“I couldn’t find that out. Maggie seems to be afraid to say much about Ched. All she has been told is that he is a millionaire, and she has that only on the strength of the jewelry he wears when he goes out, and the fact that swell people visit him. He has not lived at that house very long. When he moved in, about six weeks ago, all the things he brought with him were truckloads of big packing cases. Some of these were as big as a house, according to Maggie’s cousin--or sister. When all those were in, furniture came from some big store. It was all new, and Maggie’s relative thinks it is only rented.” Nick Carter had been listening so closely to Chick’s recital that they were at the subway station they intended to go to before they knew it. He told Chick to save the rest till they were in a train. When the train started with them, Chick resumed: “Maggie says Swagara is a quiet young man, who doesn’t talk much. But she has never cared for him since she found he was sneaking away to work somewhere else at night, when he ought to be resting, so as to be ready for what he had to do at Mr. Bentham’s house the next day.” “What time does he leave Bentham’s usually?” asked Nick. “About half past eight. He gets there at nine in the morning, ready to begin work after breakfast.” “Where does he live?” “He has a room in a street off Fulton, down near Borough Hall, Maggie says. That’s all she knows about it. Of course, I had to get all this out of her by degrees, and under the seal of confidence. I tried to make a good impression on Maggie,” continued Chick, with a grin, “and I flatter myself she thinks I’m all right. I told her I was your clerk, and that I sometimes acted as a chauffeur.” “Good!” commended Nick. “Half past eight, you say, Swagara leaves Mr. Bentham’s house at night?” “Yes.” “I want you to bring Swagara to our house when he leaves Bentham’s to-night, Chick. Have him in my library by nine, if you can.” Chick did not express any astonishment at this order. Neither did he seem to have any doubt that he could fill it. He had been told to do strange and difficult things so many times that there was nothing could surprise him now. “All right, chief,” was all he said. “I’ll work it through Maggie.” Nick Carter did not reply. He did not care how his instructions were carried out, so long as he was obeyed. When, after luncheon--which he took at his home, with Chick and Patsy Garvan, his other confidential assistant, for table companions--Chick said he was going out and would not be back till nine at night, most likely, the detective only nodded. He knew that Chick was going after Swagara. For some little time after the departure of Chick, the famous detective busied himself in looking over his mail, which he had not had time to attend to before, and Patsy Garvan helped him.