The morning came, and no Chick. Noon arrived, and still Chick had not made his appearance. During the forenoon Patsy had been on a hunt for the missing detective, and Nick had made a search on his own account, beginning with Craven's house. There he learned, somewhat to his alarm, that Mrs. Mannion had been away since the preceding afternoon. Her father showed anxiety, though it was his opinion that his daughter had gone to join her husband, of whose hiding-place she must be cognizant. At noon Patsy reported the presence of two boats on the Uniontown side of the Anacosta, and the tracks of a man and a woman on the shore and bank. He had followed the tracks until they were lost in the grass. In the afternoon Nick and Patsy made an attempt to pursue the clue which Patsy had discovered. The grounds of the deserted house attracted the great detective's attention, and he was proceeding in the direction of the well, when he came face to face with Nellie Mannion. "Are you Nick Carter?" she asked eagerly. Under other circumstances, the identity might have been denied. Nick now saw fit to give an affirmative answer. "Then you will find your friend a few paces beyond." Turning, she walked to the mouth of the well. Beside it lay Chick, with a broken leg, and a face covered with blood. "He's not dead; he's not badly hurt," explained the woman quickly. "His skull is not injured. Bruises and cuts have caused the blood." "She's right, all right," spoke Chick faintly; "but I'll feel better if some one will wash my face and put my leg straight." The great detective bent over his disabled and suffering assistant, pressed his hand affectionately, and breathed consoling words into his ear. Then he lifted the body in his strong arms and started for the river. "Patsy," he said, "try to induce Mrs. Mannion to accompany us." "I will go without compulsion," she said meekly. "I have done all the evil that I intend to do." Nick frowned. Perhaps she had done all that was necessary. In crossing the river Nick and Chick used the batteau. Patsy and Mrs. Mannion took the punt. Chick was taken to Craven's house, and a surgeon was telephoned for. An hour after the surgeon's arrival Chick was resting quietly, with his limb set and the wounds on his face and head washed and dressed. "He will be all right in a few weeks," said the surgeon. "Nursing is all he requires." In the evening Nellie Mannion, composed and quiet, sat before Nick Carter as a person might sit before a prosecuting attorney. "I have nothing to conceal," she said, "except the place where my husband is hidden. You will never find it, and you will never see him again." Her tone was so positive that Nick felt a cold chill run down his spine; but he quickly recovered his spirits, and met her look with a smile of disbelief.