Nicholas Carter

“ It was a mission that Chick undertook with cheerfulness. Carter saw him leading Bessie and Roscoe Silvius to the drawing-room with Chesterfieldian politeness, and did not trouble any further about him.
Billings opened the door of the dining room with the key he had in his pocket, and Nick went in.
He saw just about what he expected. Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton each had a cigar going, and between them, still slumped down in his chair, as if he never had moved, was the individual who had been put forward as the real heir of the stupendous Milmarsh estate. ”

“ Chick decided that it might take twenty minutes for Patsy to reach headquarters and bring Nick and the police back. In the meantime, he might as well rest a little.
First he went into the back parlor and took another look through the peephole in the closet at the workmen in the other room. There was no change in the scene. The engravers and others were still busy, while T. Burton Potter continued to loll in the rocker, as if he had not a care in the world.
“A change will come o’er the spirit of his dream before he goes to bed,” was Chick’s inward remark, with a slow smile. ”

“ But Nick Carter quickly reassured her, and his cheery tones acted like a stimulant, as he called out:
“Don’t be afraid, and be ready! Leave your father to me! We must get out by the roof. There is no other way. The firemen are up there. They’ll soon break through with their axes. Don’t you hear them hammering on the trapdoor?”
“No,” she cried. “It isn’t the firemen. It’s Howard—Mr. Milmarsh! He can’t open that trap! Oh, can’t we help? Can’t we do something?” ”

“ He pointed to Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton. “They thought it was a slick game, and that we could get away with the bluff. I knew we couldn’t.”
“You could, if you’d had any nerve,” snarled Louden Powers. “But you never could see a thing through. You are all right at the beginning. But you haven’t the pluck to stay with a thing to the end. You’re like a wet firecracker. There’s a whiz and a puff, and you’re done! You make me sick, T. Burton Potter!” ”

“ Bonesy Billings, Captain Brown, Louden Powers, and Lampton were all on their feet, in their excitement. The man who was supposed to be Howard Milmarsh and Thomas Jarvis were the only persons who remained in their chairs. Chick and Patsy had both arisen, as if to prevent any demonstration by Powers or Lampton.
“Sit down!” commanded the detective. “There is nothing to be done. The man who killed Richard Jarvis cannot escape.” ”

“ It was six weeks after the disappearance of Andrew Lampton and Howard Milmarsh from Maple, following their jumping through the window, and Nick Carter was again in his own home in New York.
He sat in his usual place, at the back of the heavy table in his library, looking through some papers. Facing him were Chick, with Patsy Garvan, the latter in a rough and ragged disguise.
Patsy had the ability to “make-up” for any age, from fifteen to seventy or eighty. He had a youthful face, with a roguish, turned-up nose, and bright eyes, so that it was easy for him to be a young boy. ”

“ Patsy snorted defiantly.
“The chief wants T. Burton Potter for other reasons than because he is passing fake bills. That’s what I think. And I believe down in your heart you think so, too.”
“Well, if I do, I have sense enough to keep quiet about it,” was Chick’s rejoinder. “And you’d better do the same. When Nick Carter is working out a case on his own plan and in accordance with theories of his own, it isn’t for us, his assistants, to interfere with him. When he is ready to spring his trap, we shall know what his real purpose is. ”

“ I thought I knew that the man who is in the Universal Hospital is Howard Milmarsh. But that man we have just passed looks as much like the real one as the other. It’s a puzzle. But I must untangle it somehow.”
“We are going to do it to-night, aren’t we?”
“Yes. At least, we’ll try. You have the long dusters and big caps in that suit case, haven’t you, Chick?”
“All right, chief. We won’t look like ourselves when we are rigged up for our little visit to the big house on the hill. You can bet on that.” ”

“ But at last, with a grudging look, Louden Powers brought out a leather wallet and slowly counted out ten hundred-dollar bills to each of his companions.
“There you are!” he grunted. “But it is a foolish thing to draw all the capital out of a business before the time comes to wind it up. I’m going to bed. It’s early—not much after eleven. But I’m tired. I have to go down to New York to-morrow, to see how things are at the office.”
“Hear that, chief?” whispered Chick.
“Of course I do.”
“Well, he may be going to make a get-away.” ”

“ He went up the stairs to a back room, where Patsy Garvan had rigged up a sort of couch for himself while on watch in the house the night before. It was composed of an empty box and some burlap. Anybody who happened to be fastidious might have found it unsatisfactory. But it suited Chick. He was glad to have anything big enough for him to lie down on.
“There’s one thing about this profession of ours,” he soliloquized, “that you don’t find in every kind of work. That is, its variety, as well as its excitement. A fellow never gets dull or lonesome. ”

