CHAPTER II.
THE DEAD MAN'S HEAD.
Dr. Jarvis, chief of the staff of St. Agnes' Hospital, was well known as a peculiar man.
He was rich enough to take his leisure, but he worked like a slave. He had an elegant house on St. Nicholas avenue, but he spent all his days and more than half his nights at the hospital.
A rude cot in a little room adjoining his laboratory in the hospital was his bed four nights in seven on the average. His only recreation was found in the care of a little garden in the hospital grounds; and it was the common talk of the younger physicians that Dr. Jarvis enjoyed finding fault with the gardener more than he did cultivating the flowers.
He had a wife and a young, unmarried daughter, whom he loved devotedly, but to whom he gave only a few hours of his time in the course of a week.
A negro named Caesar Augustus Cleary was the doctor's assistant in the laboratory.
The other physicians in the hospital said that Cleary had become so accustomed to Jarvis' ways that, like a Mississippi mule, he had to be cursed before he could be made to understand anything.
Cleary slept in a little closet similar to the doctor's, and on the opposite side of the laboratory. He was asleep there, about twelve o'clock on the night after Nick's visit to Lawrence Deever, when Nick crept softly through the window.
All these rooms were on the ground floor and entrance was easy.
Nick had spent a part of the evening in the garden. He had watched till the light went out in the laboratory and another appeared in the doctor's bed-room. Then he was ready for a search of the premises.
If, in a moment of anger, Dr. Jarvis had struck Patrick Deever and killed him, it was likely that the laboratory would hold some trace of the secret.
The best way to hide a human body is to utterly destroy it. This is no easy task for an ordinary man, but to a scientist, like Dr. Jarvis, it would be comparatively easy.
However, it would take time. Patrick Deever had disappeared on Monday night. Forty-eight hours had elapsed, but yet Nick hoped to find a trace, if the work of destruction had been attempted in the laboratory.
Nick had entered Cleary's room with the purpose of guarding against any interruption from the negro. He found Cleary sleeping heavily; but when Nick left the room and glided into the laboratory, Cleary's sleep was even deeper than it had been before.
An adept in chemistry, Nick knew how to produce a slumber from which no ordinary means could arouse the sleeper. His drug was sure and it left no bad effects.
The laboratory was unlighted, except by the moon, which shone in over the shutters, which covered the lower parts of the windows, preventing observation from without.
The first object which attracted Nick's attention was a corpse which lay upon a stone table in the middle of the room.
Nick had made a hasty search of the laboratory some hours before, while the doctor had been at dinner. He had then seen this corpse, and had assured himself that it was not Patrick Deever's; but he had been unable to do much more before the doctor returned. Therefore, he had made this late visit.
He first examined some instruments which lay near the dissecting-table. They revealed nothing. Then for perhaps half an hour, he searched various parts of the room without result.
Beneath the laboratory was a cellar in which, as Nick knew, were electric apparatus and a furnace which the doctor used for his experiments.
Nick was about to descend into this cellar when a noise in the direction of the doctor's room attracted his attention.
He turned and beheld Dr. Jarvis entering the laboratory.
Realizing the possibility of such an event, Nick had disguised himself as Cleary, yet he wished to avoid being seen if possible.
He got into the darkest corner available and watched.
Dr. Jarvis had on only his night-shirt, a skull-cap and a peculiar red dressing-gown, which he wore whenever he worked in the laboratory or in the garden. This dressing-gown and the queer red skull-cap were so old that nobody about the hospital could remember when they had been new. Cleary once said that he believed they were born and grew up with the doctor.
Without noticing Nick, Dr. Jarvis advanced directly toward the dissecting-table. He had no light, but the moon's rays glanced brightly around the slab.
The doctor drew back the sheet which covered the figure, revealing the head and naked breast.
Then he drew some instruments from a case, and proceeded to sever the head from the body.
This secret action in the dead of night surprised Nick greatly. Could it be that some clever trick had been accomplished? Had the body which Nick had seen been removed, and that of Patrick Deever substituted?
