“Who are you?”
“Nick Carter, at your service.”
“Well, well!” exclaimed the sheriff, extending his hand, “you would deceive your own mother in that rig.”
“All in the way of business,” said Nick, with a smile.
“I begin to recognize you now, although it has been a long time since I have had the pleasure of putting eyes on you.”
“I’ve been rather busy, and the fact of the matter is that I am rather crowded for time now. You have men at the track, I suppose?”
“Certainly. The police are supposed to keep order there, but we always have men on hand to look out for pickpockets and notorious criminals who are wanted here and in other places.”
“Shall you have men at the stables to-night?”
“There are half a dozen there, I believe, who have been engaged to look after the safety of the horses.”
“Will you be kind enough to give me a note to one of them?”