"Can you tell me where Dr. Lord lives?" he inquired from the clerk.
"Certainly, sir. Straight up the road opposite. I forget the number; but you cannot make a mistake, for you will see a brass plate, with his name, on the garden gate."
"Thank you," said Nick. "But perhaps that is not the Dr. Lord I want."
"It must be," said the clerk, laughing, "for he is the only Lord in Dorchester."
A few minutes afterward Nick Carter was ushered into the reception-room of Mr. Rogers’ physician.
Apparently the reception-room was also used as a kind of auxiliary surgery; for, upon a table, were a number of surgical instruments of various kinds.
Nick noticed this with satisfaction, and[Pg 12] he moved over toward the table in order to more closely inspect the contents.
Just then the servant entered the room and announced that the doctor would be disengaged in a few minutes.
"You’re in luck, Nick!" muttered the detective, as he forthwith proceeded to inspect the surgical instruments. There were forceps, and lancets, and clinical thermometers by the dozen; but what attracted Nick’s eye were four hypodermic syringe cases.
He opened them one after another, and when he got to the last—which was smaller than the others—he held it in his hand only for a moment; then opening the case, he found a small syringe from which the pointer needle had been broken off at the base.