From where he stood Nick could not see the face of the body clearly enough to form a decision. If, however, this was only an ordinary subject for the dissecting-table, why did Dr. Jarvis mutilate it with such caution and at such an hour?
To cut off the head was the work of a very few minutes to the skillful physician.
He soon held it in his hands; and it seemed to Nick that the old physician gazed at it with peculiar attention in the moonlight.
Suddenly Dr. Jarvis turned, and, carrying the head in one hand, holding it by the hair, he advanced toward Nick. In his other hand the doctor held a knife which he had used in his ghastly work.
Nick had little hopes of escaping discovery. Evidently it was the doctor's intention to carry the head into the cellar, and the detective was concealed close by the stairs.
But Nick was not discovered. Dr. Jarvis stalked by, within six feet of him, and looked neither to the right nor to the left.
Still bearing the head, he descended the stairs, and Nick crept after him.
The cellar was perfectly dark except where a faint glow around the little furnace could be perceived. Nick was therefore able to follow the doctor closely.
But suddenly the place was made light. Dr. Jarvis had touched a button in the wall, and a row of electric lights, suspended before the furnace, flashed up.
Nick had barely time to drop flat on the floor behind a row of great glass jars full of clear fluid, the nature of which he could not determine.
These jars were set upon a sort of bench made of stone, rising about two feet from the floor. Between them and the furnace stood the doctor. Nick was on the other side.
It seemed tolerably certain to the detective that Dr. Jarvis would throw the head into the furnace. Nick determined to get a sight of the head at once. He was yet uncertain whether it was Patrick Deever's.
Rising on his hands and knees he peered between two of the jars. The head was not more than a yard from Nick's eyes, but the face was turned away.
By the hair, and the general outline, it might be Deever's. At all hazards Nick must get a sight of it before it was consigned to the furnace in which a fire, supported by peculiar chemical agencies and much hotter than burning coal, raged furiously.
Suddenly, when it seemed as if the doctor was about to raise an arch of fire-brick in order to throw the head into the fire, he turned and dropped the grim object into the jar almost directly above Nick's head.
It was carefully done, though quickly. The head sank without a splash. Only a single drop of the fluid—a drop no bigger than a pin's point—fell upon the back of Nick's hand.
It burned like white, hot iron. It seemed to sink through the hand upon which it fell.
Nick sprang to his feet, not because of the pain of the burning acid, but because he knew that he must instantly obtain a sight of the head or it would be dissolved.
It lay face upward in the jar, but the acid, even in that instant, had done its work.
All semblance to humanity had vanished. As Nick gazed, the head seemed to waver in the midst of the strange fluid, and then, suddenly, Nick saw, in a direct line where it had been, the bottom of the jar.
The head had been dissolved.
Nick raised his eyes to Dr. Jarvis' face.
There stood the doctor, entirely unmoved. He looked directly at Nick but seemed not to see him.
His eyes were fixed, and their expression was peculiar. One less experienced than Nick would have supposed Dr. Jarvis to be insane.
Certainly his conduct as well as his appearance seemed to justify such a
But Nick knew better. He recognized at once the peculiar condition in which Dr. Jarvis then was. He had seen the phenomenon before.
"Walking in his sleep," Nick said to himself. "Shall I wake him here? I think not. Let me see what he will do."
CHAPTER III.
THE DOCTOR OFFERS A BRIBE.
Nick was not greatly surprised by his discovery. He knew that Dr. Jarvis was a sleep-walker.
The reader may remember the case of a young woman who, in her sleep, walked nearly a mile on Broadway, and was awakened by a policeman to whom she could give no account of her wanderings.
At that time, the newspapers had a good deal to say about sleep-walking, and several good stories were printed about Dr. Jarvis. The doctor was sensitive on the subject, and he had threatened the most dreadful vengeance if he ever found out who had betrayed his secret to the reporters.
These stories came into Nick's mind at once. He decided to witness this strange scene to the end.
There was, however, little more to be observed. The doctor extinguished the lights and ascended the stairs.
