As "Mr. Colton"--who was no other than Nick Carter--asked this question, his face looked as innocent as a babe's. He seemed surprised to hear that there had been a murder, though his companion, Lawrence Deever, had been saying so repeatedly during the last half hour. Deever now looked at Nick with eyes and mouth wide open. "Who has been murdered?" he repeated. "My brother has been murdered." "What makes you think so?" asked Nick, calmly. "What, indeed!" exclaimed Deever. "I have told you already." "No, you haven't. You have told me that your brother has been missing since night before last." "I told you more than that," cried Deever. "He is known to have quarreled with that man Jarvis." "Dr. Jarvis, of St. Agnes' Hospital?" "Of course. And I have proved--" "You have proved nothing," said Nick. "Let me repeat your statements: "Your brother Patrick worked for Dr. Jarvis, or under his direction, in the garden of St. Agnes' Hospital. The doctor frequently remonstrated with Patrick for drinking too much whisky, and--" "Remonstrated!" exclaimed Deever. "That's hardly the word for it. He abused the lad. He struck him half a dozen times during the last week." "With the flat of his hand," said Nick, smiling. "That is hardly the foundation for a charge of murder." "It shows that Jarvis is a violent man," said Deever, "and everybody knows that he is." "He has a bad temper, I will admit." "He's a dangerous old crank." "Well, to continue your statement of the case, late on Monday afternoon they were heard quarreling in the garden. They were seen there about half-past six o'clock. "A little after half-past seven the doctor was seen coming toward the hospital. He was greatly excited. He passed Martin Burns, who drives the hospital ambulance. "Martin went into the garden and failed to find Patrick. Nobody can tell what became of your brother or how he got out of the garden." "Yes; that's the point," Deever cried. "How did he get out?" "He may have climbed over the wall." "You've forgotten that his coat, with a little money in the pocket, was found hanging on the limb of a tree." "No, I did not forget that." "Well, why did he leave it?" "I don't pretend to know." "And what has become of him?" "There, again, I shall have to find out the facts before I answer." "I tell you he was murdered." "Now," said Nick, smiling again, "I shall have to turn your own question against yourself: If he was murdered, what's become of him?" "You mean where's his body?" "Exactly." "But do you mean to tell me," cried Deever, indignantly, "that if this man has hidden my brother's body so that nobody can find it he will escape punishment for his crime?" "Nothing of the sort," Nick replied. "I only wish to curb your impatience." "I'm not more impatient than any man in my situation ought to be. I simply demand justice." "Or, in other words--" "I want you to arrest Dr. Jarvis." "I can't do it." "Why not?"