“Now, Mr. Carter,” went on Billings, addressing the detective, “I know you are square, and so are them two with you. But we’ve come here to get back the money what’s been stole from widders an’ orphans an’ workin’ men who have had to work hard for everything they have. The money was stole on the pretense that there was a fine tract of land on this estate what was to be sold on easy terms for homes.”
“I know that’s true,” remarked Nick quietly.
“What do you suppose he’s getting at?” muttered Lampton to Powers on the upper landing.
“Listen, and we’ll find out. Then we’ll know what to do.”
Louden Powers spoke calmly. He was much the bolder rascal of the two. His iron nerve it was that had brought the plot to its present point. He did not despair yet of putting it through to entire success.
“We’ve looked into this thing, and we find the land is nothing but swamp, and it wouldn’t be possible to build houses on it—at least, not till thousands of dollars had been spent on draining it and filling it in. There ain’t no sign as these ducks what have our money mean to do any such thing.”
“Well?”
“Then we’re going to see this Howard Milmarsh and make him give back our money first of all. After that we’ll sue him for damages. There’s good lawyers in New York what will take our cases and not ask no fee unless they win for us. An’ we’d be sure to win, so we’re goin’ up here to find this Howard Milmarsh—if you’ll step out of our way, Mr. Carter.”
“That’s the talk!” called out somebody in the heart of the crowd. “Take us to Howard Milmarsh!”