He paused a moment beside the mutilated body; put away his knife, drew the cloth over the corpse, and then turned toward his room.
Nick followed, and entered the room close behind the somnambulist. It is sometimes possible to question a person in that condition, and to learn what he would not disclose when awake.
Some such intention was in Nick's mind, but he had no opportunity of executing it. The doctor walked to the window, of which the shade was drawn. Accidentally he touched the cord, and the shade, which worked with a spring, shot up, making a loud noise.
With a peculiar, hoarse cry, the doctor awoke. He exhibited the nervous terror common at such times. He jumped back from the window, and turned toward the bed.
Nick, disguised as Cleary, stood directly before him. It was impossible to avoid discovery. The moonlight flooded the room.
"Cleary!" cried the doctor, "why are you here?"
"I heard you moving about, sir," replied Nick, imitating Cleary's voice which had very little of the ordinary peculiarities of the negro. Indeed, he was an educated man.
"Walking in my sleep again," muttered the doctor. "And such dreams! Great Heaven! such dreams!"
"I thought you must have had a bad nightmare," said Nick.
"I have. It was dreadful."
The doctor pressed his hands to his head.
"What did you dream, sir?"
"What business is that of yours, you infernal, inquisitive rascal?"
"Well, sir," said Nick, respectfully, "I thought from what you did—"
"Did? What did I do?"
Nick very briefly described the scene which he had witnessed.
Dr. Jarvis seemed overcome with horror.
"Is it possible?" he cried.
Then suddenly he turned and hurried out into the laboratory. He went straight to the corpse upon the slab of stone, and drew back the cloth.
Nick followed, and together they gazed upon the mutilated body. It seemed to Nick that it was the same which he had seen before, and which he had known to be not that of Patrick Deever. But in the uncertain light he could not be certain.
Dr. Jarvis gave him little time for making his decision.
He hastily replaced the cloth, shuddering convulsively as he did so. Then he returned to his room.
He sat down upon the edge of his cot, and held his head in his hands. When he looked up his violent mood had passed away. He seemed to wish to talk.
"It was a hideous dream," he said.
"Murder?" asked Nick.
"There was murder in it," replied the doctor. "I thought that I had killed—that I had killed a man."
"Patrick Deever?"
"How the devil did you know that?" cried the doctor, springing to his feet.
"Well, sir, the man has disappeared, and—"
"And somebody has been filling your head with foolish stories. Who was it?"
"Mr. Deever was asking some questions about his brother."
"And you told him everything you knew, and a good deal more, I suppose?"
"I didn't tell him anything."
"It's lucky for you that you didn't. Now, look here, Cleary, you know where your interest lies. Don't you lose a good job by talking too much."
"No, sir; I won't. But there's something in dreams, and—"
"There was agony in this one. I thought that I had killed Deever, and was obliged to hide his body. I felt that the police were close upon me.
"It seemed as if I had only one night in which to make myself safe. I thought first of burning the body in the furnace. Then it seemed best to use the acid. Heavens, I am glad to be awake again!"
"Such a dream as that means something, sir."
"It means this—that miserable, drunken rascal has disappeared, and I am likely to have trouble about it."
"He'll come back."
"I don't know about that. Perhaps he won't come back."
"Have you any idea where he is, sir?"
"Do you think I killed him, Cleary?"
"No, sir; certainly not."
"But suppose I did? What then?"
"Well, sir; it's a terrible thing. I—"
"Would you betray me?"
"I would not say a word unless I was sure that you were guilty."
"Even then, why should you speak?"
"There's a conscience, and—"
"Nonsense! What business is it of yours? Now look here; you think a good deal more about money than you do about your conscience. I've got money, and I'm willing to pay well to keep out of trouble."
"But I don't want to get into any."
"You won't. All you've got to do is to keep still."
"Keep still about what, sir?"
"This sleep-walking to-night."
"I won't say a word, unless—"
Nick hesitated. He wished to give the doctor the impression that his innocence was by no means clear, and that the idea of shielding a murderer was not to be entertained.
