CHAPTER XXXVI.
AT CROSS PURPOSES.
Staggered, his brain reeling under the shock, Lane Griswold was flung clean off his balance.
What was Nick Carter doing here? Had he hidden the money somewhere, and hurried northward to join his assistant, as if nothing had happened?
That must be it, and yet it hardly seemed possible that he could have made the journey in that time. He would have had to leave New York in the dead of night following the robbery, and if he had reached the mountain resort in the far northern part of the State before Chick’s departure, there could have been no time to spare. In other words, he must have returned at once with his assistant.
But what nerve to have returned at all, in the face of such a message from the man who had been half killed by him!
The detective could not know that the telegram had not been written or dictated by his victim, and therefore, must expect to have to face Cray.
It was incomprehensible, and yet there was Nick, beyond a doubt, and more than that, he was looking as fresh and buoyant as possible.
A policeman brushed past Griswold, and, with a quick movement, the latter touched the officer on the arm. He would have Nick arrested, and then——