CHAPTER VI.
THE LAST LINK IN THE CHAIN.
Nick's first glance at the body of Chick took a weight like a mountain of lead off his heart.
Chick was bound and gagged.
This was enough to make Nick certain that no serious harm had come to him, but he was instantly made aware of it in another way.
Cautiously Chick lifted an eyelid. A less acute observer than Nick would not have seen the movement.
The eye opened wide, and then it winked. Chick was all right.
"Shall I cut this rope?" asked Nick.
Chick spoke straight through the gag with very little trouble.
"It isn't necessary," he said. "I can get loose at any moment. Dr. Jarvis is not an expert at tying knots, though there are some other things that he understands pretty well."
"How did this happen?"
"It was a clever trick," said Chick. "He threw some kind of a drug into my face. If I hadn't known—thanks to your teaching long ago—just what to do in a case of that kind, I should have gone to sleep in a second.
"As it was, the drug made my head swim. But I kept it out of my lungs, and pulled through.
"Of course, I pretended to be unconscious, for I wanted to see what he would do. He tied me up rather clumsily; gagged me exceedingly well; and laid me on this slab, after removing a headless body.
"He went down into the cellar, and I slipped my bonds and followed him. I found him getting his furnace ready.
"Knowing what he would do, I got back to my downy couch here, pulled the bed-clothes over me, and waited.
"He came back and got the body of my predecessor and took it down cellar. Of course, he is burning it. Look out! He's coming!"
Chick quickly replaced the sheet.
Nick could see that beneath it Chick slid his hands again within the rope that had been used to bind him.
Then Nick sprang toward the door of the doctor's room, pushed out a case of instruments from the wall, and got behind it.
Dr. Jarvis went to Chick's side, lifted the sheet, and looked at the quiet face.
Then he felt of the rope, but it seemed to be tight.
He replaced the sheet, and came toward the door beside which Nick was concealed.
No sooner had Jarvis passed within the room than Nick came out of his hiding-place and followed the doctor.
Jarvis was engaged in putting a few articles into a small bag. His back was toward the door, but he heard Nick's entrance and turned quickly.
He sprang to his feet with a cry. Then his hands fell to his sides. He was the picture of despair.
"I see," said Nick, "you were preparing to run away."
Jarvis made no answer.
"That would have been the most foolish thing you could do," said Nick. "It would have been equivalent to confession."
"And why not?" groaned the doctor.
"Do you admit your guilt?"
"No, I do not," said Jarvis firmly; "but everything is against me."
"Well, we will consider that subject later. What did you intend to do with my friend yonder?"
He pointed through the open door toward Chick.
"Nothing," said Jarvis. "I intended simply to leave him there. He would not have been discovered till I had got a good start."
"I believe that you did not intend to injure him," said Nick. "I suppose he might as well get up now."
He uttered a peculiar call. Chick instantly sat up under the sheet. Then he threw it aside, got down from the slab, and advanced toward Nick and Jarvis, removing his gag and bonds as he did so.
Jarvis regarded this performance with wonder.
"You should take some lessons in tying knots," said Nick.
"And now," he continued, "we will take you to my house."
"Arrest me?"
"I would hardly call it by that name, unless you prefer it."
"But I am innocent."
"That question we will pass for the present. There is one link wanting in the chain of evidence against you. I shall supply that link, and then we will see what comes of it."
With a hasty movement, Dr. Jarvis took a little vial from his pocket, and raised it toward his lips.
But Nick had been watching. He struck the vial from the doctor's hand, and it went flying through the window.
"If you will give me your word of honor not to attempt suicide again," said Nick, calmly, "I will not handcuff you."
Jarvis hung his head.
"Your word will bind you for three days, no more," said Nick.
"I promise," said the doctor.
"Remove your dressing-gown and cap," said Nick.
Jarvis complied with the request, and Nick received the articles from his hands. Leaving the care of the prisoner to Chick, he carried the dressing-gown to the window.
"Ah!" said he, "you have torn the dressing-gown."
"Where?" asked the doctor.
"It is ripped under the arms," Nick replied, "and the cloth is strained beside each shoulder seam on the back."
"I was not aware of it," said Jarvis.
"Put it on again," said Nick, and the doctor obeyed.
Nick studied his figure carefully. He made Jarvis assume a number of positions, and at last seemed satisfied.
Chick was not possessed of the information to fully understand these maneuvers, but he knew by his chief's manner that the subject was of the first importance.
After the doctor had been clothed properly for the street he was taken to Nick's home in a closed carriage.
Then Nick and Chick had a few words in private.
"That last link which I spoke of," said Nick, "must be supplied by you."