His acting was evidently successful.
"Look here, Cleary," said the doctor, "I don't trust you. There's just one thing that will satisfy me. You must get away."
The doctor was trembling violently. Evidently fear had taken possession of him.
"Get away?" asked Nick, as if surprised.
"Yes; I'm afraid of you. You will talk."
"But where shall I go?"
"Go to Australia," said Dr. Jarvis, after a moment's reflection. "You have no family. It makes no difference to you where you go, so long as you have money."
"How much money?"
"In that safe," said the doctor, pointing to a steel box in the corner, "there is enough to start you. I have about five thousand dollars in cash there, and I will send ten times as much more after you. Is that enough?"
"You take my breath away," said Nick. "When must I go?"
"At once; to-night."
"But, Dr. Jarvis—"
"Don't talk. Do it. If fifty thousand dollars isn't enough, you shall have a hundred thousand within six months."
"How do I know that you will send it?"
"If I don't, come back and denounce me."
"But how will you explain my going?"
"I will say that you have gone to Europe for me as you did go three years ago."
Nick shook his head.
"Dr. Jarvis," said he, "I've worked for you twenty years, and I think as much of you as of any man living, but I can't do this."
"Why not?"
"I can't shield a guilty man."
"Nonsense, you idiot; I am as innocent as you are."
"Then why do you send me away? No, Dr. Jarvis, this is plain to me. You killed him."
"I killed him?" cried the doctor.
"Yes; but you are not a murderer at heart. Some accident led to this. Tell me how it happened, and if it is as I think, I will go."
"I tell you I am innocent. I had nothing to do with this man's disappearance."
Despite all Nick's ingenuity, Dr. Jarvis stuck to this assertion. There was nothing left for Nick, in the character of Cleary, except to pretend to believe it.
He resolved to accept the doctor's bribe. This was almost necessary, for in any case he would be obliged to remove Cleary.
After this conversation, it would not be safe to leave the negro there. The doctor would, of course, discover that some trick had been played upon him as soon as he mentioned the events of the night to Cleary.
The results which would follow such a discovery Nick wished to avoid.
He, therefore, with great caution, accepted the proposal, and received a large sum as the first installment of the blackmail.
As to the doctor's real intentions, Nick was in some doubt. It seemed probable that he meant to sacrifice Cleary to secure his own safety in case it became necessary.
If Cleary ran away, it would be easy to divert suspicion to him.
The case against Dr. Jarvis looked very plain. Innocent men do not take such desperate measures. And yet Nick was far from reaching a definite opinion in the case.
He returned to Cleary's room; and it required a good deal of skill to keep the doctor out of it. If he had entered, and had seen two Cleary's, it is hard to say what desperation would have led him to do.
For an instant Nick had an idea of letting him do it, and then attempt to secure a true statement of the case with the aid of the shock which the doctor would have sustained on discovering how he had been duped.
But second thought showed him the necessity for a different procedure.
From Cleary's window he signaled for Chick, who was in waiting near the wall, and to him he delivered the unconscious form of the negro.
Then he returned to take his leave of the doctor—a difficult business, which he managed with great skill.
This done, he secretly left the hospital.
What had been the true meaning of the night's events? It puzzled him to say.
Was the body on the slab that of Patrick Deever, or had the doctor gone through in his sleep the act which he intended to perform later with the real body?
Nick thought that the latter was more probable. He was inclined to believe that the body of Deever might be concealed about the building. If so, he would find it.
Reflecting thus, he passed outside the hospital walls.
Three men were approaching along St. Nicholas avenue. Two of these he quickly recognized as Chick and Lawrence Deever. The other was unknown to him.
Evidently Chick had sent Cleary away in a carriage which they had kept waiting near the hospital during the evening. How he had met Deever, Nick could not guess.
He went forward to meet the three men.
He had removed the disguise in which he had deceived the doctor, and was now as Deever had seen him before.
Deever recognized him at once, and started forward, saying:
"You ask for proof of my brother's death. I will give it to you. Here is a man who saw him buried."
