“Well,” said Patsy, “Claymore was in his office all the time from one o’clock to ten minutes of four, when a messenger came to tell him of Judson’s death.” CHAPTER IV. NICK’S JOURNEY TO HANK LOW’S. Kerr and Folsom stared at each other and at Nick. They were no fools, and it was clear enough what Patsy’s errand meant. “Then,” said Folsom, in a low voice, “you suspected Claymore?” “Oh, no, not exactly,” Nick replied; “but I thought it would be just as well to make it impossible to suspect him. That was all.” This remark did not convince either of the men. “You wouldn’t have gone to this trouble,” said Folsom, “if you hadn’t believed that he had a motive for the crime.” “As to motive,” replied Nick, “I can only guess, but if Claymore is crooked and Judson was straight, isn’t it possible that Judson threatened an exposure, and that Claymore would try to prevent it?” Kerr nodded. “That’s all right,” he said; “but in the face of this evidence,” and he tapped the messenger’s book. “It looks very bad for Hank Low,” admitted Nick. “You think that Claymore set Low up to it?” remarked Folsom. “Do I?” inquired Nick mildly. “Well,” responded Folsom, “what are we to think?” “Anything you please. I am willing to take hold of this case, but, as I start under unusual difficulties, I want you to let me go at it in my own way.” “Certainly, Mr. Carter,” said Kerr; “but I don’t see the difficulties with all this evidence----” Nick raised his hand. “You have done first-rate work, Mr. Kerr,” he said. “The evidence is sound, as far as it goes. But it don’t go quite far enough. The difficulties I refer to are the fact that so many men know that I am here, and that the only man who can say that Judson was murdered is dead.” “I see,” said Kerr. Folsom turned pale. “You think, then,” he said hoarsely, “that it was not a case of murder at all?” “I didn’t say so,” responded Nick; “but this I will say, for, as I am in it now pretty deep, there’s no use in concealing my thoughts from you two--but you mustn’t let it go any farther.” “Certainly not, Mr. Carter.” “Well, then, I don’t believe that Hank Low did it.” Both Kerr and Folsom stared, open-mouthed. “By thunder!” said Kerr slowly, “if any man but Nick Carter said that----” He hesitated. “You’d say he was a fool,” remarked Nick. Kerr laughed uneasily. “I am afraid I should,” he admitted. “That’s all right,” said Nick; “you can think that of me just as well as not, if you want to. Meantime, I’ll go out and get acquainted with Hank Low.” “To-night?” “Now.” “Won’t you want help?” “Oh, no. If I don’t come back with him as a voluntary prisoner, Mr. Kerr, I’ll help you arrest him in the morning, and give you all the credit.” “Credit be hanged, Mr. Carter! I’m not a jealous idiot.” “Glad to hear you say so. You will lie low, then, till you hear from me again?” “Yes, but if it was any other man----”