In “The Traitors of the Tropics; or, Nick Carter’s Royal Flush,” which will appear in the next issue, No. 138, of the Nick Carter Stories, you will find that the famous detective and his assistants have still further and even more interesting adventures before Prince Marcos defeats the conspirators and regains control of Joyalita. The forthcoming issue will be out on May 1st.
Dared for Los Angeles.
By ROLAND ASHFORD PHILLIPS.
(This interesting story was commenced in No. 134 of Nick Carter Stories. Back numbers can always be obtained from your news dealer or the publishers.)
CHAPTER XVI.
THE OLD WOUND.
Nash’s hesitation was but of a second’s duration. With an exclamation of wrath and disappointment he thrust his gun back to his pocket, and leaped forward. He reached the pipe line, vaulted it, and plunged fearlessly in the general direction taken by the stranger. Once he heard the sound of falling rocks. Encouraged, he doubled his speed, only to trip upon an unseen root and sprawl heavily. The very forces of nature seemed pitted against him, for no sooner had he regained his feet than the half twilight died away, and the mountain slope became wrapped in a confusing blanket of gloom.
In another hour—perhaps before then—the moon would creep over the distant coast range, and bathe the quiet world in silver; until then all hope of pursuit was futile. He stumbled on, groping his way back to the pipe line. Once there, he listened hopefully for some sign, some slight noise that might guide him, but his anxious ears were unrewarded.
When at last he returned to the high trail he found only his pony awaiting him. Miss Breen had vanished as suddenly and as mysteriously as had the man she warned.
It was quite useless, he knew, to remain where he was. The chances of following the stranger were becoming more and more hopeless. So he climbed into the saddle, and allowed his pony to pick its way slowly and carefully along the trail.
What a puzzle this was, to be sure, he reasoned to himself. Undoubtedly the man he had seen, who, thanks to the girl’s warning, had escaped, was none other than the person instrumental in the previous night’s adventure. The fact that he was carrying a sledge hammer gave added proof to this suspicion, to say nothing of his fright at Nash’s abrupt interruption. And yet, what had led Miss Breen to cry out just at the moment when his capture seemed certain? What connection had she with this slinking intruder?