And he pointed to the stranger.
CHAPTER IV.
WHAT WAS FOUND IN THIS GARDEN.
Nick received Deever's startling intelligence with every evidence of satisfaction.
"You are doing great work, Mr. Deever," said he. "We shall soon have this affair straightened out."
As Nick pronounced these words he signaled to Chick in their sign language as follows:
"What do you think of this witness?"
Chick promptly returned the answer:
"He seems to be telling the truth."
Then Deever turned toward the new witness.
"Mr. Haskell, Mr. Colton," said he, in hasty introduction. "Now, Haskell, tell what you know."
"Wait," said Nick, "who is this man?" And he pointed to Chick.
"He's a fellow that knows my brother. We met him just below, and brought him along to help in the identification. There are two more coming."
"Then you purpose to disinter your brother's body at once?"
"Of course I do."
"You have no tools."
"The others will bring them. That's what they're after."
"Where is the place?"
"The hospital garden. Haskell, tell your story. But, no; I'll tell it for you to save time."
He took Nick by the arm and led him along the hospital wall on the southern side of the ground. They followed the wall in the direction of the river, until they came to the corner.
Between them and the river was a large piece of ground nearly as wild in appearance as it was a hundred years ago. Many trees and bushes grew upon it.
"This place," said Deever, "is a sort of lovers' walk. Any pleasant evening in summer you can see dozens of couples walking down that path.
"Haskell was here Monday evening with a young lady. They sat for a while on the trunk of a fallen tree, looking off toward the river.
"It was nearly eleven o'clock when Haskell walked home with her. Then he discovered that he had lost his knife. He had been whittling the tree-trunk with it.
"It was a good knife, and he thought it worth while to go back and try to find it. He went back, and after quite a hunt, found it beside the tree.
"By this time it was after midnight. On his way home he passed the spot where we are now standing.
"Just as he got here, he heard a peculiar noise on the other side of the wall. It seemed strange that anybody should be at work in the garden at that hour, but the sound was as if somebody was using a shovel.
"Haskell has more curiosity than a woman. He resolved to find out what was going on inside that garden.
"The wall here is pretty high, as you see, but with the help of a piece of board he climbed up so that he could look over. Now, Haskell, tell us just what you saw."
Chick and Haskell had come up just as Deever finished his introduction to the story.
"I saw Dr. Jarvis digging," said Haskell.
"How did you know it was he?" asked Nick.
"He had on his dressing-gown and cap," Haskell replied. "I guess pretty near everybody who lives up this way knows those things."
"What did you do?"
"I watched him a couple of minutes. He seemed to be hard at work digging a hole. I never thought then that it was a grave."
"Could you see how big a hole he was making?"
"No; he was under the shadow of the trees. I could hardly see him at all there, but just as I got on the top of the wall, he came out for a second or two into the moonlight. Then I saw the old cap and dressing-gown."
"Did you see any object lying upon the ground which looked like a body?"
"No; it was dark under the tree. The body was probably there."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, it couldn't have been anywhere else."
"How do you know there was any body ?"
"Mr. Deever has told me about his brother. I take it for granted that the doctor was burying him."
"Did you tell anybody about this occurrence?"
"No."
"Why not? It was strange enough."
"I didn't think it was strange for him. Everybody knows that the doctor is a sort of crank. When I saw who it was, I just slid down off the wall and went home. I never would have thought of it again if Mr. Deever hadn't spoken to me about his brother."
"You can point out the spot where the doctor was digging?"
"Sure."
"We will make an examination at once."
"I thought you'd find out that murder had been done," said Deever. "You'll find out, if you stick to me, that I pretty generally know what I'm talking about."
"That's right," said Haskell.
"Here come your friends," said Chick, who had not spoken up to that time.
Two men were seen coming from St. Nicholas avenue. They carried spades and pickaxes.
Thus reinforced, the party proceeded to scale the wall. Just as they did so, the moon, which had been very bright, was obscured by a heavy cloud.