Chick nodded.
"The land back of St. Agnes' Hospital, as you know is a sort of lovers' walk," Nick continued.
"It is."
"If the body of Patrick Deever was hidden there, and was removed to the garden by night, somebody may have seen it done."
"And that somebody," said Chick, "may not come forward without being urged."
"Right."
"I think I can manage it, if there is any witness. Of course, there may be none."
"I will bet you a dollar to a doughnut that such a witness appears whether you get him or not."
Chick looked hurt for a minute, and then he caught a gleam in Nick's eye.
"I begin to understand you," said he.
"Your plan," Nick went on, "is to circulate among the young men who whisper their love in the paths of that particular region. Find who was there on Monday night. It is not easy, but you can do it."
"I will get about it at once," said Chick.
After this conversation, Nick went to see Lawrence Deever.
"Poor Pat's body is in the house," said he, meeting Nick at the door; "but I have kept my promise to you."
"Nobody knows of it, then?"
"Not from me or any of my friends."
"That is as it should be."
"I begin to believe," said Deever, "your idea is to spring this thing on old Jarvis complete. Make the case iron-clad; tie him up double and twisted; and then let it come out in the papers."
His eyes shone with malignity.
"I was surprised," he continued, "to see nothing about it in the papers this morning. Why do you suppose that fellow skipped out of the garden? Who was he, anyway?"
"Didn't you know him?" said Nick, who always escaped a falsehood when he could.
"No, I didn't."
"He may have run away, because he couldn't stand that horrible sight any longer, and he may have been ashamed to confess that his nerves were so weak."
"Perhaps. It doesn't matter. What is to be done to-day?"
"The only evidence I now require," said Nick, "is something to show that your brother's body was hidden in the vacant lot and brought into the garden by Jarvis."
"Why do you need that? But never mind; I will see what can be done."
They separated then, and until evening Nick saw neither Deever nor Chick.
But about six o'clock he met Chick by appointment in Deever's house. Deever himself was not present.
Chick was accompanied by a young man and a pretty young woman.
He presented them as Margaret Allen and Henry Prescott. Both lived on One Hundred and Thirty-fifth street, Prescott in a boarding-house and Margaret with her father.
By the secret sign Chick communicated his belief—founded, of course, upon investigations which he had made—that Prescott and Miss Allen were present to give true testimony.
"These two witnesses," said he, in conclusion, "will supply the only link in the chain which has been missing up to this time."
CHAPTER VII.
THE MAN WITH THE SACK.
"I will have your story first," said Nick to Prescott. "I will not subject Miss Allen to the annoyance of questioning, unless it is necessary."
"We are engaged to be married," said Prescott, beginning his story with evident embarrassment.
"And the course of true love does not run smooth," said Nick, with a smile.
"No, it does not," responded Prescott. "Her father is strongly opposed to our marriage. However, as both of us are of age, it will take place.
"We have been obliged to meet secretly, and we have frequently walked, in the evening, in the grove back of St. Agnes' Hospital.
"We were there Monday evening, and we remained much later than we should have done. We had many things to talk about.
"It must have been midnight when we left the place. As we were walking slowly up one of the paths we became aware that a man was approaching from behind us.
"Not wishing to be seen, we stepped aside among the trees and waited.
"The man came on up the path, and by the moonlight which struggled through the branches of the trees we saw that he was carrying a great sack.
"I instantly suspected that some crime was afoot. My first thought was that this was a grave-robber carrying a body.
"I supposed that he had brought the body to the shore of the river in a boat, and was carrying it to one of the doctors in the hospital.
"We allowed him to pass us, and then we followed him. He went to the wall surrounding the hospital grounds.
"Choosing a place where there is a bank of rubbish against the wall, he lifted the sack to the top. Then I knew that it could not contain a dead body."
"How did you know that?" asked Nick.
"Because he lifted it so easily. What was in the sack I do not know, of course. There was some crooked business about it, I have no doubt, but it was not a body that he had there, because, by the way he handled it, I saw that it could not weigh over fifty pounds, and the sack was too large to have only a child's body in it."
"What did you do?"
"We watched him lay the sack on top of the wall, and then climb up. He dropped the sack into the garden, and let himself down from the wall. We paid no further attention to the matter.
"It made Margaret very nervous, but I proved to her, by the weight of the sack, that her suspicions regarding its contents were unfounded."
"Did you know the man?" asked Nick.
"I hardly like to answer that question."
"Why not?"
"I am afraid of doing somebody an injustice."
"You have a suspicion, then?"
"I have."
"Was the man Dr. Jarvis?"
"I cannot say. I do not know him."