“ Nick Carter, Chick, and Patsy were all there, together with Billings—who wore evening clothes, for the first and only time in his life. Chick had been the best man at the ceremony, and a niece of Captain Brown’s was the bridesmaid.
Among the guests were all the people who had been swindled over the Paradise City land project. They had got back their money, with a large bonus to each person in addition, and now were there to cheer the finest man who ever had lived in that part of the country, in their opinion, Howard Milmarsh. ”

“ There was no light in the cab, but they happened to be passing a lighted restaurant at that moment, and Nick had a good view of his companion’s face.
“What’s that, chief?” gasped Chick. “Won’t you say it again?”
“I will if you like. I say, that T. Burton Potter is so much like the heir to the Milmarsh millions, that I cannot think they are not the same person.”
“But—but—this Potter is a crook!” protested Chick.
“That is what makes the case so difficult to handle,” replied Nick. “If Potter were an honest, reputable member of society, I should not have to proceed so carefully. ”

“ Patsy grinned, as he leaped upon the wharf right on the heels of his late passenger, and, after hiding behind some freight till Potter walked away, followed him until he had reached the street.
Then followed a chase through the tortuous streets of lower New York, until T. Burton Potter rushed up a stairway to the elevated road at South Ferry. Patsy was not far behind him—so near, in fact, that he contrived to be on the same Sixth Avenue train that carried Potter uptown to Eighth Street. ”

“ With this earnest assurance, Patsy nodded to Chick, waved his hand to the chief, and slipped away.
“It’s a good thing we have Patsy to help,” remarked Nick, when the door had closed. “This man Lampton is a keen rascal, and if he had the least suspicion we had traced him from Maple to New York, we should not get him this time, I’m afraid.”
“Perhaps we should not get him at all,” ventured Chick.
“Yes, we should get him some time. You ought to know that. When we go after a man as determinedly as we have for Andrew Lampton, his capture is never more than a question of time—and perseverance.” ”

“ Old Roscoe Silvius, haggard from illness, sat up on a bed in the adjoining room. Nick wrapped him in a blanket and had him out before the old man knew what was happening.
It was not an easy task to lift the helpless old man through the trap. But Howard Milmarsh helped from above, and it was accomplished in less time than might have been expected.
“Now, you!” cried the detective to the girl. “I’ll lift you.”
Bessie Silvius helped herself a great deal, and in a moment was on the roof, by the side of her father and Howard Milmarsh—as, for convenience, we will continue to call the young man. ”

“ It was five minutes to twelve when Nick Carter surveyed himself critically in the mirror and decided he was enough like the father of the present Howard Milmarsh to pass for him. Then he looked at his assistant. He was much pleased, and he gave him the praise he felt he deserved.
“Excellent, Chick! Grease paint is a wonderful transformer—if you know how to use it. You have changed all your features. When that fellow downstairs sees you, he’ll think it’s himself.” ”

“ It is not an easy thing to get inside the fire lines and be permitted to move about freely—unless you happen to be a newspaper man.
“Keep back, Patsy!” shouted Nick, as he dashed into the house, amid a shower of sparks and through a flood of water pouring from two or three lines of hose. “I’m going alone!”
“Come back!” bellowed a battalion chief. “You can’t get through there!”
Patsy and Chick would both have followed their chief, but firemen held them back, and they were obliged to yield. ”

“ Chick’s jab had been a “rock me to sleep,” as Patsy expressed it.
“Keep back, some of you!” shouted Nick in a tone of thunder. “Twenty against one! Aren’t you men? You can’t be Americans, or you wouldn’t act like cowards!”
His taunt may have shamed one or two of the better sort. But, as a matter of fact, there were very few Americans in the mob. The effect of this speech was to bring half a dozen of the big fellows—ironworkers, and, therefore, powerful—against the detective. ”

“ But that only shows how much alike Potter and this Milmarsh must be; when nobody can tell which is which. You haven’t heard anything of the real Milmarsh, have you?”
“I think I have,” was Nick’s curt reply.
He had to admit to himself that Andrew Lampton and Louden Powers were playing a cunning game. They had taken instant advantage of the sickness of the man hurt at the fire to declare that he was T. Burton Potter, and not Howard Milmarsh. And the worst of it was that it could not be disproved unless the poor fellow whose memory was gone could be brought to his senses. ”

“ That is, unless he’s got out while Patsy was here to-day. Patsy has been keeping as sharp an eye on the crib as any one could, and he knew, before he came away to-day, that Lampton had gone to bed for a few hours. You only want this one man, don’t you?”
“Well, he is the most important. But I want to see the whole gang caught. I have no mercy for a counterfeiter. It is a dirty, contemptible business, because it generally makes people suffer who cannot afford to lose money. The secret-service men will look after them, however—when they learn where they are.” ”

