Nick Carter heard him without a change of countenance, but with no faith in the alibi so quickly volunteered. He remembered the location of the physician’s room, the strict privacy that was possible, and his grounds for having suspected Shannon of duplicity. He felt sure that they already had framed up a story to show, if it became necessary, that they were not on the scene of the robbery the previous evening.
“You can, I think, give me some very desirable information,” Carter replied, with steadfast scrutiny. “Speaking of doing some writing, Doctor Devoll, have a look at this anonymous letter. Read it, please, and tell me what you think of it.”
Doctor Devoll took it, smiling, and glanced at the address.
“Dear me!” he exclaimed, looking up quickly. “It is addressed to Nick Carter.”
“I am Nick Carter.”
“The famous detective?”
“I am a detective.”
“Well, well, this is most surprising.” Devoll appeared greatly astonished. “I thought your name was Blaisdell. Why are you using a fictitious name? What could——”
“I will presently explain,” Nick interrupted. “Kindly read the letter.”
Doctor Devoll complied. Nothing denoted that he was reading his own threatening letter. His crafty face took on, instead, a look of mingled wonderment and indignation.