"But his dress—"
"I see that it is useless to try to conceal anything from you," said Prescott. "The man wore the peculiar cap and dressing-gown which everybody knows for the doctor's."
"There is no doubt about it," said Miss Allen. "It was Dr. Jarvis."
"I thank you very much for your evidence," said Nick.
"But why do you want it?" asked Prescott. "I have heard a rumor that Patrick Deever has disappeared. This is his brother's house. Is the doctor suspected of having murdered him?"
"He is," said Nick.
"Then I see the bearing of my story upon the case; but I assure you that that bag did not contain Patrick Deever's body. It was too light."
Prescott spoke with decision. Out of the corner of his eyes Nick could see Chick struggling with this phase of the evidence. Chick was too good a detective not to know that one little fact of that kind is worth a hundred that lie too near the surface.
"You can do me only one more favor," said Nick, addressing Prescott and Miss Allen. "Do not under any circumstances mention what you have seen without my permission."
"You can trust us for that," said Prescott, with a smile, "we are by no means anxious to have our connection with this affair made public."
The two witnesses withdrew, leaving Nick and Chick together. They were silent for several minutes, and then Nick said:
"Well, Chick, the chain is complete."
"It is," was Chick's reply, "and in all my experience I have never seen a plainer case made out against any man."
"You mean from a jury's point of view."
"Certainly."
"What do you think of it?"
"I wish you'd tell me just what you think of it, Nick."
"I guess we shouldn't be found to differ a great deal," said Nick, with a smile. "This is my view—but hold on. Here comes Deever."
Indeed Deever was at that moment entering the house.
He was accompanied by a young man of a very unpleasant appearance. To Nick's eyes he seemed a born thief.
"Well," said Deever, entering the room, "here we are."
"You mean that the case is complete," said Nick.
"Absolutely."
"This witness whom you have brought supplies the link that was wanting?"
"He does."
"I shall be glad to hear his story."
"His name," said Deever, "is John Flint."
"Where are you employed, Mr. Flint?" asked Nick.
"I ain't doing nothing just now," said Flint.
"What do you know about the disappearance of Mr. Deever's brother?"
"I don't know anything about it, but I saw something Monday night which Mr. Deever wants me to swear to."
"And you are willing?"
"Yes, I am willing; but I don't want to get into court if I can help it."
"I told him," explained Deever, "that we would try to keep him out of court. He thinks it might lose him a job he wants to get. There's evidence enough without his, the Lord knows."
"I will hear you now," said Nick.
"The way of it was this," said Flint. "Monday night, about midnight, I was down in the vacant lot of St. Agnes' Hospital. I was just looking for a fellow I heard had gone down that way."
"That was Klein," said Deever.
"I walked up the street, and had just turned the corner of the wall when I saw a man coming up under the trees. He was carrying a big bag.
"I kept out of sight, and watched him. I thought at first that there was some crooked work, but the man with the bag didn't seem to be afraid.
"He came up to the wall in a place where there was some rubbish piled against it, and lifted the bag on to the top of the wall. Then he climbed up himself and let the bag down into the garden. That's all I know about it."
"Did you notice how the man was dressed?"
"He had on a loose, long coat—a queer sort of thing—and a little round cap on his head."
"That will do," said Nick. "I am much obliged. It will not be necessary, I think, for you to testify to these facts in court."
"There's enough without it," said Deever. "You'll take Jarvis to headquarters now, won't you ?"
"Well, no," said Nick. "I hadn't thought of it."
"I'll be doubly and eternally—"
Deever's wrath and surprise choked him.
"Never mind," he said, at last, mastering his rage. "Come along, John. And you get out!"
"With all the pleasure in life," said Nick, quietly walking toward the door.
Chick had slipped away at Deever's approach. Nick met him outside.
"What did Deever's witness say?" asked Chick.
"He told exactly the same story as Prescott."
"I'm surprised to hear it."
"Why?"
"Prescott, in my opinion, told the truth."
"So I believe."
"And Deever's man—I got a glimpse of him—struck me as a liar in the first degree. I took him for a man Deever had hired, in order to hurry up his vengeance on Dr. Jarvis."
"But as they told the same story, and Prescott can have no connection with Deever or the other man, it must be true."
"Right; but the meaning of it—"
Chick paused. Suddenly a flash came from his eyes.
"I have it!" he cried.
"That's good," said Nick. "Now, if you'll follow Deever, I'll go back to Dr. Jarvis."
Accordingly Nick hurried home. He found Jarvis in a state of great mental anguish.
"It is an extraordinary fate," he cried, as soon as Nick appeared, "which has twice brought these Deevers into my life to make me miserable."
