There was an alarm of fire in the street, and then fire apparatus stopped in front of the building. Chick opened the door to the hall and looked out. The whole place was in flames. The detectives darted toward the private staircase, seeking escape by way of the basement, but were there met by a column of flame.
Nick threw open the windows, and fire ladders soon made their appearance. It was clear that the lower part of the structure was little better than a furnace.
“They hardly succeeded in burning us alive,” said Chick, as the four men stood on the pavement below. “That was a fool trick, it seems to me.”
“The idea,” said Nick, “was undoubtedly to destroy the papers and identifying records of the Great Diamond Syndicate. In this they only partially succeeded, for I have quite a mess of documents in my pocket. The house, however, seems to be doomed to destruction.”
This was indeed the fact, for the building burned to the ground. It was afterward discovered that the basement had been filled with combustible material, for use in just such an emergency. It was clear to the detectives that the Great Diamond Syndicate took due care of its secrets. It is true that the chief, believing Nick Carter to be as good as dead, had talked of the syndicate to him, but he had done this principally through vanity, and with the purpose of showing how the keenest detectives of the day had been outwitted by the superior wisdom and courage of the mighty syndicate.
CHAPTER XVI.
MORE TROUBLE.
As Nick thought over, word for word, the talk of the diamond thief, he could not see that his communications had much injured the syndicate. He had informed the detective that there was such a syndicate, and that was about all. However, this was something to start with, especially as the papers of the syndicate had been captured. Indeed, Nick had already suspected the presence of a great conspiracy in the matter of the robbery. He had understood that it was not the work of one man. The discovery that the murder had been committed by a woman who wore clothing made in Paris had started this train of thought. His experiences at the house on Houston Street, independent of the admission of the chief thief, had confirmed his earlier notions.
“Well,” said Nick, “they have done the best thing they could under the circumstances. This blaze scatters the American branch of the Great Diamond Syndicate. Only for the papers I have in my possession, the very name might be something in the nature of a dream, for all the talk of the chief thief.”