“I am a detective.”
“From Pemberton Square?”
“From New York,” replied Nick. “Yet I have just come from Chief Weston’s office, in Boston, and at his request I shall undertake to run down the gang of thieves who are at work in this section.”
Though a doubtful smile curled Badger’s thin, firm lips at this confident announcement, he at once displayed more cordiality when Nick stated his vocation.
“I hope that you may succeed, officer,” said he, with the same husky voice. “Come into the house. From New York, did you say?”
“Yes,” replied Nick, entering. “You may wait for me, Grady.”
“All right, sir,” cried Grady, from his seat in the runabout.
“What name, officer?” inquired Badger.
“My name is Carter.”