It was in darkness, then, that they descended into the garden.
But Haskell seemed to be in doubt about the direction to be followed. He started off at once.
They had gone less than a hundred feet when suddenly Haskell shrank back. Deever, who was next to him, ran against him violently.
"What's the matter?" whispered Deever, in an anxious tone.
"There's somebody here ahead of us."
All looked where Haskell pointed, and they were able to make out the figure of a man standing in one of the numerous paths which wound through the garden. He appeared not to have noticed the advancing party.
"He isn't ten feet from the grave," whispered Haskell. "It's under that tree right beside him."
At this moment the moon broke through the cloud. Its light fell round the figure in the path.
It was Dr. Jarvis.
Nick's first thought was that this was another sleep-walking wonder, but in a second this idea was dispelled.
The doctor saw the intruders. He uttered an exclamation, and seemed about to retreat in the direction of the hospital. Then summoning up his courage, he paused, and confronted them as they came forward.
"Who are you?" he asked, in a trembling voice.
"I'll soon show you who I am?" cried Deever, angrily, "and I'll show these gentlemen what you are, in a few minutes."
"Lawrence Deever!" cried the doctor.
"Yes; I'm Lawrence Deever," was the reply, "and I've come to find my brother."
"You are a fool and a knave," the doctor exclaimed. "Your brother is not here."
"We'll see about that."
"I order you to leave this garden."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Nick, stepping forward. "I have the proper authority, and what we shall do here will not harm you."
In a few words he showed Dr. Jarvis the futility of resistance. Nick explained in a few words the evidence of Haskell, and made no attempt to conceal its true bearing upon the case.
He spoke with his customary calm and steady tone, and his words seemed to reassure the doctor.
"The fellow is a liar and the tool of a liar," said the doctor, glaring at Deever. "I shall challenge you to find that body in this garden."
"It's here, unless you've taken it away," said Deever, roughly. "Now, Haskell, show us the spot, and we'll go to work."
Thus urged, Haskell, who had hung back, as if afraid, stepped forward with no sign of hesitation, and pointed to the ground under one of the trees.
"He was at work just under this long limb," said Haskell.
Nick bent down to examine the ground. It was a flower-bed which looked as if it had recently been sown.
The spot was excellently chosen for concealment. It was impossible to tell whether the earth there had recently been disturbed.
Deever seized a spade and began to dig. He was a man of enormous strength, and he worked furiously.
The two men who had brought the tools joined in the work, but they did less than half as much as Deever alone.
In an incredibly short time the hole was four feet deep. Then Nick suggested that they proceed with greater caution.
"The body," he said, "was probably buried without protection. If you strike it with your spades you may increase the difficulty of identification."
Thus warned, Deever's two assistants worked with care, but Deever himself continued to ply his spade like a madman.
Not knowing the exact spot, they dug a hole much larger than a grave, and thus the three men were able to work at the same time with advantage.
Suddenly Deever cried:
"Here it is!"
His spade had struck something more solid than the soft earth.
All sprang forward, and the doctor uttered a cry as of terror.
Hastily the earth was removed from the buried object, until it could be lifted to the surface.
Chick stepped forward, and brushed the last of the earth from the face with his handkerchief. Then it was dragged to where the moon shone full upon it.
A murmur arose from the little party. The face of the dead man was cut and mangled with many wounds.
"It's Pat," said one of those who had assisted in the digging. "There's no doubt about it."
"Yes," said Haskell, who was shivering with fear, "I recognize the clothes he had on."
"He's got no coat," said one of the men; "where's that?"
"It was hanging on a tree in this garden," said Deever.
Then he bent forward over the corpse, and took from around the neck a string to which a little cheap locket was attached.
"He always wore that, poor boy," said one of the men.
Deever turned to where Dr. Jarvis stood. The face of the doctor was whiter than paper, as the moon shone down upon it.
"What do you say now, Jarvis?" said Deever, coldly. "Do you confess your crime?"
The doctor recovered himself with a mighty effort.
