He bellowed this last at his men, and Nick Carter went down the ladder, with Paul Clayton following him into the boat. Four sailors rowed them to shore, and it seemed to the detective as if they were trying to move as lazily as they possibly could. “Pity they don’t hurry!” broke out Clayton impatiently. “It wouldn’t do any good,” returned Nick. “Our man has got a good start, and a few minutes more or less in crossing the harbor won’t make much difference. When we get ashore we can hustle. Meanwhile, we shall have to take it philosophically.” The boat trip was over at last, and Nick Carter, who was familiar with the beautiful city of San Juan, walked with Paul Clayton along the shaded avenues until he got to the Ionic Hotel. Situated on the side of a hill, and overlooking the harbor, the hotel was a favorite stopping place for visitors, and one could be sure of hearing most of the gossip of Porto Rico if he lounged about the lobby for an hour or so. This was one of the reasons that Nick Carter had taken up his abode there. Another was that he knew John Garrison Rayne’s love of luxury, and he felt pretty sure that the Apache would be at the Ionic if he thought it safe. “It ought to be easy to catch him, I should think,” observed Paul Clayton, as Nick Carter said this. “Can’t tell,” answered the detective. “I have had dealings with this scoundrel before, and he is as cunning as a rat. However, we’ll go into the grill room and have a good meal, anyhow. I expect my two men here soon.” The anticipation of the detective proved to be correct. He and Paul Clayton had not yet begun on the luncheon Nick Carter had ordered, when his quick eye made out Chick and Patsy strolling along the big lobby, looking in every direction, but in a careless way that disarmed suspicion. Suddenly Chick caught sight of his chief, and whispered to Patsy to stay behind for a moment or two. “All right, Chick!” responded Patsy. “I see what you mean. There’s the chief over there. You go slowly to him, and I’ll join you afterward.” These precautions were rather elaborate, perhaps. But the two assistants knew that they were dealing with a dangerous man in Rayne, and that he was quite likely to have some spies at work in the hotel, even if he should not be there himself. “What do you know?” asked Nick casually, as he bent over his plate, when Chick and Patsy were both seated at the table. “Have some luncheon and answer me cautiously.” “We haven’t found out a thing,” acknowledged Chick. “Haven’t seen or heard anything about him,” added Patsy. “Exactly! Just what I expected,” returned Nick Carter coolly. “Let me help you to some salad, Mr. Clayton.” The detective did the honors of the table with as calm and smiling an air as if there were not a thing on his mind. But his brain was working busily. CHAPTER VI. HOW NICK GOT A LIGHT. It was two days later. Nick Carter, his two assistants, and Paul Clayton were in the bedroom of Nick in the Ionic Hotel.