To Nick Carter John Dashwood explained his presence on the wharf that fatal night.
"Filbon's absence from home," he said, "alarmed me. Of course, there was the possibility that he had fled the city, fearing that Mr. Leonard, upon discovering the robbery, would have him arrested and punished. But there was, also, the possibility that Filbon, weak-natured as he was, had committed suicide. After a talk with his mother, in which I made light of my call, saying it was on a matter of business requiring attention early next morning, and of which I had forgotten to speak when I parted with Filbon, I went to the wharf, fearing that he had thrown himself into the river, yet hoping I should find him somewhere in the vicinity, his rash design not yet accomplished. I did not find him, but I met Madame Ree."
A few days after this conversation Nick and Chick left St. Louis for New York.
In his comfortable den the great detective went over the case for the benefit of Patsy and Ten-Ichi. They were intensely interested in the recital of events, dating from the night of the disappearance of John Dashwood.
"When did you spot the truth?" asked Patsy.
"When I found Cora Reesey's brooch on the wharf, I began to have a dim idea of what had happened. But I did not unbosom myself to the chief of police, for the reason that I hadn't a particle of evidence to support the theory that the woman had been murdered and not the man. Thereafter, however, I worked with that theory in mind. It seemed plausible. In fact, it was the only theory which could explain many circumstances. The disappearance of Filbon's boat was evidence to my mind that a living body had been taken away, and not a dead one. There would be no need to row away with a dead body; the deep, slowly moving Mississippi could take care of that. Then, as I thought of the possibility of somebody—Leonard, probably—taking away a wounded man in a boat, my mind reverted to the assurance Leonard had given his daughter that Dashwood would soon turn up all right. If he had killed Dashwood, or knew that Dashwood had been killed by somebody else, he would not have acted as he did.
"The finding of the rusty iron pipe settled the matter for me. Upon that pipe, adhering to the partly detached flakes or wafers of rust, were human hairs of the color and fineness of the hairs on the head of John Dashwood. But they were also of the color and fineness of the hairs on the head of Cora Reesey. I might have been confused over the hairs had I not noticed one very long one, much longer than any that was ever upon the head of Dashwood. It was a woman's hair, and it was stuck to the rust with coagulated blood.
"Now, convinced that Leonard had killed the woman, and had carried away Dashwood, who had been wounded by the woman—and I readily conjectured in what manner and under what circumstances the wound had been received—I instituted the search for Leonard, which resulted in the discovery at the sanatorium. I might not have succeeded but for Chick's assistance. Chick is a good one. He never missed a trick."
Chick, who had been in a brown study, looked up, a question in his eyes.