Incidentally, knowing that Follansbee’s charges were very high, he thought best to mention the facts concerning the recent sale of the mine. He informed the specialist that Stone and Crawford had been equal partners in the Condor, and that the share of each was reputed to be five hundred thousand dollars. For no particular reason, he added that so far as was known Stone and Crawford were alone in the world, and that the general understanding was that each had drawn a will in favor of the other before the estrangement had come about. Young Floyd was nothing if not thorough, but had he known the consequences which would follow the writing of that letter he would have cut off his right hand rather than send it. CHAPTER IV. CRAWFORD IS TROUBLED. The boat deck of the _Cortez_ was of wide expanse, shaded by gleaming canvas. The South American liner had just passed Sandy Hook, bound inward, and was making its stately way toward New York harbor. It was late in the evening, and in a couple of deck chairs two figures were seated. The men were chatting together quietly. The taller of the two, clean-shaven and keen-faced, was puffing contentedly on a fragrant Havana. They were Nick Carter, the distinguished New York detective, and his leading assistant, Chick Carter, who were returning from a couple of weeks’ holiday spent in Jamaica. The _Cortez_ had touched at Kingston on its way north from South American ports, and it was there that the detective and his assistant had come on board. “Evidently we won’t be home until to-morrow morning,” Chick Carter said quietly. “It will be too late for disembarking to-night. Of course we could get a special dispensation, if necessary, but I don’t believe in pulling wires unless there’s need for it. All the same, I’ll be glad to get back into harness again.” Chick grinned in the darkness. He had enjoyed their short stay in beautiful Jamaica, but he had noted that his chief had chafed at the idleness, especially during the last few days. “Let’s hope there’s something waiting for us that will let us sit up and take notice,” he said. “I feel fit to tackle anything.” They were both in evening dress and awaiting the sound of the dinner gong, which soon called them to the saloon. There were over fifty first-class passengers on board, and at the detective’s table were two men who had interested him. They sat side by side opposite to him, and their broad shoulders and tanned features told plainly that they were men who had spent the greater part of their years out of doors in some hot country.