“ He read the principal display lines in a full-page advertisement, as follows:
“‘The new Paradise City! Artistic Homes for Everybody, which are paid for the same as rent. A bower in the midst of nature’s loveliness.’ And so on. Get on to that old gag, chief, ‘Paid for the same as rent?’ That’s a lulu.”
“Advertisements of that kind are always in the papers,” remarked Nick carelessly. “Some of those real-estate developments are all right, too. Others are not, of course.” ”

“ Who’d believe such a wild tale as that?”
“I would, when I have proof—and I have that,” rejoined the detective. “The real Howard Milmarsh has changed considerably in experience in the years he has been away. You know that, because you saw him at Maple, and you’ve seen him elsewhere. It struck you that you knew a man who looked so much like him that he might pass for the missing heir if he were carefully coached.”
“Who is the man?”
“T. Burton Potter,” was the swift reply of the detective.
“Pooh!”
“That is the man,” went on Nick, disregarding the contemptuous ejaculation. ”

“ Andrew Lampton, Louden Powers, and the man whom they called Howard Milmarsh were all in the bedroom which had been occupied by Louden, which was at the front of the house, and at whose window had taken place the parley with Bonesy Billings.
“I’ve got the outside blinds bolted,” announced Louden Powers, “and the window is closed. Of course, if ever they got through the sunblinds, they could easily smash the window. My idea is to fight them off as they come in. We can’t hope that the house is strong enough in itself to keep them out. It is not a castle.” ”

“ You never know where the police will put a man.”
T. Burton Potter was a slick individual, and he had the faculty of seeing all around him without appearing to stare. But, smart as he was, he did not perceive a man who had seen him come out of the house where the person in pajamas had threatened to shoot, and who was following him as closely as possible without being discovered.
“Gee! What luck! I knew he’d try to get through some of these houses if he made a get-away,” muttered this individual.
It may be hardly necessary to remark that the individual was none other than Patsy Garvan. ”

“ Suddenly there arose a terrific racket across the room, and he knew that Chick had come into collision with one of the two men who had come in, at least.
“Get out, you monkey!” growled Chick in a disguised tone. “Here’s one for you!”
A crash told the detective that Chick had floored his assailant, but a quick renewal of the battle was indicated by more noise, with the panting of two men in desperate contest. ”

“ There was a touch of defiance in the last sentence that did more to make Nick believe in the genuineness of this Howard Milmarsh than anything else he might have said. But he remembered that a man who would have the nerve to impersonate another to the extent of taking possession of a large estate, with an eye to an immense fortune in money later, would hardly be lacking in self-assurance. ”

“ The young man said this musingly, as he poured himself out another glass of champagne.
“If he did, all the fat would be in the fire again,” finished Andrew Lampton, also taking some more champagne.
“Well, now, the point is what are we going to do about the Paradise City affair?” said Louden Powers. “There is a row brewing, and the people who have put their money into it want to know when they will get their plots. Can’t you get those lawyers in New York to settle matters for you, Howard?” ”

“ He never mourned over what could not be helped.
It was on the evening of the second day, while Chick [102] and Garvan both were out, trying to get some clew to the whereabouts of the much-wanted Potter, that Nick strolled over to the East Side, and dropped into a rather pretentious saloon—one of the kind that calls itself a “café”—in Third Avenue.
The detective had not disguised himself in the ordinary sense. But he wore a cap, instead of his usual well-brushed hat of latest style, and he had on a long raincoat, which concealed the rest of his attire. ”

“ True, the girl, Bessie Silvius, had called him Howard Milmarsh. But if T. Burton Potter were slick enough to deceive others, why should he not have fooled the girl also?
These thoughts ran like lightning through the detective’s brain, as he and Andrew Lampton both smoked steadily. The former was staring at a picture on the opposite side of the room, as if his mind were quite occupied with it, to the exclusion of everything else.
[128]
“What makes you think the man in the hospital is T. Burton Potter?” he inquired, at last. ”

“ Before Nick could object—if he had intended to do so—Howard Milmarsh had crawled up the steep and slippery slate roof, and was holding to the ridgepole.
Reaching down, he took Bessie Silvius’ hand and pulled her up to the ridge, so that she could slide down the other side of the flat part of the roof.
“Wait a moment!” called Howard to the detective. “I’ll come back and help you!”
“No! You and the young lady get to the ground as soon as you can. I do not need any help. But this roof is getting worse every minute. There is no time for argument.” ”