“All right, sir, we are off.”
Jack Weeden watched them as they went off up the road; a satisfied smile was on his lips; he knew that if these men ever got Nick Carter in their clutches, the detective’s life was to be the forfeit for the manner in which he had injured their comrades.
CHAPTER XL.
A BOLT FROM HEAVEN.
When Nick Carter left the doctor’s house he was buried in thought. The events of the day had occurred so quickly that he had hardly had time to figure out in his mind the best thing to do next.
In the first place, what did it mean that Weeden should turn up in the company of Billy Young, the burglar?
What was their object in killing Tom Sweet? Was it possible that they had been seen going somewhere that would have betrayed them?
The visit to the morgue, and the killing of the driver of the ambulance, showed that they knew that he was on the case; also it was evident that they feared that when he took up the case that he would be able to discover the guilty ones.
The great detective, as he walked along, pondered over the various aspects of the strange case. The murders had all been committed by using strange pieces of steel dipped in poison of some kind. As the detective revolved the case in his mind three important questions presented themselves: Who had imported the poison? How had the pieces of steel been driven into the bodies of the murdered men? What object actuated the murderers?
A visit to the scene of the crimes would perhaps throw some light on the matter.
“I will visit the spot to-morrow,” thought Nick; “a search of the woods in the daytime might show something that would give me a clew on which to work.