A message from Clayton, addressed to Nick, and received in his library, called the detective to the Hotel Westgate. It contained only half a dozen words: “Come quickly. The bomb has burst.” CHAPTER II. AN AMAZING ROBBERY. Nick Carter responded immediately to Clayton’s urgent message. It was half past eleven when he entered the magnificent new Westgate, and almost the first person he saw in the spacious and elaborately designed rotunda and main office was one of the house detectives, Nat Webber, with whom he was well acquainted. Webber saw him entering and hurried to meet him. “I am looking for Mr. Clayton,” said Nick. “Where will I find him?” “He is with Mademoiselle Falloni, in her suite on the fourth floor,” said Webber, with his face reflecting no end of conflicting sentiments. “She’s up in the air a mile. So is Madame Escobar, who has the adjoining suite. Clayton has it all over both of them, however, for he’s in the air out of sight. It’s my opinion, Carter, that he has suddenly gone daffy, as mad as a March hare, or any old jack rabbit. There can be nothing else to it.” “What do you mean?” Nick demanded. “What has occurred here?” “I’ll tell you what I know,” said Webber. “If you can tell me what it means, Nick, you’ll be going some. About half past ten--stop a bit. Come here and let me show you. Do you see that door?” He drew Nick toward the office inclosure while speaking and pointed to a door leading out of it to the right. “Yes, certainly,” said Nick. “That’s the door to Clayton’s private office,” said Webber. “There is an opposite door which opens into a corridor leading to one of the stairways, the ladies’ elevator, and the main dining room.” “Well?” “At half past ten,” Webber resumed; “Clayton was seen to leave the office inclosure and enter his private office. He closed the door, as he habitually does, denoting that he does not wish to be intruded upon. The clerks never interrupt him at such times except on very important business. Those are his instructions.” “Well?” Nick repeated. “About five minutes later Clayton came from the corridor and spoke to the head clerk, Robert Vernon, over the counter, directing the clerk to hand Mademoiselle Falloni’s jewel casket from the vault, remarking that she wanted them in her suite and that he would take the casket up to her.” “Is that so?” Nick muttered, brows knitting. There was no need for Webber to tell him of the tremendous value of Mademoiselle Falloni’s wonderful jewels. The world-famous prima donna, then singing _Cleopatra_ with the International Grand Opera Company, had created a sensation and broken all records with her dazzling display of gems and jewels in her portrayal of Egypt’s ill-starred queen.