CHAPTER XIX.
THE RIGHT MAN.
It was precisely nine o’clock when Nick Carter, Chick, and Belle Braddon arrived at Godard’s shore house, to which they were admitted by the humpback and conducted into the dining-room.
Nate Godard appeared pale and somewhat intoxicated when he received them, but his nerve quickly returned after the introductions and the hearty responses of his visitors, and he promptly invited them to the sideboard to have a drink.
“Here’s your very good health, Mr. Hedge,” said he, addressing Nick by the name he had assumed.
“Yours, too, sir,” cried Nick.
“So you are fond of bucking the tiger, are you, and have come out here to give my game a little play?”
“Fond of it’s no name for it, neighbor,” declared Nick, as he drained his glass. “I’m a bit off color just now, though, for I haven’t set down before a stack o’ checks for nigh a year. All the more saved up for you to win, eh?” he added, with a boisterous display of good humor. “That ere’s one way o’ looking at it, Mr. Godard.”
Godard joined in Nick’s loud laugh, and Belle Braddon, who was now making up to Nick with an eye to the future, playfully twined his arm with her hand and cried gleefully:
“Oh, you’re really too funny, Mr. Hedge.”
“Thet so, lass?”