"You have had to do with them before?" asked Nick.
"Yes, and in a way that is beyond belief."
"Explain yourself."
"This man, Lawrence Deever," said the doctor, with a groan, "had the incredible presumption to make love to my daughter."
Nick could not help smiling.
"What did you do about it?" he asked.
"I sent him about his business in a hurry."
"Was that all?"
"No; and I'm ashamed to say it. There is no possible way of accounting for the conduct of women. My daughter actually took this fellow's part."
"But nothing came of it?"
"No, sir. I am master of my own household."
"So your daughter really loved this man?"
"No; it was only her obstinacy. They became acquainted in some way. I don't know how. The fellow called at my house. I made my daughter promise never to speak to him, but it was a most unpleasant affair throughout. I thought Deever would murder me.
"It seems strange, perhaps, that I should speak of it in the midst of the terrors that surround me, and yet I can't help thinking of the whole affair as one freak of fate."
"And now tell me the truth about his brother and yourself," said Nick earnestly.
"I will," replied the doctor.
At this moment a messenger was announced. Nick knew that the matter must be of the greatest importance, or he would not have been interrupted in his conference with his prisoner.
It proved to be a message from Superintendent Byrnes asking Nick to come to his house as soon as he could.
CHAPTER VIII.
BEFORE THE SUPERINTENDENT.
As Nick expected, he met Chick outside Superintendent Byrnes's house.
"Go to Jarvis," said Nick. "He is going to tell the whole story. Personate me in this disguise."
Chick nodded and vanished.
Within the house Nick found Deever in the superintendent's presence. Deever's face was red, and he looked like a man who had been kicking a stone wall until he is tired.
"Mr. Deever has lodged a complaint against you, Mr. Colton," said the superintendent, with a twinkle in his eye.
"What's the matter?" asked Nick.
"He says that you ought to have had this man Jarvis electrocuted by this time."
"I have proceeded with great caution," said Nick.
"Yes, you have," said Deever. "You have been very careful to shield Jarvis at every step. He's a rich man, Jarvis is!"
"Deever," said the superintendent, sternly, "I have delayed answering your complaint until this time because I wished to have Mr. Colton present to hear what I said.
"And, now, what I have to say is this—don't you venture to hint at the shadow of a suspicion of his integrity. I am entirely satisfied with Mr. Colton's conduct. I sustain him absolutely. I have put this case in his hands, and there it stays."
Deever quailed at these words, but his natural obstinacy came to his aid.
"I can get a warrant for Jarvis' arrest," he said.
"Go ahead and do it, and make a fool of yourself," replied the superintendent.
"With your permission," said Nick, "I advise Mr. Deever to remain here. Meanwhile we will send a messenger for the witness, John Flint, whose testimony seems to me to be of the greatest importance."
"Proceed just as you wish," said Byrnes.
The messenger was summoned, and dispatched.
While they waited for him Nick reviewed in the presence of the superintendent and Deever the evidence against Jarvis.
Some of it, as the reader knows, was news to Deever. He seemed surprised to find the case supported and strengthened by the man whom he suspected of trying to weaken it.
"I call that plain enough," said he, when Nick had finished. "I will withdraw my charge against Mr. Colton, if some action is now taken."
"No action will be taken except on his advice," said the superintendent.
Deever became excited again. He ran over the evidence, and insisted on an immediate arrest.
Nick said nothing, and the superintendent maintained the calm of an iron statue.
When Deever had exhausted himself, Nick spoke.
"I promise you an arrest in one hour," he said.
At this moment a card was brought in and handed to the superintendent.
"From Chick," he said aside to Nick. "He and Jarvis are waiting. What do you say?"
"Let them come in," said Nick.
They were admitted. Chick, as the reader is prepared to learn, appeared as the exact counterpart of Nick.
Deever was struck dumb with astonishment at the sight, and the doctor's eyes nearly fell out of his head.
Byrnes smiled, and muttered "clever."
"Which of these two men do you complain of, Mr. Deever?" he asked, enjoying the man's mystification.
But Deever did not reply, except to mutter something about the interference of the devil in earthly affairs.
Dr. Jarvis, with some effort, recovered some portion of his composure.
"Well, sir," said the superintendent, addressing him, "I suppose that you have something to say to me."
"I have, sir," replied Jarvis; "and no man could be charged with a more painful disclosure."
"Speak up."
"I am guilty of the murder of Patrick Deever."
This confession produced no perceptible effect upon Nick, though the reader cannot have failed to perceive that the great detective had been working with a conviction of the doctor's innocence.
Of all the persons in the room, Deever exhibited the strongest emotion. He gasped, sprang to his feet, and then sat down again heavily.
