“You thought you were the real thing, didn’t you, Carter?” he demanded. “Get a move on and I’ll show you what you’re up against and where you stand.” “I can guess.” “Into the shack, and no funny business, mind you, or you’ll hear something drop, if you live until you hit the floor. Lead the way, Brigham. Where’s his jags?” “In the dining room, Jim.” “Head that way. Plug along, Carter, where he leads.” Nick felt the prod of the ruffian’s gun in the small of his back, but he had no intention of offering any objection. He followed Brigham into the house, a stocky, ill-favored fellow with fiery-red hair, and in another moment he heard the door closed and locked behind him. The hall was dim when the sunlight was thus excluded. It ran straight through the spacious old colonial house to the front door. A broad, but angular stairway led up to the second floor. There was a damp and musty smell in the long-closed dwelling, and the rooms on each side of the broad hall looked dusty, gloomy, and deserted. The exception, in the last respect, was the large dining room into which the detective was conducted by the three crooks. That room contained only one occupant, however; the man in search of whom Chick Carter had left the Gordon residence more than an hour before--Mr. Edgar Hereford Dayton. He was seated in one of the leather upholstered chairs, pushed back from the polished table. He did not appear disturbed by what had occurred or by the advent of the detective upon the scene, though he gazed at Nick curiously when he entered, flecking the ashes from the end of a cigarette. His overcoat and hat were lying on a chair near the wall, and near it stood a closed leather suit case. Nick Carter identified him instantly as Dayton--and somewhat more than that when he spoke. Henley was the first to open fire, however, addressing Dayton and saying gruffly, the moment he entered: “You’d better clean out that town office, old sport, or fight shy from it now on. I reckon this dick has sent his right bower to keep an eye on it. Leastwise, I don’t see where else he would have sent him in such a rush.” Nick suppressed a smile. It amused him to find that Henley was a bit more discerning than he had thought him. Dayton appeared unmoved by Henley’s announcement and advice. He glanced at the suit case mentioned, then responded with a curious mingling of coolness and assurance that Nick was quick to remember: “He is welcome, Henley, to inspect that office. It already is cleaned out of all that would interest him. Suppose, instead of giving me needless advice, you tell me just what this meddlesome fellow is after, and what he has been doing.” “By Jove, I’m not mistaken,” was the thought then in Nick’s mind. “This rascal has even more strings to his bow than I suspected.” “That’s quickly told----” Henley began to reply.