“Stop a bit,” Chick objected. “If they are going to attempt making a deal with Dillon and the woman, there will be time enough for us.” “Time for what?” questioned Patsy. “Time to search this house,” said Chick. “It evidently is where the crooks have been quartered. We may find what we want.” CHAPTER X. A DESPERATE MOVE. It was nearly noon. Less than three hours had passed since Nick Carter and his two assistants set to work on that eventful morning. There was a change in the scene in Captain Casper Dillon’s library. Nick Carter was seated in one of the large chairs near the wall, tied to it and with his arms secured behind him. His strong, clean-cut face, nevertheless, wore an expression of absolute indifference. He sat listening without concern to the discussion that was in progress. There was another prominent figure in it at that time. He was seated near the library table, on which still lay the plans Nick had brought there, and the safety of which was all that then gave him any uneasiness. This figure was that of the Baron Esterveldt, who had followed Irma Valaska there in a touring car, then directed his chauffeur to return home. The woman, one of Europe’s cleverest spies, then was seated near him. Captain Dillon had been liberated, of course, and was in nervous exultation over the less threatening turn of affairs. There then were three other persons in the room--Andy Margate, Tom Carney, and Larry Trent. They had arrived upon the scene ten minutes before. The forces that had been in operation had come together, had united for the first time, and explanations formed a part of the discussion, conducted almost entirely by the Baron Esterveldt and Margate. “Never mind how I came to know of your designs,” Margate was saying to the other just as a French clock on the mantel struck twelve. “That’s neither here nor there. All that we need come to is a settlement of the matter as it stands.” “What do you consider a settlement?” Esterveldt demanded, with sonorous voice. “That can be told with few words,” returned Margate coldly. “Brevity is desirable under the circumstances,” said Esterveldt, with a sneer. It was ignored by Margate. “There is just this much to it,” he went on icily: “I have in my possession certain articles for which you people have conspired. They are intact, just as we found them when Captain Dillon reluctantly parted with them.” Dillon scowled darkly, but did not interrupt. “We will return them to you for a price,” Margate continued. “What that sum shall be, and when the deal can be completed, are the only two questions to be settled.” “Ah, indeed?” queried Esterveldt, frowning. “What about this detective and his assistant, the one you say is in your hands?” “You may dispose of them as you please, Baron Esterveldt,” Margate said coldly. “I can imagine that your subsequent safety will permit of only one course.” “There is some truth in that.”