“No, it was a verbal one,” she replied; “the messenger said he was sent by you.”
“What kind of looking person brought it?” Nick asked.
“One of the queerest little fellows I ever saw,” answered Mignon. “He had a yellow dog with him, and when asked inside he insisted upon the dog coming in, too.”
“Did he call the dog Crackers?”
“Yes, and he informed us that he was to be entered for a prize at the dog show.”
Nick Carter burst into a fit of laughter, which he suddenly checked, fearing his visitor might be offended at his unseemly mirth.
“I know the little fellow,” he said; “he is called Tambourine Jack.”
“He lifted a weight off our hearts, God bless him! I could have kissed him in the excess of my joy, ugly as he is.”
The thought of this beautiful girl bestowing osculatory favors upon Tambourine Jack almost upset the detective’s gravity.
“I have not seen the fellow in several days,” said the detective, “and, indeed, I would like to see him, to discover how he learned of the imposture tried by the villains who carried your father off.”