"What do you say to that?" he exclaimed, turning to Nick.
"I am waiting to hear Dr. Jarvis' story," Nick replied.
"Yes," said the superintendent, "let us hear all about it."
Dr. Jarvis tried to speak, but the words would not come. He staggered and fell half-fainting into a chair.
"I cannot tell it," he said, when he had somewhat revived. "Wait till I am stronger."
"Perhaps that will not be necessary," said Nick.
"No, no; why should it?" said the prisoner, in a faint voice. "I confess, and that is the end of it."
"However, we would like to know more fully about this affair," said Byrnes, and he looked inquiringly at Nick.
"Let me tell the story," said Nick to Jarvis. "If I am right, you have only to nod. That will do for the present occasion. We are not taking testimony."
"But how do you know—" Deever began.
The superintendent cut him short.
"Proceed, if you please," said he to Nick, and then he fixed his eyes upon Dr. Jarvis.
"In the garden of the hospital," Nick began, "about half-past six o'clock on the evening of Monday last, you had high words with Patrick Deever, who was working under your direction."
Dr. Jarvis nodded, as Nick paused.
"He was somewhat intoxicated, and his language was very abusive. You replied in violent reproval, and he started forward, as if about to attack you."
Again the doctor made a sign of assent.
"You seized a spade—"
"It was in my hand," the doctor interrupted, feebly.
"That is right; correct me whenever I am in error. You raised the spade and struck Deever upon the head.
"He fell to the ground, and you, bending over him, were horrified to find that he was dead; or, rather, that he seemed to be.
"Exactly how he came to life I do not know, but it must have been while you were in the midst of your terror, and beginning to wonder what you would do with the body."
"How do you know all this?" asked the doctor, faintly.
"It is simply the only explanation of all the facts. The witness Klein heard the quarrel and the blow. That blow did not fall upon you, and there was nobody else present but Patrick Deever.
"Now, then, he suddenly came to himself. He sprang up. You were amazed. You advanced toward him.
"Believing that you intended to renew the attack, he ran away. He scaled the garden wall, and fled through the little grove toward the river."
"You are reading my mind," exclaimed the doctor, whose amazement acted as a restorative.
"No, I am not. How else could he have got out? On one side was Klein, on the other St. Nicholas avenue, with many people who would have seen him. He escaped toward the river."
"Then you didn't kill him, after all?" asked the superintendent.
"Of the remainder of that fatal affair," said Dr. Jarvis, "I have only one explanation to give, and that will seem miraculous.
"His body was found buried in the garden. I was seen to bury it. I was seen carrying it there by night.
"But upon my soul, I did not know that I did it. The evidence has convinced me, that is all.
"And this is the explanation: Patrick Deever, after escaping from the grove, must have fallen and died. I must have gone there in my sleep, have found the body, and brought it back to the garden.
"My habit of sleep-walking is well known. I have done things which, from a scientific point of view, were far more marvelous than this."
"Nonsense!" cried Deever; "you were wide enough awake. Superintendent Byrnes will not swallow that story."
"Is it any more wonderful," said Nick, "than what I saw the doctor do in his laboratory?"
The story of that night he had already told to Deever and the superintendent.
"Very little, if any," said Byrnes.
"I passed that night, or supposed that I passed it, at my home," said the doctor. "I took an opiate, and seemed to sleep. But I had dreams of murder and the hiding of dead bodies. I must have walked. It was fate."
"But the wounds upon the body? How about them?" asked Byrnes.
"They must have been made while he was pounding the body down into the earth," said Deever, quickly.
Then he turned to Nick.
"You promised me an arrest within the hour," he said; "now let me have the satisfaction of seeing it formally made."
"Wait," said Nick. "I have yet several minutes; and here is the witness, John Flint."
The man was brought in as Nick spoke. He seemed to be somewhat alarmed.
"What's wanted?" he said.
"Only a little formality," said Nick. "As you do not wish to appear in court, we desire to take your sworn testimony at this time."
The sweat stood out on Flint's forehead, but when the proper arrangements had been made, he took the oath and told his story.
"And now, Dr. Jarvis," said Nick, "it is my very agreeable duty to recommend that you be discharged from custody."
"What!" cried Jarvis and Deever in the same breath.
"Superintendent Byrnes, I appeal to you," Deever exclaimed.
The face of the superintendent was perfectly calm.
"The case is in Mr. Colton's hands," he said, simply.
"What did you mean, you villain," cried Deever, turning to Nick, "by talking about an arrest?"
