A Broken Bond; Or, The Man Without Morals

by Nicholas Carter

Over the rounded shoulders the detective caught sight of a familiar face involuntarily twisted in pain. It was that of Chick Carter.

For the fraction of a second Nick found himself surprised that it was not Patsy. It would have been quite like the latter, especially after his unauthorized activities of the last few nights, to have come there to see for himself how things were going; but Chick’s appearance was unlooked for.

Nick had heard and seen enough, however, and even had the interruption been far more unwelcome, he would not have remained idle. With a swift bound he was on his feet, and then, darting across the room, he hurled himself headlong at Follansbee.

He was just in time.

Patsy Garvan had talked over his affairs with Chick, and the latter had decided to accompany him to Miss Worth’s hospital at the expiration of twenty-four hours. They had entered the grounds at the rear, and had made their way without detection to a point beneath the window which Patsy knew belonged to Ward E.

A stout vine climbed the wall beside the window, and Patsy had wanted to make use of it in order to gain a view of the room, but Nick’s first assistant had used his authority as Patsy’s senior, and made the ascent instead. The ward was on the second floor, but the ground fell away from the building on that side, and was about ten feet below the level of the main floor; consequently there was a nasty drop from the second floor to the concrete walk beneath.

The climb had been an easy matter for Chick, and no more risky than the stunts he did every day. When he had reached the level of the window sill, however, he had found the footing rather precarious. The main stem of the vine was three feet or more to the left of the window. He was obliged to hold this with his left hand and lean far out, with one foot extended along a branch of the vine. In this way he was able to get his right hand on the window sill and to pull the vine over far enough so that he could look into the window. But his efforts had loosened the vine, and when he felt it giving way, he made a sudden thoughtless move, which brought one of the buttons of his coat sleeve in sharp contact with the pane.

That was the sound Nick and Follansbee had heard.

The doctor’s lightninglike attack had taken Chick by surprise, and the detective, who was clawing for a fresh hold had been unable to resist. He had let go of the vine the moment the window was opened, and had clutched the inner edge of the sill with both hands; but while he was doing so, Follansbee had secured a strangle hold, and begun to push his head backward, with the obvious intention of making him let go of the sill.

The rascally physician would have been no match for Chick under ordinary circumstances, but that situation was a different matter. The young detective was absolutely defenseless.