Against beautiful Mercedes Danton and her family, as well as Nick Carter himself, Rogers had taken an awful oath of vengeance.
How terrible that oath was, how carefully he had considered it and planned for its fulfilment, we are soon to know.
There were two coincidences connected with the escape of Rogers. One was the arrival of Nick Carter at the Grand Central Station at nine o’clock on the same evening, and the other the incoming of the steamship Oceanic, which passed Fire Island at about the hour of the sensational events at the railroad station, and when the vessel docked the following morning among the passengers to come ashore were Mercedes Danton and her father and mother.
It was about half-past nine when Nick Carter reached his house that night, and as he was in the act of ascending the steps to his front door he heard his name called from the street, and, turning, observed, shambling toward him, a man who at first glance appeared to be a genuine specimen of the genus hobo.
He was certainly as repulsive a looking tramp as Nick Carter had ever beheld, to judge from his general appearance, and Nick somewhat impatiently asked him what he wanted.
“I want a word with you, sir, if I may have it,” was the reply. “My name is Tom Morgan. You’ll remember me best as ‘Red’ Morgan, I think. The last time you saw me was when you testified against me in court when the judge sent me away for five years for burglary.”
Nick suppressed a cry of amazement as he recognized Morgan, for he was still revolving in his mind the strange story of old Peter’s will. He controlled himself quickly as he said:
“You must have been having a hard time of it, to judge by your looks. Aren’t there any cribs left for you to crack? Out of prison three months and still broke is an unusual circumstance for you, isn’t it?”
“Oh, I’m not broke by a long shot, Carter.”
“Mr. Carter, if you please, Morgan. I can’t permit familiarity from people in your profession, no matter how much I may happen to admire their skill.”