"No," he cried. "I deny all responsibility for this man's death."
CHAPTER V.
THE BODY ON THE SLAB.
Nobody seemed to be much impressed by Jarvis' declaration of innocence.
The finding of the body in the exact spot indicated by Haskell looked like conclusive proof. Added to this was the doctor's presence beside the grave in the dead of night.
"It's a plain case," said Deever, turning toward Nick. "Will you make the arrest now?"
Dr. Jarvis shuddered as these words were spoken. It was easy to see that he was on the verge of despair.
"Let's not go too fast," said Nick.
"What stronger proof can you possibly desire?" exclaimed Deever.
He seemed to be dazed with surprise at Nick's delay, but Dr. Jarvis plucked up his courage.
"I wish first to examine the body," said Nick.
He bent over the corpse which lay in the bright moonlight. The cause of death was evident at a glance. The head had been beaten and cut in a frightful manner.
"See," said Deever, bending over the body, "these wounds were made with a spade."
"They have that appearance," said Nick.
"Why, it's as plain as the nose on your face," exclaimed Deever, utterly losing patience.
He seized a spade from the ground and applied it to the wounds.
"The first blow, the one which killed him," said Deever, "was struck with the side of the spade on the top of the poor boy's head. It was a terrible blow."
Nick examined the wound. It was plain that no person could live a minute after receiving such a fearful injury.
"The other blows," Deever continued, "were some of them made with the side, and some with the tip of the spade.
"I can see just how it happened. Pat angered Jarvis with the words that Klein heard. Jarvis rushed upon him, knocked him down with the spade, and then beat him like a maniac in his rage."
"And then buried him, eh?" said Nick, in a doubtful voice.
Chick looked inquiringly at his chief. He had never seen Nick conduct a case in that way before.
Instead of taking the lead in the investigation, the great detective seemed to wait for suggestions. After his first glance at the body, he had stood irresolute, as if he could not make up his mind about the value of the evidence.
This conduct of his chief interested Chick deeply.
"Watch Nick Carter," he said to himself, "and you'll always be learning something."
"Of course he didn't bury him then," Deever replied to Nick's question. "Haskell saw him digging the grave after midnight."
"Where do you suppose your brother's body was in the meantime?" asked Nick.
"Hidden in the garden somewhere."
Nick shook his head.
"There is no place in the garden where it could have been hidden. I have searched the place thoroughly."
"He may have taken it into the hospital; into his laboratory, perhaps."
"That can't be," said Nick. "You remember that Burns met the doctor coming in from the garden. If he had already brought in the body he wouldn't have come out again. On the other hand, the body couldn't have been in the garden, or Burns would have seen it. He looked all around for your brother."
For the first time Deever looked puzzled. He hesitated a long time before he replied. Then he said:
"Jarvis must have thrown Pat's body over the wall. He must have hidden it among the bushes in the direction of the river."
"Yes," Nick rejoined; "that seems probable."
"Well," cried Deever, "will you make the arrest?"
"I think not. The evidence does not seem to warrant it."
Deever threw up his hands in utter amazement.
"Not sufficient!" he exclaimed. "What remains to be proved?"
"I should like some evidence bearing on the question where the body was hidden during the evening, and how it was got back to the garden."
"You don't mean to say that you will wait for that before taking this man into custody?"
"Yes," said Nick, slowly; "I shall wait for that."
"But, meanwhile, how will you guard against his escape?"
"I will take him back to the hospital, where one of my assistants is waiting. I will put him in charge of that officer, who will remain with him until I feel justified in taking him to headquarters."
"Then you practically put him under arrest," said Deever, with evident satisfaction.
"Yes; but it will not be known except to us who are here. I expect your friends to be silent for the present."
"I'll answer for them," said Deever. "I know them all well, except that man—where is that man?"
He looked around for Chick, but that individual had disappeared. He had caught a glance from Nick when the latter had spoken of his assistant at the hospital, and had immediately slipped away under the shadow of the trees.
"That fellow will give it away," cried Deever. "That's what he sneaked for. He'll sell the news to the papers."
