A Broken Bond; Or, The Man Without MoralsCarter, Nicholas (House name)
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A Broken Bond; Or, The Man Without Morals
Carter, Nicholas (House name)
Detective and mystery stories; Dime novels; Popular literature
Once more Nick Carter eased himself out of his window. It was getting
to be a habit with him. His long legs bridged the gap as before, but
this time his errand was, if possible, even more fraught with risk than
the previous ones had been.
He lowered himself over the rail slowly and with infinite care, and
then, stooping, crept along the platform to Stone’s window. By peering
in through the crack between the sill and the partly lowered sash, he
saw the tall miner in the act of picking up the little leather case
from the writing desk. Stone’s back was turned to the detective, and
the latter seized the opportunity to slip noiselessly past the window.
A few feet ahead of him loomed another window, dark and open at top
and bottom. Winthrop Crawford was fond of fresh air. The lower sash
was raised about eighteen inches, which made it possible for Nick to
flatten himself over the sill and crawl through. It required daring
under the circumstances, but his performance that night would have
established a reputation for that sort of thing on the part of any one.
The room was in darkness, but the detective had previously found
opportunity to study the position of the furniture. He was able,
therefore, to avoid a collision, and his stockinged feet trod softly on
the thick carpet. A private bathroom opened off from the bedroom on the
side opposite the connecting door which led to Stone’s quarters. Nick
darted into this and began cautiously to close the door.
“Let’s hope our friend Crawford is a sound sleeper,” he thought; “and
that this door isn’t inclined to squeak. If he wakes up now and starts
on a burglar hunt, it will mess things up hopelessly.”
Crawford’s heavy breathing went on uninterruptedly, however, and the
sound was reassuring. It seemed to indicate, on the other hand, that
Crawford would fall an easy victim to his old partner’s attack; but the
detective had already pulled Stone’s fangs.
He waited perhaps five minutes, standing behind the bathroom door,
which he had left slightly ajar. At the end of that time the opposite
door, that leading from Stone’s room, quietly opened. As it did so,
it revealed the fact that Stone had put out his own lights. Nick
stiffened, for he knew that the crucial moment was close at hand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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