"I will keep my promise," said Nick. "I will keep it doubly. There is yet one minute of the hour. I arrest you, John Flint, for perjury, and you, Lawrence Deever, for the subornation of perjury."
CHAPTER IX.
THE OTHER SIDE OF A "PLAIN CASE."
As may readily be supposed, the emotions excited in the various persons present differed widely.
But of the two who rejoiced, it is hard to say that Chick was second to Dr. Jarvis. The smile which settled down upon Chick's face was beautiful to behold. He was the image of satisfaction.
"I had it right," he said, and hugged himself.
The doctor in the meanwhile sat in a sort of delightful trance. Just what had happened he could not have told anybody, but he perceived that he had sailed out of all his difficulties.
Flint and Deever, of course, protested loudly, but the superintendent promptly "shut them up."
"Don't you dare to say a word, either of you, till I hear the inside of this whole case," said he.
"It is one of the finest examples of the dangers of circumstantial evidence that I ever saw," said Nick. "No jury that ever sat in the box would hesitate a moment to convict Dr. Jarvis, yet he is entirely innocent.
"The principal confusion, in my own mind, was a result of the doctor's belief in his own guilt. That is why he bribed me, believing me to be Cleary. By the way, here is your five thousand dollars, doctor."
He handed the package of bills to the astonished physician, who could only gasp, "You? you?"
"Yes; I played Cleary," said Nick. "That affair and your attempt to elude Chick amount to no more in the case than that they indicate your own belief in your guilt.
"Now, what is against that belief? In the first place, you would never have disposed of the body by burial. Having that acid, unknown to chemists, in which flesh dissolves like water, you would have used it.
"Your sleep-walking adventure proved to me what you would have done under similar conditions, if awake.
"Having seen that, I had only to be present at the digging up of the body to have a fairly reliable theory of your innocence. Why should you, possessing that acid and that furnace, mutilate a man's face and head with a spade? You had far better means of preventing an identification.
"But the body was buried in the garden. The question is, by whom? To answer that we pass on to the story of the bringing of the body through the vacant lot, and hoisting it over the wall.
"The testimony of Prescott I regard as reliable. Chick's investigations satisfy me as to the man's character and motives. Then we acquit the doctor at once."
"This is nonsense," cried Deever. "I will not be silent any longer."
"Yes, you will," said Byrnes, in a voice that secured obedience.
"It acquits the doctor, I say," continued Nick. "He could never have lifted that body to the top of the wall. There's a physical impossibility in the way of a belief that he is guilty.
"It takes a very strong man to raise a dead body weighing one hundred and seventy-five pounds above his head in the manner described by Prescott. We shall have to work down to that strong man before the case is proven."
Nick looked significantly at Lawrence Deever. That look was understood.
"You're a liar and a scoundrel," screamed Deever, beside himself with rage.
He sprang upon Nick.
Nobody raised a finger to interfere.
The superintendent and Chick calmly awaited the inevitable issue. Flint dared not go to the assistance of his patron.
It was all over in a few seconds.
Deever lay upon the floor, fettered, and Nick stood over him.
"The strong man in the case has been found," said Nick. "I'm willing to admit that you gave me hard work, Deever."
"So it was he that buried the body?" asked Byrnes.
"Yes; I suspected it at once," responded Nick. "It was his deliberate intention to throw the crime upon Dr. Jarvis.
"He stole the doctor's cap and dressing-gown on Monday night, and then returned them when the job was done. But they showed the signs of hard usage.
"You remember, doctor, that I carefully examined them. It was plain that a much larger man than the doctor had worn them.
"The seams in the back and around the arms were strained, and some of them had burst. This was only a hint, of course, but it fitted the remainder of the case.
"The strongest indication, however, was the way Deever secured testimony. I had only to hint that I wanted to cover a point, and he immediately went out and secured the witness."
"But most of them told the truth," said the superintendent.
"Yes," Nick admitted, "there he was wonderfully helped by fate. It happened that he was seen at just the right moments, when he was playing the part of Dr. Jarvis.
"If he hadn't been so impatient it would even have been unnecessary for him to produce this man Flint. Chick secured real witnesses who were much better.
"And there we come to the point where we are sure about Deever. Prescott and Miss Allen told the truth. Flint, prompted by Deever, told exactly the same story.
"Therefore, Deever must have known precisely what the facts were. Investigation convinces me that he could have known them in only one way—by being himself the person who performed the acts described."
"Do you mean to accuse me of murdering my brother?" demanded Deever.
"Certainly not," said Nick. "Do you remember the question I asked you on the first day of the investigation? I asked, 'Who has been murdered?'"
"Well?"