"If he does we can't help it," said Nick. "And as for you, I judge that you would not be sorry if he did."
"You are right," said Deever, looking grimly at Dr. Jarvis, "the sooner this murderer is held up before the public the better I'll be pleased."
"I shall be sorry," said Nick, "and yet perhaps it will not make much difference. In the meantime we will do what we can to keep the secret on our part."
Deever chuckled. It was evident that he regarded the secret as already out, and that he was entirely satisfied.
"Now come with me," said Nick to Jarvis, "and you others wait for me here."
He led the doctor to his room in the hospital, where, of course, they found Chick, in a different disguise, waiting for them.
Jarvis acted like a man in a trance, he was so thoroughly overpowered by the horror of his situation. In his room, he seemed to forget the presence of the two detectives. He flung himself down upon his cot, and appeared to sink almost instantly into a stupor.
After a word or two with Chick, Nick made his way back to the little group around the dead body.
"Get a carriage up to the wall," said Nick, "and remove the corpse to your house. I will see a coroner, and get the necessary permit. I will be answerable for the removal in advance of the permit."
In spite of Deever's distrust of Nick, the great detective's manner, when he spoke with decision, was such as to secure instant obedience.
The body was carried to the wall; two men were left to guard it, while Deever, with Klein, went for the carriage.
Nick separated himself from the party. He did not go to see a coroner, however. He went to Lawrence Deever's house, which he entered secretly, and searched from top to bottom, but without finding anything of interest.
Then he went to his own house, where he waked Patsy.
"Go to Lawrence Deever's country-house near Nyack," he said to his youthful assistant. "Watch it, and see that no man leaves it."
Morning was breaking as Nick secretly entered St. Agnes' Hospital, and made his way to Dr. Jarvis' room.
He pushed the door open softly, believing that the doctor would be still asleep, and Chick on guard.
The room was empty.
Nick was at first amazed, and then he reflected that it was quite possible that some disclosure of the prisoner had led Chick to accompany him in search of evidence.
He passed out into the laboratory. It was darker at this hour of dawn than at midnight with the moonlight in it.
The sheeted figure still lay upon the slab. Was it a body obtained in the usual way, under the sanction of the law, or had it a criminal history? Nobody knew better than Nick the secrets that may lurk in the dissecting-room.
With such thoughts, he paused a moment beside the body. He was about to lift the sheet in order to satisfy some doubts which still lingered in his mind when he was attracted by a slight noise in the cellar.
He quickly stepped to the head of the stairs. Certainly there was some person below.
Nick cautiously descended the steps. The electric lights were not shining, but the furnace sent up a glow in which the surrounding objects were dimly visible.
The first of these objects to command Nick's attention was no other than the white face of Dr. Jarvis bending over the furnace.
He had removed some portion of the arch above the raging fire, and just as Nick's eye fell upon him, he put a human arm into the white flame.
In that fierce heat it was almost instantly consumed, and only the faintest smell of burning flesh escaped into the cellar.
The corpse from which the arm had been taken lay upon the floor. Nick could not see it plainly, but his heart leaped wildly.
There was but one explanation of Dr. Jarvis' conduct.
Under the cloth in the laboratory above, Nick had seen the outline of a body.
Whose, then, was this man giving to the flames?
It could not be any but Chick's!
Evidently the doctor had, by some fiendish trick, succeeded in overcoming his powerful watcher, and he was now removing all trace of the body, preparatory to his own flight to the ends of the earth.
The horror of this thought was almost too much for Nick's iron nerves.
If this was Chick's body, all human help was now vain.
What should be done to secure the most certain retribution?
Plainly the corpse, or what remained of it, must be recovered before the fire had completely made away with it.
Nick was about to leap forward, and interrupt the dreadful work which was in progress under his eyes, when suddenly a new inspiration came to him.
With a bound as noiseless as a tiger's, he was at the top of the stairs. In another instant he stood beside the sheeted form upon the slab.
He withdrew the cloth.
The body was Chick's.