Presently Nick and his companion approached that particular group of which the man who called himself Ledger Dinwiddie, and whom Nan believed to be Jimmy Duryea, formed one part.
Nan purposely left the introduction to him, for the last of that particular group; and then she said:
“Mr. Dinwiddie, this is an old friend of mine—Mr. Carter;” and Duryea turned about lazily, as if he had not noticed the arrival of a stranger till that moment.
“Glad to know you, Mr. Carter,” he said imperturbably, and with just the faintest trace of a smile on his handsome features; and then he turned back again to the companion with whom he had been talking, and who happened to be the daughter of the house, Miss Lenore Remsen, who was not more than two years younger than her beautiful stepmother.
There was not the slightest trace of recognition in the eyes of Jimmy Duryea when he acknowledged that introduction, although he must have known Nick Carter at once—and he could not have prepared for the sudden appearance of the detective there, unless he had guessed that Nan might communicate with the detective while she was in the city.
Nick was equally reticent. It was no part of his present purpose to force matters; at least he did not intend to do so until the proper moment should arrive; but he did desire to get the gentleman cracksman into conversation, to see how far the assurance of the man would carry him.
Presently he found an opportunity.
It was when Duryea turned to make some general remark to those near him, and Nick chose to reply directly to it.
“I quite agree with you, Mr. Dinwiddie,” he said. “Stolen jewels are difficult things to trace. That is the subject you were discussing, I believe?”
“Yes,” said Nan, before Duryea could reply. “A most remarkable thing happened here, during the night of last Thursday. A necklace, and other jewels, disappeared most mysteriously from the rooms of the owners. But—shhh—we have all agreed to keep very still about it, for the present.”