“You can bet I’ll find him,” thought Nick, far from favorably impressed with the woman. “She must be the wife Jones mentioned. She looks as if she had[Pg 26] done her share of hard work, and looks like a hard ticket, as well.”
Nick presently found the man, and his impression of the woman faded to utter insignificance. He discovered him in one end of the building, that nearest the river, evidently engaged in repairing a leather belt which hung over a wheel of part of the overhead machinery, and for a moment Nick was fairly startled by his appearance.
For Ardley was a giant in stature, a huge, hulky, red-featured man of about fifty, with a mop of hair that hung like a lion’s mane over his brow and ears. He was a type before which ordinary men wilt away to utter insignificance.
He was clad in coarse overalls, huge cowhide boots, and a thick woolen shirt, so open in front as to expose his massive neck and his great, bulging chest, covered with scraggly hair. His sleeves were rolled above his elbows, revealing a pair of brawny forearms, knotted with thick muscles and as large around as a ham.
He was, in fact, as prodigious and powerful and in a way as repulsive a man as Nick Carter ever had seen.
It was not in the detective’s nature, nevertheless, to be deterred from his purpose by this ominous aspect of the man. He saw at a glance that he was a good deal of a boor and a brute. He saw, too, that he was gifted with no art to disguise his feelings and resort to subterfuge, if caught unprepared for an accusation; and, now seriously suspecting that he knew something about the crime of the previous night, Nick resolved to bring him up to the ringbolt then and there.
Ardley’s huge face was purple from his exertions with the heavy belt, when, hearing the detective’s footsteps on the floor, he turned and saw him.
“Hello!” he cried, with a leonine growl, as if surprised.
“How are you?” returned Nick complacently.
“What d’ye want?”