“That’s what I propose to do, Chick.”
“Go to the bottom of it, Nick?”
“Plumb to the bottom,” declared the famous detective. “I am now in the case in dead earnest, Chick, and I’m going to know who killed that man Kendall or lose a leg in the attempt.”
“I’ll wager you’ll retain both legs,” laughed Chick.
“I gave my word to that Royal girl when I believed there appeared nothing very serious in the way of making good my promise, and now that I find myself confronted with the most serious of all problems, I’m blessed if I’ll throw up the sponge. I’ll ferret out the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You hear me!”
Chick laughed again, and he was by no means blind to the grim determination reflected in Nick’s face, nor to the feelings with which his words were imbued.
It was less than an hour since Nick left the scene of the murder committed the previous night, and he had hurried home to rejoin Chick and inform him of all he had seen and heard.
With Nick Carter to think was to act, yet despite his hurried return from Fordham, and the fact that he was now very definitely actuated, Nick was not a little puzzled by the conflicting evidence of the case.
It was this evidence that he was discussing with Chick, which had led to the foregoing digression, while Nick was rapidly putting on the same disguise that he had worn in Flood’s place the previous evening.
“It appears plain enough that Flood went out there last night after leaving his faro-bank,” Nick grimly continued. “You saw him take that cane just as he departed, and I can swear it to be the same that was found this morning.”