“Hold on a moment!” came back the answer. “This is all fast water out here. I’m in the boat. Wait till I find the window.” Nick Carter understood now that the front of the building was in the water and high grass, while at the back it looked upon a rushing stream. He made a short survey of his quarters. “I see some boards that look as if they are nailed on at one place on the wall. I can’t reach them, but I dare say you can kick them open. Try, at all events,” he directed. “All right! Gee! This is a stunt for an orphan boy. It has me going, I’m telling you. Holy mackerel! If this boat would only behave a little. It’s swinging around like a skidding auto. I wish I’d put the chains on! Wow! There she goes!” Patsy Garvan was uttering all these ejaculations in low tones, but they were none the less earnest on that account. He had waited for what he considered a long enough time, and then had just been preparing to go up the chute, when he heard the crash as Nick Carter went through the banisters. “Gee! Something’s broke loose!” exclaimed Patsy then. “Me for the high grass!” He had dropped back into the boat and shot away into the tangle of rushes. Nobody had appeared at the front of the building, and he could not see the back. So he kept in hiding for half an hour or so, and then ventured up the chute once more. This time he crawled to the very top. But the rascals within had investigated to find out how Nick had got in, and when they found the door at the top of the chute a little way open, they had carefully bolted it within. It required only this bolted door to assure Patsy that some trick had been played on his beloved chief, and he cautiously made his way around the large wooden building. He noted that there was a strong stone wall foundation, and when he saw that there were three square openings, each secured by heavy boards within, he understood that a large and water-tight cellar was part of the equipment of the warehouse. When he heard Nick Carter tell him to kick in the boards at one of the windows it was perfectly clear to him what he was to do. Holding his boat firmly at the boarded window where he had first caught the fumes of ammonia, and which had called forth his ejaculation, he warned Nick by saying cautiously: “Chief!” “Well?” “Look out! I’m going to stave in this board with the end of the boat. It may hurt you if you get in the way.” “The boat is below the level of the window, isn’t it?” asked Nick. “Just a little,” was Patsy’s reply. “If it wasn’t, the water would pour into the cellar.” “Then, how are you going to get the end of the boat against the boards, Patsy?” “I’ll tilt the end, and bring it up against the window with the bow for a battering-ram. Get me?” Nick smiled in the darkness at the ingenuity of his assistant, but he merely told Patsy to go ahead, without any more comment. There was a pause, as Patsy rowed his boat a few yards from the wall.