Andy Margate did nothing of the kind. He suddenly seemed to grasp the altered situation. He reached into his vest pocket and clapped something to his mouth. Then he dropped as if struck by lightning, landing with a thud on the floor, face up. An empty vial was rolling to one side, glistening in the bright light. Nick approached, shaking hands with Chick and Patsy, and then he gazed down at the vial and the white, upturned face. “Paying the price--that’s right,” he said a bit grimly. “He has saved us the trouble. He spoke the truth for once in his life. The price has been paid.” Midnight saw Baldwin and Nell Breen lodged in a prison cell, Lombard dying in a hospital, and Andy Margate laid out temporarily in the back room of a city undertaker, his bier a plank, his covering a sheet. Lombard confessed before he died, but it needs no record in these pages. For it confirmed in nearly every detail the theories of Nick Carter, as already set forth in his discussion of his suspicions and deductions. The relief of Garland, as well as that of Senator Barclay and Stella, the gratitude of all for Nick and his assistants--these go without saying, as Nick remarked when they attempted to thank him. “It’s satisfaction enough for me that we have canned Andy Margate,” he added. “Lombard will not live till morning, moreover, and the others will get what’s coming to them. Who could ask more in behalf of justice?” THE END. “On Death’s Trail; or, Nick Carter’s Strangest Case,” will be the title of the long, complete story that you will find in the next issue, No. 147, of the NICK CARTER STORIES, out July 3d. In this story are recounted some of the most interesting adventures which have ever befallen the famous detective and his almost equally famous assistants. Then, too, there will be the usual installment of a corking good serial, together with several short but interesting and instructive articles. FIGHTING WITH CHEESE. The most remarkable ammunition ever heard of was used by the celebrated Commodore Coe, of the Montevidian navy, who, in an engagement with Admiral Brown, of the Buenos Airean service, fired every shot from his lockers. “What shall we do, sir?” asked his first lieutenant. It looked as if Coe would have to strike his colors, when it occurred to his first lieutenant to use Dutch cheese as cannon balls. There happened to be a large quantity of these on board, and in a few minutes the fire of the old _Santa Maria_--Coe’s ship--which had ceased entirely, was reopened, and Admiral Brown found more shot flying over his head. Directly, one of them struck his mainmast, and, as it did so, shattered and flew in every direction. “What the dickens is the enemy firing?” asked Brown. But nobody could tell. Directly another came in through a port and killed two men who were near him, and then, striking the opposite bulwarks, burst into pieces.