“I then was directed to follow the road for a quarter mile, when I would reach a trolley line into town,” Clayton said, in conclusion. “The four men then rode rapidly away, and one hour later I arrived at the Westgate, much to the relief of Miss Langham and my chauffeur, who were on the verge of reporting my abduction to the police. That’s the whole story, Nick. Now, as Chick asked, what do you make of it?” Nick laid aside his napkin. The dinner had been progressing during Clayton’s recital, and coffee and cigars were in order. “Well, I hardly know what to say,” Nick replied. “Have you notified the police, or taken any steps to identify your abductors?” “I have not,” said Clayton. “They told me that any efforts along that line would be futile. I noticed the number on their touring car, but upon looking it up I found no such number. They had a doctored number plate.” “Obviously, Clayton, they took every precaution, not only to hide their identity, but also to prevent you from identifying the house in which you were confined, in event of subsequent suspicions,” said Nick. “That they apprehended subsequent suspicion, moreover, shows plainly that they were paving the way for the execution of some later design.” “That does seem reasonable. I have not thought of that.” “Has anything since occurred that might have a bearing on the matter?” “I know of nothing, Nick.” “Everything in the hotel is all right, so far as you know?” “Yes, indeed. Things could not be better.” “I asked only because your abductors wanted to detain you from the hotel for a short time, or so one of them said.” “Very true. But there is nothing wrong here. I am sure of that.” “You have told me, then, all that you know about the affair, and you are without any suspicion concerning it?” “Exactly. I have told you all, Nick, and am completely in the dark,” Clayton earnestly declared. Nick knocked the ashes from his cigar and prepared to rise from the table. “I have only this to say,” he replied, more impressively: “Be on your guard. Men never go to so much trouble, nor take such chances, Clayton, unless they have some definite and probably felonious design in view.” “That’s true, Nick,” Chick put in. “There certainly is something in the wind,” Nick added. “It is impossible to predict what it is, or when it will occur, but it is safe to say it relates to something with which you are identified. Otherwise, Clayton, you would never have met with such an experience. I can only warn you to be vigilant and constantly on your guard. A bomb may burst when it is least expected.” “That’s right, too,” Chick declared, as they arose from the table. “No man, Nick, could say more.” Mr. Chester Clayton thanked the detective for his advice and promised to be governed by it. Precisely one week later, at eleven o’clock in the morning, Nick Carter’s prediction was fulfilled.