“And I kept it till the end for a good reason.”
“The reason?” demanded Nick.
“Oh, simply that the man himself is in no great hurry, and, besides, he’s a good deal better off in Nick Carter’s study than anywhere else I can think of. You will say the same when you hear his story.”
“Well, you need not go into the details since you have the man at home, but what are the outstanding facts in the matter?”
“They’re not hard to tell. This man, his name is John Lansing, was on board a Fall River boat bound from New York to Boston, when he was attacked by Ramsay—or Yasmar as he calls himself now—and was flung over the side. He escaped with his life and came to New York to give you the story.
“I told him you were expected back in town by this train, and he said he’d wait till I came back with you. He’s had a pretty close shave and he was just a bit hysterical, but I quieted him down and I guess you will find him quite rational when you reach home.”
* * * * * * *
Half an hour later Nick was closeted with the man who had narrowly escaped death in the waters of the Sound.
Mr. John Lansing he found to be a young man hardly more than out of his teens.
His face was pale and on his left temple there was a large patch of court-plaster.