“I remember,” Chick nodded. “We decided that he had fled to Europe.”
“That then seemed to be his most likely course,” Nick replied. “It now is ten to one, however, that he decided to lie low right here, and where he since has fallen in with Cora Cavendish. He may have learned from her about the Madison letters, and with her framed up this rascally job.”
“By Jove, that now seems more than probable,” Chick said, with some enthusiasm. “You are weaving a net with fine meshes, Nick, for fair. No fish of Deland’s size could slip through it.”
“Not if we can get him into it,” supplemented Patsy.
“We will set about that without more delay,” Nick declared, rising abruptly. “You slip into a disguise, Patsy, and get after Cora Cavendish.”
“Leave her to me, chief.[Pg 23]”
“Find out where she is and what she is doing, and with what man she has been chiefly friendly of late. It’s ten to one that the man, in whatever disguise you find him, will be Mortimer Deland.”
“Shall I arrest him, chief, if sure of his identity?” asked Patsy, eagerly starting to prepare for his work.
“No, not immediately,” Nick directed. “We want all of his confederates and positive evidence against them. Watch him, or the woman, until that can be obtained.”
“I’ve got you, chief.”