In a few minutes he ran up a flight of steps leading to Nick’s downtown den, where he had captured Brockey, and knocked at a door.
Footsteps crossed the room beyond and the door was opened.
“You, boy! Come in.”
Billy entered, looking at the person who had opened the door, and who now stood in the middle of the room looking at him with a smile on his face. He had expected to find Chick Carter or Patsy there, and he was surprised to meet the great detective himself already on the trail once more.
“What’s happened, boy?” asked Nick.
“They’ve got Mother Flintstone at last, sir.”
“Who have?”
“That’s for you to find out, Mr. Carter.”
“You don’t mean that the old lady’s dead, Billy?”
“Don’t I?”