“It doesn’t look as if Mr. Carroll was very domestic in his habits, or intended to remain here a very long time,â€� the detective remarked; and then, without announcing his intention, he drew a heavy bronze paperweight from one of his pockets—he had brought it with him surreptitiously from the manager’s office for the very purpose to which he now applied it—and he struck the hasp of the lock of one of the trunks a mighty blow, which broke it in half.
“What do you mean by such a proceeding?� the manager cried out; but, instead of replying, Nick calmly threw back the lid of the trunk.
The trunk was empty, save for about a dozen lengths of sheet lead, which had been cleated fast to the bottom of it.
Without a word of comment, Nick turned to the second trunk, and served it in the same manner—and with precisely the same result.
“You see?â€� he said, turning upon the manager. “Find Henry Carroll, and you will find the murderer—and I will find him before dark to-night. Come away. There is nothing more to be accomplished here.â€�
Chick was in the office awaiting the detective when he returned to it with the manager and the night clerk. Nick drew him at once to one side after telling the clerk, whose name was Pryor, to wait for him.
“Well?� he said to Chick.
“I think that Lynne must have spent the night at his house. He came out at the usual time this morning and went downtown. I let him go, and came here.�
“Good. Go now to the telephone; call up Ben Oaks; find out if Lynne is there. If so, tell Oaks to find an excuse for detaining him till we get there. If he is not there, ask Oaks to notify us the moment he arrives. I happen to know that Oaks had an appointment with him this morning.�
“There is another thing that is important—a message from Patsy,â€� said Chick. “I telephoned to Joseph, and he read it to me. I put it down as he stated it. Here it is.â€