"I answer that question now. Nobody has been murdered. Your brother is alive. There is nothing the matter with him, except a scalp wound. The body found was a substitute which you procured. It was you who made the wounds with the spade."
"This is all bare assertion," cried Deever, who, in irons, sat upon the floor with his back against a chair. "You cannot prove what you say."
"Let me first explain how the trick was done," said Nick, coolly. "Your brother, after he had somewhat recovered from the effects of the blow he had received, went to your house.
"He wished you to help him get revenge upon Dr. Jarvis. You had your own grudge against him on account of your unsuccessful suit for his daughter.
"You saw the chance of a deeper revenge than your brother had any idea of. You then planned this whole conspiracy. He was to go away forever. You were to remain, and make this charge against the doctor."
"It is an infernal lie," shrieked Deever. "Where is my brother? I demand that you produce him."
"Your brother is now hidden in your house at Nyack. It was vacant. You told him to go there, until you could make arrangements to get him safely away. As to the body, you bought it of a grave-robber."
"How do you pretend to know that?" asked Deever, scornfully.
"As to the body, I can produce the man who sold it. As to your brother, I know where he has gone, because no other course was practicable; and because I have had word that he is there."
"I defy you to prove it," cried Deever. "I am willing to let the question of my guilt or innocence rest on that event. He is not there."
There was a peculiar light of triumph in Deever's eyes as he spoke. It did not escape Nick's observation.
The shrewd detective saw at a glance that Deever believed his brother to have already escaped.
Could it be possible? In any event, Nick would not evade the other's challenge.
He felt that his reputation was at stake, but he did not hesitate.
"If I do not produce him in twenty-four hours," said Nick, "I will withdraw my charge against you."
CHAPTER X.
NICK'S REPUTATION AT STAKE.
As Nick made the bold assertion of his power to produce Patrick Deever alive, both Chick and the superintendent looked at him with something as near doubt as anybody who knew Nick Carter could feel in any of his statements.
They both saw that Deever felt sure of his brother's escape, and they could not help seeing that there was many chances in favor of it.
But Nick was undismayed. He put his trust in Patsy's fidelity.
"I shall hold you and Flint under arrest," said Superintendent Byrnes to Deever. "Dr. Jarvis, you may go when you wish."
Nick, Chick and Dr. Jarvis left the room, after the last-named had expressed his thanks to those concerned in his deliverance.
Nick went at once to Nyack. It was very late when he reached there.
He made his way to the house of Lawrence Deever, which stood some distance from the centre of the town.
There was no sign of Patsy about the place. The house seemed to be deserted.
Nick easily effected an entrance. He searched the house thoroughly.
There were signs of the recent presence of Patrick Deever. He had done some rude cooking. The remnants of the food which he had prepared were visible.
But the man himself was not to be found. The method of his exit, however, Nick discovered.
A window in the end of the house, farthest from the street, was wide open, and beneath it, with the aid of his lantern, Nick found the foot-prints of a man who had leaped from the window.
Unquestionably that man was Patrick Deever.
The footprints could be traced a little way. They led toward a hedge which separated the property from a large, vacant tract south of it.
Nick could see where some person had recently broken through this hedge. And here he made a more important discovery, which gladdened his eyes.
Beside the hedge were Deever's foot-prints, and another's. The second must be Patsy's.
Passing through, Nick saw a wide field with a grove at its end. The foot-prints were very faint, but it seemed that Deever had started in the direction of that grove.
Nick hurried thither. He searched through the little clump of trees with the utmost minuteness, till at last, on the farther side, in a bit of soft ground, he found the foot-prints.
They still led in the direction of the river. Following such faint clews as he could find, Nick continued the search till dawn broke.
"Uncle Jimmy" Redwood has boats to let in Nyack. He has a boat-house on the river bank from which a flight of steps leads down to a long "float" extending into the river.
His boats are moored to that float, or anchored near the end of it. He has several fine, fast cat-boats, of which he is very proud.
Uncle Jimmy was overhauling his boats about six o'clock on the morning after the events just described, when a man, whom he had never seen before, came somewhat hurriedly down the steps, and said he wished to hire a cat-boat.
"I want the fastest boat in the fleet," he said.
Uncle Jimmy looked the stranger over carefully. There was a bandage around his head. Uncle Jimmy suspected that something was wrong, but that, after all, might not be any of his business.
"Get the Clio ready for this man," Uncle Jimmy shouted to an assistant at the far end of the float.
"Ay, ay, sir," said the man.
The Clio was lying with her nose against the float, and there was nothing to do but hoist her sail.
However, the stranger seemed impatient of even this delay.
When the sail was up, he jumped into the boat, and prepared to get under way.
