"Never!" laughed Chick. "And the best of it is, Nick, your conclusions nearly always prove to be correct. What's the verdict, old man?"
Nick glanced at the French clock on the mantel.
"Sit down and light up," he replied. "We have half an hour before getting down to work against this push. I will devote it to informing you of the case as it now appears."
"Good enough!" exclaimed Chick, drawing up a chair and lighting a cigar. "Let her go, Nick. I am all ears, as the donkey said to the deacon."
"To begin with," began Nick, more gravely, "this order sent to Hafferman, for the diamonds which he delivered at Venner's store, is merely a forgery. Neither Venner nor Garside wrote it, that's as plain as the nose on an elephant's face."
"Which is plain enough, surely," nodded Chick.
"Furthermore," continued Nick, "the forgery was not the work of any clerk employed in either store. I have compared the writing of each and every clerk with that of the forged order, and I will stake my reputation upon my conclusion. The forgery was committed by some outside party."
Nick was an expert chirographist. To have deceived him with a disguised handwriting would have been utterly impossible, and none knew it better than Chick, who now nodded approvingly.
"Some outside party, eh?"
"There is no doubt of it, Chick. And this conclusion at once suggests two very natural questions," Nick went on. "First, was one of the Kilgore gang in Hafferman's store when Venner went there yesterday, and did he overhear enough of what passed between them to enable him to plan the job done this morning?"