“I’m not yet sure what I shall frame up. Be that as it may, Chick, you hike back to town and get after Dayton. It’s dollars to fried holes that he has a hand in this game. Use your own judgment as to the best course to shape, and leave Patsy and me to tie knots in this end of the string. That’s all for the present.” “Enough said, too, Nick,” replied Chick, seizing his hat. “You have pulled off a clever bit of work, remarkably clever, and we’re now right in line to deliver the goods. Leave Dayton to me. I’ll get him.” Chick did not wait for an answer. He hurried out of the house and started for town in the taxicab. CHAPTER VII. HENLEY SHOWS HIS HAND. It was, indeed, a clever bit of detective work that had enabled Nick Carter to form a theory consistent with all of the circumstances and the accumulation of evidence denoting that Arthur Gordon was guilty of the basest of treachery and the most heinous of crimes, and which would have been convincing not only to the public, but probably to all other detectives than Nick Carter himself. He keenly realized, however, that a theory based only upon his own convictions was not enough, that absolute evidence was needed to convince others, and he was not long in hitting upon a plan by which he thought he could obtain it. Nick hurriedly explained it to Patsy, giving him a few necessary instructions, and he then sent him to call the suspected man from the kitchen. Henley came slouching into the library a moment later, with Ginger trailing at his heels. He had a more lowering look in his shifty eyes. He had become impatient and suspicious during his long wait. He did not fancy his having been excluded from the conference of the detectives. It smacked of distrust of him, and his resentment was manifest in his swarthy face. Nick saw it, of course, and at once took steps to dispel it. “Pardon me, Henley, for keeping you waiting so long,” he apologized with a heartiness well calculated to be convincing. “I had no idea it would take more than a few minutes to examine these articles. Sorry to have kept you waiting.” “That’s all right, Mr. Carter,” growled Henley, with countenance lighting. “Time ain’t wuth much to me. I reckoned you’d want a good look at them.” “I have examined them carefully, Henley.” “What d’ye think about it?” “It looks like a bad mess, very bad,” Nick said, more gravely. “So it does,” Henley nodded. “There ain’t nothing to it but murder, that I can see.” “I’m inclined to agree with you,” Nick replied. “Sure thing, chief,” put in Patsy. “What else can you make of it? It’s dead lucky we met Mr. Henley. He sure has put us on the right track.” “And he can do still more to aid us,” supplemented Nick approvingly. “I suppose, Henley, you are perfectly willing to assist us. You will be well paid for your services. I guarantee that.”