But Uncle Jimmy's assistant had hold of the "painter," or rope, by which the Clio had been fastened to the wharf.
"Avast there!" he said. "Mr. Redwood don't let his boats go out that way."
"What do you mean?" demanded the stranger with the bandaged head.
"He won't let you go out alone. How does he know that you will bring the boat back?"
"Nonsense. I want to go by myself."
"He wants to take her out himself," called the assistant to Uncle Jimmy, who stood near the end of the float talking with another tarry old salt.
"He can't, and that settles it," said Uncle Jimmy.
"Shall I go with him?" asked the assistant, who held the Clio's painter.
"No; let Dick, here, go."
Dick, thus delegated to the duty of skipper, rolled down the float with the gait of an old sailor, and got aboard the Clio.
The stranger with the sore head grumbled, but he could not help himself. He insisted, however, on taking the helm as the Clio moved out from the float.
She was scarcely a hundred yards away when a young man, panting with haste, rushed down the stairs from the boat-house. The reader would have known Patsy by his activity, despite his disguise.
"I want a boat," he cried out.
"Quite a run o' business for so early in the morning," said Uncle Jimmy, calmly. "What sort o' boat do you want?"
"I want one that can overhaul the one that just left the float."
"I ain't got it," said Uncle Jimmy. "The Curlew is about even with her, but they ain't one o' them that can outsail her."
"Then give me the Curlew, and do it in a hurry," cried Patsy.
"By whose orders, I'd like to know?"
Patsy was in no mood for trifling. He showed Uncle Jimmy in less than two seconds that obedience would pay well.
The Curlew also was hauled in to the float, and Patsy was aboard of her and clear of his moorings before anybody could stop him, or even get in with him.
A brisk southerly wind was blowing in from the sea.
By the course which the Clio was taking Patsy guessed that it was the intention of her occupants to "beat" down the river against the wind.
Meanwhile, in the Clio, the man with the bandaged head was in a fever of excitement. He crowded the boat for all she could stand, but he seemed, on the whole, to be a clever boatman.
The old salt watched him critically for a few minutes, and then seemed to be satisfied.
Presently he began to notice the anxious glances which the man at the helm cast over his shoulder at the pursuing boat.
"You seem to be anxious to outrun that feller," he said at last.
Patrick Deever, for it was he, nodded his head and set his teeth. The old sailor looked long and earnestly at their pursuer.
"Wall, ye ain't doin' of it," he said, at last.
"Is she gaining?" asked Deever, nervously.
"She be," said the tar, calmly.
"I thought this was the fastest of Redwood's boats."
"So she be," was the answer; "but the Curlew's overhauling her this time."
"What's the matter?"
"The other feller's the best sailor, that's what's the matter. I don't know who he is, but he's a skipper from away back."
For some minutes Deever kept silent. From time to time he glanced astern.
There was no doubt about it; the Curlew was gaining.
"Can you get any more speed out of her?" he said at last, in desperation.
"Reckon I kin," said the tar. "Shall I take her?"
"Yes, and if you outrun them I'll give you a hundred dollars."
"All right."
The grizzled seaman took the helm. In ten minutes it began to look blue for Patsy and his chief. The Clio had reasserted her superiority. She was slowly dropping the Curlew astern.
When they tacked on the other side of the river the Clio had doubled her lead. In an hour the Curlew was half a mile behind.
"Where are ye bound?" asked the old tar.
"There's a vessel anchored in the harbor. I'll show you where. You're to put me aboard and keep still about it. The hundred is yours, and as much more to go with it."
They were nearly abreast the Battery, when suddenly the police-boat was seen heading toward them.
"That's the 'Patrol,'" said Deever. "Give her a wide berth."
Instead of complying, the boatman put his helm over, and stood straight toward the tug.
"Here!" cried Deever; "what does this mean?"
"It means," said the boatman, "that you're my prisoner, Patrick Deever. I am Nick Carter."
Ten minutes later they were both aboard the police-boat, and in another hour Nick had redeemed his pledge to produce Patrick Deever alive before the superintendent.
"I'd have had him, anyway," said Patsy, afterward. "He turned on me in the woods up there in Nyack and knocked me down, and tied me.
"He thought I was done, but I wasn't. I was just going for a tug when you ran him aboard the police-boat.
"At any rate," he said in conclusion, "it's some satisfaction to know that it was you, and not he, that outsailed me."
The two Deevers were punished in due course for conspiracy, and Flint for perjury.
"On the whole," said Superintendent Byrnes to Nick, "I think that was about the prettiest work I ever saw. The most puzzling thing in the world, I've noticed, is apt to be a perfectly plain case."