies. She was fortunate enough to find a can of soup. This she cooked on a gas stove, and soon had it ready for the invalid.
When she came to the bedroom again she found him sitting up in bed and talking. As he attacked the hot soup, his strength came back faster, and he told his story in a fairly connected way.
It all resolved itself into this: On the morning before, he went to call his employer, as usual, and, as he passed the windows of the house, he noticed a handsome private steam yacht anchored in the river, not far from shore, so that it should be out of the regular channel of traffic.
In Prince Marcos’ room he heard a scuffling, while his employer’s voice was raised in anger and protest.
When the valet got there—which he did as fast as he could—he found Marcos struggling with two men.