“By thunder, this was not Chick’s work!” cried Carter, with features turning flinty. “We have been balked again, balked by this gang of infernal——What do you say, Patsy? He’s not dead, surely! I can see that plainly.”
Patsy then was crouching on the floor beside the prostrate detective.
CHAPTER XVIII.
NICK DECLARES HIMSELF.
Nick Carter was right as to Chick’s condition. He had seen at a glance that he was not dead. He quickly noticed, too, the sleeve drawn up above his right wrist, exposing part of the arm, and he immediately joined Patsy and pointed to a tiny puncture in the white skin.
“He has been drugged,” said he, with an indignant ring in his subdued voice. “That’s the prick of a hypodermic needle.”
“Surely,” muttered Patsy. “But how did they contrive to get him and the——”
“Don’t ask me how. It’s useless to speculate,” Carter interrupted. “They shall pay dear for it, nevertheless, take my word for that. Is there a physician in the house, Mr. Vernon?” he added, turning to the astonished manager.
“Yes, there is,” was the hasty reply. “Doctor Percy. His suite is on this floor.”
“Bring him as quickly as possible,” the detective directed. “Tell him that stimulants will be needed to counteract a drug, but don’t create a stir or cause any excitement. There is no occasion to arouse the house. He soon can revive this man.”