“Cecil Kendall was found murdered in the rectory grounds this morning!”
CHAPTER VIII.
BY WHOSE HAND?
Recalling the promise given Medora Royal, and now feeling a decided interest in the case itself, Nick Carter at once hastened to Fordham, and approached the rectory just before nine o’clock.
The news of the crime had spread, and at one of the side gates a curious crowd had gathered, restrained from entering the grounds by one of the local police.
Near the house, and at some distance from the street, was a group of men, including several officers and a physician, also the rector himself, all apparently interested in the doctor’s examination of a body lying upon the ground at their feet.
That Doctor Royal was among them, rather than in the house, suited Nick to the letter. Slipping into a disguise, that he might not thus early be identified with the case, Nick hastened to the adjoining cross-street on which the dwelling fronted. There he encountered none to oppose his entrance, and he strode quickly up the long gravel walk and rang the door-bell.
The summons brought Dora Royal to the door, and Nick, observing her shrink with surprise, quickly made himself known.
“I come in response to your telegram, Miss Royal.”
“But you are not Mr.——”
“Oh, yes, I am,” interposed Nick significantly. “I do not wish to be recognized by others, however. I want a word with you alone, that I may add to the instructions I gave you yesterday.”