“Only the maid who attended to the room, and she never was long enough there to get at the drawer. Phillips always makes it a point to go in and out of my apartment at short intervals when any one is there doing work of any kind.” “Hum!” was all Nick Carter replied to this. Adding: “Don’t speak of what I have told you to anybody.” He went away, giving the assurance that he would return in the afternoon, and, after telling Chick to come home as soon as he had returned the boat to the man from whom it had been hired, Joe Travers, he hustled downtown as fast as a subway express could take him. After breakfast and a change of clothing, Nick Carter’s first action was to look in his safe to make sure that the jewel watch was safe. He took it out and looked at it. When he had examined it for a few moments, he saw that there was a spring, evidently intended to be secret, hidden beneath the catch that opened the outer case. “I should like to know what that spring controls,” he muttered, as he looked at the watch under a strong light on his large library table. “But it is not my secret. If it has any bearing on the attack of Solado and Miguel upon Marcos, or if it was the principal inducement to Miguel to steal the article, I may learn something about it later. At all events, if there is anything more to interfere with the departure of Marcos from New York, I will keep this secret spring in mind.” The detective was accustomed to take clews wherever he found them, and it was his experience that trifles like this spring in the valuable watch often led to discoveries very much worth while. He was still musing over the watch when his telephone bell rang. Something seemed to tell him that there was a communication of importance trembling on the wire, and he responded with a sharp “Hello!” “This is Claudia,” was the response. “That you, Mr. Carter?” “Yes. What is it, Miss Solado?” “Your assistant, Mr. Chickering Carter----” “Yes, yes?” cried the detective, as the girl paused. “He has gone!” “Gone? Where?” “I can’t tell you everything on the telephone,” rejoined the girl. “But if you will hurry up to Crownledge, you will know what to do.” “I’ll come right away,” answered Nick. “But I wish you’d tell me where my assistant was when he disappeared.” “There was a scuffle in the house, and when Phillips and Jason went to see what it was all about, Mr. Chickering had gone. Please hurry!” “I’ll come at once, of course--be with you in about twenty minutes. But one more question. Who is Jason?” “Phillips’ assistant. The ‘second man,’ as they call him. He is a chauffeur in Joyalita, but has not acted in that capacity in New York.” “Mr. Marcos’--I mean Mr. Joyal’s--servant, eh?” “Yes. Under Phillips.” “I understand,” replied Nick. “Good-by! I’ll soon be with you.” “You will find me waiting for you,” was the girl’s agitated answer. CHAPTER III. NICK CARTER TASTES SALT.